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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 | aemond targaryen x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | these were the only times he showed you any affection— when others were watching. when his reputation was at stake. but as eyes from around the room fell on you as you danced, you swallowed down a lump in your throat as you wondered if they could see it all: the truth, that is. separate bedrooms, sparse conversations, silent meals. {aka, an arranged marriage with aemond that’s not as loveless as it seems, once he’s forced to admit how he really feels…}

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 9.4k (WHOOPS)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (virginity loss with some pain due to aemond being… very gifted, breeding kink ft. breeding press, emotional sex, the slightest dubcon if you squint but trust me it's wanted), arranged marriage, angst, the love isn’t unrequited they’re just idiots, innocent reader, slight infidelity (reader has essentially an emotional affair with a stark!oc), touch starved reader and also touch starved aemond but at the same time cocky aemond lol, reader is insanely whipped for aemond (aka self-insert lmao jk but really tho), slight housewife kink? but really just very old school/traditional views of marriage, reader is implied to be some kind of royal but no mentions of her house or origins or appearance

You knew Aemond hated these sorts of things, but you loved them. You loved that he had to treat you like a wife for the evening— putting his hand on your shoulder or waist, smiling at you, talking about you to other guests…

Maybe that was the same reason that he hated them. You really couldn't tell; but on nights like this, you just basked in the fantasy, in the joy of putting on this show for the others so they wouldn't know how loveless and empty your marriage really was.

The banquet was, all things considered, rather uneventful. You didn't make much conversation, opting to stay firmly planted at your husband's side until he invited you to dance. He disliked dancing, too, but he was decent at it; you couldn't stop smiling when he took your hand so gently, guiding you to the centre of the room. His gracefulness and stoic nature reminded you of how you thought of him when you met him for the first time.

You remembered returning home after your first visit, knowing the courtship would be brief for a political marriage and that your next visit would probably be permanent. You spent the night telling everything to your friends, giddy with romantic glee. What's he like? they asked. They say the one-eyed prince is strange— but maybe they all are…

You clutched your hands to your chest as you answered: he's shy, you said, and reserved— mysterious! But I know he has a kind heart, if only he'll let me near to it. He took my hand and kissed it… just the way he looked at me as he did made my heart jump! He's handsome, I think, if in a strange way— he doesn't look anything like the men here. But I like that…

And they all swooned, going on about how lucky you were, fantasising with you about how romantic it would be when he showed you his true nature and fawned over you as his new wife.

For a dragon, for a man made in fire, he was so cold— frozen solid, right down to his heart.

These were the only times he showed you any affection— when others were watching. When his reputation was at stake. But as eyes fell on you as you danced, you swallowed down a lump in your throat as you wondered if they could see it all: the truth, that is. Separate bedrooms, sparse conversations, silent meals (when you ate together at all, which became rarer over time).

Nearly eight months into marriage, with no pregnancy, you knew there were rumours already about why no children were on the way. The kindest of them spoke that Aemond didn't desire children and had you on a strict regimen of preventative elixirs and teas; the harshest alleged that you couldn't satisfy him, couldn't interest him, or couldn't bear for him at all.

Worst of all, you weren't sure which of those were true yourself. He never told you if he wanted children, or if he had a lover already, or if he was like his brother— spending night after night in whorehouses.

You didn't know him at all, really, and it made your eyes sting at the dance came to an end. He let go of your hand to clap for the end of the song like the other dancers, and you knew it could be weeks before he touched you again. You bowed your head and hoped he wouldn't see your eyes getting watery.

When you looked up again, Aemond's attention was elsewhere as a Lord visiting from far away approached him to make conversation; but another set of eyes were upon you, those of the Lord Stark seated across the hall. His stare was dark, but warm, and you glanced away quickly.

"Excuse me," you offered quietly to your husband and his conversation partner, who nodded at you to dismiss you before you left. Making your way to the doors, you saw Stark standing from his chair in the corner of your eye as you passed.

Leaving the party, you walked far enough that you suspected no one else would come by— no one else that wasn't looking for you, that is. And only one man would come looking for you…

He did, as you suspected; you waited under a sconce until you heard footsteps behind you. You turned to face him, and part of you imagined, still, that it would be your husband standing there. Why did you leave, dear wife? Wouldn't you like to dance with me again?

He probably didn't even know you were gone. Instead, you stared at the man standing before you. "Lord Stark," you greeted with a polite curtsy.

"You may desist the pleasantries," he smirked, full lips surrounded by dark brown stubble on his face, approaching you with a gentle touch to your arm. "We are alone, my lady."

Sighing, you watched his fingers pet the sleeve of your dress. What would it be like if Aemond touched your arm, with his delicate touch and slender hands? "That we are," you agreed softly.

"I've waited quite some time to see you again," Philip Stark said thoughtfully, and you smiled up at him shyly, "and I'm afraid you are even more beautiful than I remembered."

"And you are even more flirtatious than I remembered," you returned, making him laugh lightly.

"Quick-witted as always, my lady," he praised, "but it is not flattery— you know I truly adore you, don't you? These nights are all I have to look forward to… though it does wound me to see you with him. Especially now that I know how cruel he really is."

Yes, when you first encountered Philip in one of these empty hallways, you confessed more of the truth to him than you'd ever told anyone. As embarrassing as it was, he never judged or shamed you; in fact, he apparently fell madly in love with you after that one conversation. And now here he was, jealous that Aemond married you first, making you feel terrible for the way you entertained the interest of another man.

"I wanted to ask you for a dance," Philip admitted. "Would you have accepted?"

"Of course," you beamed.

"Then I'll ask now," he decided, extending his hand to you as your eyes widened.

"But there's no music!" you protested.

"Can’t you hear it?” he grinned, making you knit your brows and try to listen more carefully. With the doors to the main hall shut, you couldn’t hear anything. “That’s what it’s like to be in love— you hear music when others don’t.”

As sweet as it was for Philip to imply he was in love with you, you had to laugh. “I think that’s what it’s like to be insane!” you replied.

“The two are actually quite similar,” he winked as you took your hand and pulled you closer, squaring up to dance with you.

For a few moments, it was just that— dancing in the hallway with Philip to silent music. It was fun, romantic even, and you laughed like you hadn’t in weeks. And though you couldn’t quite call it a surprise, with the way he was looking at you, you felt a strange sense of disappointment when he kissed you.

Disappointment because all you could think about as he kissed you was how different it felt from what you thought kissing Aemond would be like.

You'd put a lot of thought into it, actually, since you first met him. Aemond’s lips seemed soft, and the few times you'd seen the tip of his tongue slip out to wet them as he was immersed in thought, you thought of him tasting your lips. His touch was delicate and lithe, those thin fingers might tilt your head back so you would look up at him, or lightly tickle the small of your back. He would be so careful with you, tender and patient as he was in all things, he would savour every moment that your body was pressed to his…

Philip was exactly the opposite in every way. His stubble scratched against your face, reminding you what you were doing and who you were doing it with. His kiss was aggressive and hungry, his tongue prying into your mouth as he hummed in delight and pulled you closer by your hips.

It took all your strength, physical and metaphysical, to push him away. "I can't… my husband—" you began.

"You told me yourself that he ignores you," he sighed, tightening his grip on you to keep you close. "Didn't you say that you thought he was having an affair of his own?"

"W-well, I'm not sure— I just imagine he must be, since he's never… since we never…"

He growled slightly, leaning in to kiss your neck as you shivered. "I still can't believe it," he mumbled. "That the prince has a beautiful wife all to himself and never once bed you. What a waste that is— you deserve to be pleasured, my love…"

You wanted so much to give into it, to let him take you now and finally know what you'd been waiting so long for. You wanted it more than anything— to be loved, desired, cherished. But you still gasped and pushed him away again when he started to grab at your dress. "I saved my purity for my husband," you reminded him with a frown.

"And you still have it!" he snapped. "Isn't it time to give it to someone who wants it?"

You'd told him yourself that your husband didn't care for you, and yet it stung horribly to hear Lord Stark say it so plainly. You dropped your head and bit your shaking lip, sniffling as he awkwardly tried to recant what he'd said.

"I-I've offended you— my apologies— but it is him that should feel guilty, not you," Philip insisted. "He's mad to treat you in such a way… he should desire you, I can't imagine why he doesn't. But he doesn't, that much we can both be certain of. And I do— more than anything, I desire you. I meant all that I said in my letter— and more. I have dreamt of you every night since we first met, since you let me kiss your hand…"

The declaration of love was beautiful, and tender, but it was soured— for it all came from the wrong man. It would be easier to run away with the Lord Stark and be his wife instead, let him give you all the things he promised. But it was not duty that kept you bound to Aemond… it was devotion; real, pure devotion.

You interrupted the Lord's imploring speech by resting your hand tenderly on his cheek. He sighed, shutting his eyes and savouring your touch. "My lady," he whispered reverently.

"I am truly sorry, my Lord," you breathed. "You are handsome, and gentle— and any lady should be so lucky to have your heart, for it is truly kind and just. But—"

"But you can only love him," Stark finished with a sneer, jerking away from you dejectedly.

"I wish I didn't," you admitted with a whimper as you started to cry. "I wish I was the sort of woman who could ignore my marriage and abandon my husband and just love you, but—"

"Say no more," he interrupted firmly. "I see now that you never felt for me as you said you did. You only liked that I gave you the attention your husband does not."

Well, that was sort of true, but it still hurt.

"No wonder he hates you— he knows how wicked you are!"

You reached out for the man but he had already turned to leave you; you wanted to plead for just one more embrace from him, so it would be longer before you forgot how it felt to be held. But you, apparently, had a single shred of dignity left… or maybe it was just that you were crying too hard to speak.

Crumpling to the floor, you leaned against the stone wall, hearing the sounds of the party grow louder for a moment as the doors to the banquet hall opened again. The sounds of merriment and joy felt distant, not just because they were literally far away— you had so few joys left already, and one of them had just tossed you aside with impatience and disgust.

When the evening concluded and you were alone in your bed across the castle, you dreamt that Aemond found one of Philip's letters to you; that he read it and confronted you, admitting he was livid to imagine another man stealing you away. In your dream, Aemond's anger revealed his true lust for you, and he asserted his claim over his wife by violently taking you right there in your bed, all the while swearing to never even let anyone else look at you again.

It may have sounded like a nightmare to anyone else, but you would accept any interest from Aemond by now— you wouldn't struggle or resist him, too good of a wife to ever deny your husband. But that was hardly something you had to worry about: you'd never have to deny him, because he'd never want you. Realising this for the hundredth time hurt just as much as the first; you wept into your pillow for the rest of the night.

"What is it that you hate so much about me?" you asked, voice wavering even though you'd imagined being so tough when you finally confronted him.

You hadn't woken up that day planning to ask him that. You'd woken up that day melancholy as you knew it was your eight month wedding anniversary— and you knew that Aemond didn't care. He didn't join you for breakfast, and you thought about taking your meal to the terrace to look out at the garden while you ate, but then you thought you'd better just wait for him at the table in case he came late and gave you a kiss on the head as he passed by to his seat.

Of course, he did not. You didn't see him before lunch, either— or at lunch! That was when your heartbreak shifted into anger. If he wanted to be aloof, fine. If he wanted to be in a purely political marriage without even consummating it, that was his right. And if he didn't think children were necessary, being the second son and therefore not needing an heir, even though you longed to be less alone and have someone to care for here in this draughty old castle— you could live with all that.

But if he couldn't even think to say hello to his wife, either ignorant or uncaring that the twentieth of every month was another month gone by since the wedding, then he was worse than you realised. Up until now he’d avoided you, sure, but he wasn’t… mean, except for avoiding you, which was mean in itself. It made you think of what Philip said a few weeks ago— no wonder he hates you.

So, that was what compelled you to find Aemond in his chambers, swinging the doors open and blurting out your question.

He sighed, seeming annoyed, as he shut his book and looked at you. Even after seeing firsthand how little he cares about you, part of you imagined he'd be offended when you asked that. Hate you? Darling, of course not! You're my wife, aren't you?

But no, he only contemplated you with an unsurprised frustration as you stood there, shaking hands clenched into fists. You spoke again when he still said nothing. "I'd just like you to tell me, Aemond. Tell me why you despise me so much."

He smiled— fucking smiled— as he tilted his head down and shook it. "Haven't I done enough for you? This is the thanks I get, when I try so hard to be kind to you?"

You choked on your gasp, tears falling down your face already even though you wanted more than anything not to let him see you weep. "Is this what it looks like when you try? I'd hate to see what happens when you just give in and show me how you really feel."

He scoffed. "You would hate it," he agreed.

"You're so cruel…" you whispered, choking on a sob. "How do you do that, Aemond? How are you so horrible to me, without a second thought?"

That seemed to anger him properly, and he finally stood up as rage heated his face. "How dare you come to my chambers and question me? After all I've done for you—!"

"All you've done?" you repeated incredulously. "Ignored and belittled me? Treated me like a stranger, secluded me to another bedroom… are these your mercies?"

He seemed confused— an emotion you weren't used to seeing on him. "Yes!" he answered, irritated. "What more could you want? I can't exactly have you living on another continent, can I?"

You blinked quickly, shaking your head at him. "I— I don't understand…"

"I grant you all that, because I know this marriage was not your choice," he explained, like it was obvious. "It wasn't mine either— we can at least be civil, and keep up appearances, for your honour and my own."

"Honour? Aemond, the court believes I am barren! I haven't the heart to tell them that you're disgusted by me!"

He stepped closer to you, the short distance making your heart race. "Disgusted? You may think me a monster, but I am only a man— even I know how beautiful you are."

Your throat caught. He said it like you should know— but it was news to you, and it made your heart skip. "If… if you think me beautiful, why— why did you never lay with me? Even on our wedding night?" you asked, feeling your face warm to discuss something so crude.

"I'm not like my brother," he sneered. "I have no desire to force myself on you…"

His eye darted to the side briefly.

"W-well, no intention, at least."

"Force?" you repeated, confused as you shook your head. "Aemond, you're hardly making any sense…"

"I'm not making sense, am I? Who are you to question me? You act like a nice, obedient wife— you like to make them think of you that way, don't you? But I let you live as you did before, as much as I can. What more do you want, woman?!" he asked ragefully.

"I… want only for you to hold me," you admitted, voice breaking as you cried in earnest. You felt like a child when he looked at you like this, even more so as you admitted your foolish desires. "I want my husband to love me— I want him to touch and kiss me, and tell me that he can't live without me. I want, even just for one day, to feel worthy of your love— fuck, just your attention! Just your approval!"

He blinked at you, softening, and you almost jumped when his hand reached up to tenderly stroke the back of your arm. "My wife…" he whispered, and your lips fell slack with a sigh.

He leaned in a bit closer then, reaching up to wipe a tear from the height of your cheek with his thumb. In all the months you'd been married, in the weeks you courted, he'd never touched you so sweetly.

"I… I didn't want to hurt you," he promised, "or scare you. I thought you—"

He lowered his voice again, shutting his eye, and you leaned in closer.

"I knew you couldn't love me," he whispered. "You're so sweet and lovely— I'm scarred. And you played the part well, but… I've seen that look before, when a lady is trying to be polite but is upset by the sight of me. I understand."

You reached up to hold his face, biting your shaking lip. “Aemond… I never— you’re beautiful.”

He turned away shyly, cheeks starting to tint in a way that only added to the beauty he was about to deny. “I know you want to be a good wife, but your flattery is inconceivable.”

“I always thought you were handsome, my prince,” you promised, forcing him to look at you so he could see the earnestness in your eyes. “And I don’t just want to be a good wife— I want to be your wife.”

"You always had my attention," he informed you. "And you never lost my approval."

Overcome with joy, you threw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Though he seemed a bit stunned by your forwardness at first, he returned your hug; you could've sobbed when he embraced you. It was all you'd ever wanted, and it was so simple: just the touch of your husband— just the warmth and strength of him, wrapped around you.

Squeezing your shoulders gently, he sighed beside your ear. “You don’t need to be so excited,” he mumbled.

“Of course I’m excited,” you beamed, holding him even tighter. “I thought you— do you really care for me?”

“Yes,” he assured, and you pulled back to look at his face, just in case he was obviously lying or something. But he seemed genuine— actually, he seemed surprised that you didn’t believe him already.

"I won't believe you until you kiss me," you decided. Smiling, he leaned closer and took one more long look at your face before pressing his lips to yours.

It was sort of like how you'd imagined that it would be, at first. But in a moment, it was better than you could've ever thought.

It was needy. You loved it; your husband needed you. His kiss was still delicate and precise, yes, but filled with heavy sighs and hesitant attempts to pull you closer and press his body to yours. It was teeming with all that suppressed hunger, like he was fighting every instinct so he wouldn't overwhelm you. If only he knew he could do whatever he liked to you; if only you could make him let go and show his true self.

“I care for you,” he whispered into the kiss, almost so quiet you didn’t hear it… but you did, and you had to cling to his shoulders with your knees going weak. He pulled away to speak to you more clearly, as much as you hated being away from that kiss again. “I care for you too much to subject you to my presence.”

“Do you care for me too much to consummate our marriage?” you asked, catching the way his eye widened slightly while his grip at your waist tightened.

“Avoiding you was easier than resisting you,” he explained quickly. “It’s… difficult, even now, holding you like this, and not—”

“I want you to,” you admitted, nearly whining as you clutched at his shirt to pull him closer. “Since our wedding night— well, even before then, I wanted—”

"Don't," he pleaded, voice thin as he looked away. "I… I won't be able to hold myself back…"

"Take me, husband," you begged. "I— I waited for you all my life. I need to feel you, to please you—"

He snarled a bit as he shut you up with a bruising kiss, holding your back tightly.

You hummed into it, feeling heat flood your face (and between your legs) as he kissed you so… shamelessly. Your grip on him loosened, only because all of you went a little limp from the way his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you pressed your hands flat against the leather in hopes you could feel the warmth of his chest through it. Unfortunately, you couldn’t, so instead you found your hand slipping between two of the fasteners of his tunic, fingers brushing against the bare skin underneath. He pulled away from your lips, but you couldn’t seem to find the strength to pull your hand from his chest— his warm, porcelain skin—

"Your eagerness is unladylike," Aemond noticed with a pleased smirk.

"I-I am sorry, but I can't help it," you whimpered. "I've longed for you— I've dreamt of you—"

"Shh, I know," he smiled softly, petting your hair as you leaned into the gentle touch. "I quite like this desperation on you, anyways. Be careful not to let me enjoy it too much, or I'll make you wait another eight months."

"No, please," you breathed, "you could hold me every day and I'd be just as eager, my prince."

He sighed just by your ear, even something that simple making you shiver. "I'll do more than that— I'll never let you go. I'll hold you for the rest of our lives. Then will you be satisfied?"

Crying softly, you nodded and hid your face against his shoulder, sighing at the relief being close to him brought you.

He reached up slowly to help you unfasten the clothing that covered his upper body; watching him undress was just divine, in your opinion— every nimble motion of his fingers exposed a longer sliver of his torso until he shirked the tunic away from his shoulders and revealed himself to you. Biting your lip, you graced your fingers over his chest, admiring how strong he was and how delicate his ivory skin felt; if it weren’t for how shockingly warm he was to the touch, you’d believe he really was porcelain.

“Do you wish to see me too, husband?” you asked shyly, fishing for a little eagerness from him as well. He hummed as he leaned in to kiss your neck, reaching behind your back to unlace your gown as you held onto his arms.

“I apologise for how many breakfasts I missed,” he replied, not seeming to be a related statement at all until he went on. “Seeing you in your dressing gown was becoming too much to bear… all I could do was imagine how you must look without anything to cover you.”

You smiled proudly, though you couldn’t for very long when his tongue teasing along your pulse made you gasp shakily. “U-uncover me then," you pleaded, as if he wasn't already shedding you of the layers of your dress, down to the thin linen chemise underneath. You were told from an early age that your body was meant for your husband's eyes only, and aside from the occasional lady's maid who helped you dress, you'd covered yourself in modest wear in order to preserve your own dignity and keep your promise to your future husband. Maybe some would protest to such a stricture, but it seemed sort of romantic to you. And now that you were finally here, with Aemond's fingers delicately shedding you of your last layer of clothing, it was more intimidating than you expected— but in a good way, mostly. Really you were just scared that he wouldn't like what he saw; even if he said he was affected by the sight of you in your nightgown, he knew nothing of what laid beneath.

Taking a shaky breath, you held your arms out just enough for him to slide the thin fabric down, and the garment pooled on the floor at your feet.

For a moment, you couldn't find the courage to look up at Aemond, just blinking down at the ground beneath you. But soon, when he said nothing still, you worriedly glanced up to examine the expression on his face.

Before then, you wouldn't have known how to describe what lust looked like. Well, you still couldn't describe it, but you knew it when you saw it. And this? That darkness in those icy eyes, that tightness in his jaw and the subtle smirk on his lips? That was it.

You shivered as he ran his hands over you, a pleasant sort of chill that made you clench inside. You opened your mouth, about to ask him if you were pleasing to him, but he spoke first.

"Lay on the bed, wife."

You were, obviously, already very obedient. But you may have never been as instantaneous in your obliging as that moment. You were on your back on Aemond's bed in an instant, and he was atop you just a second later, kissing you again and breathing in deeply as his bare chest pressed to yours.

His hands returned to exploring you as his kiss became more and more overpowering; he was so warm, almost hot, pressed against you and it was simply the most perfect feeling. You found your legs spreading naturally without much thought put into it, and in the same way, his hand just seemed to move down between them of its own accord, gently rubbing over your mound as you whimpered from the feeling.

"Are you truly untouched?" he whispered against your lips.

"Of course," you answered, "how could I not be? You never touched me…"

He hummed softly. "I longed to," he admitted, "I imagined it…"

He delicately parted your folds with two fingers, making you shudder as his touch carefully discovered every detail of you. "I-is it like you imagined?" you wondered.

"Even more lovely," he replied. "You're so warm here, my love— are you warmer inside?"

You gasped loudly as he slid those fingers inside you. "Shh," he soothed. "It's only to prepare you."

Only to prepare? I feel as if I'm being torn apart already! you thought.

"Soon you'll be ready to take me inside you," he whispered. That was plenty of motivation to get through the pain, and he hummed contentedly as you pulsed inside, more of your arousal leaking out and threatening to leave a puddle on his bed.

"Will… will you keep your trousers on?" you wondered, as you looked down at where the pale skin stopped and the black leather began.

He seemed amused. "I know you're not naïve enough to think we can consummate this marriage with my trousers on."

"N-no! I mean—" you choked. "I meant that… I'm naked, and you haven't taken them off yet."

He raised an eyebrow, curling his fingers inside you and watching your face twist. "Are you that curious, my darling?" he mocked, leaning down to speak closely beside your ear. "Would you like to see my cock, is that it?"

Well, it seemed that the time for shame was well past… so, you bit your lip and nodded slightly, feeling his kiss the side of your face quickly.

"Soon," he promised. "It's easier to keep my patience this way."

Patience? After this long, his concern is patience?

Of course, you couldn't quite understand yet what Aemond was truly concerned with— but you would soon enough.

As much as it had stung to be entered by something for the first time, you were whining in disappointment when he pulled those fingers out of you— until he brought them to his lips and stared forward at you darkly while he sucked your flavour from them.

When he had licked every drop from his skin, he smiled at you and put those wet fingers by your hole again— wiggling and twisting them to fit three inside as your back arched.

"It's too much," you warned, grabbing his wrist. "Three is too many!"

"You'll need to take much more than three fingers, my darling," he chuckled. His free hand grabbed yours and guided it to his erection, firm and hot even though the leather, helping you rub him as he sighed. Your eyes went wide as you felt it, and he smirked at you. "Do you see now? You'll need to be prepared."

"Oh— my husband, you— are you sure it will fit?"

"Yes."

It wasn't as convincing as you'd hoped it would be. It felt so thick, and you were afraid your sense of touch was deceiving you with the length of it! Sure, you had no true point of reference having never even seen a man naked before, but you understand the mechanics of all this to find a sense of fear bubbling up in your gut. Would it hurt you? Would it break you?

And why did that idea, as terrifying as it should be, excite you a little bit?

Pulling him down into another kiss, you found yourself weaving your fingers into his hair, and when he pushed his fingers deeper into you again you couldn’t help but tug on the silver-y strands unintentionally. You started to apologise, before the little wince he let out turned into a low groan that made your walls bear down on his fingers yet again. And that made him sigh as he leaned down to kiss your neck, even biting on you just hard enough to make a whine escape from your throat.

“I should give you more time,” he admitted, “prepare you further, but… my patience is wearing thin, dear wife.”

“You don’t need patience with me, husband,” you assured, surprised by your own voice’s wavering as he kept filling you with his long fingers. “Just… say that you love me.”

He smirked a little, and the pridefulness in his face made you feel sort of foolish— but you sort of liked it. “I don’t know you enough to say that,” he replied.

Well, that wasn’t exactly your fault, was it? And he had three fingers to the knuckles inside you, he certainly knew you better than anyone else! “You don’t have to mean it,” you mumbled, “just say it…”

His free hand, attached to the elbow that he balanced himself on beside your head, lightly pet the line of your jaw as you blinked up at him. “Say that you love me first,” he decided.

“I love you,” you replied instantly, “of course— I love you more than anything.”

Smiling wider, he closed the space between you and kissed you softly. Only when your eyes fell shut did he answer in a whisper below his breath, “and I love you as well.” It seemed like it might be too much for him to say it with his eyes open.

He took his hand away from you and reached down; excitement jumped through you like a shock when you realised he was removing the rest of his clothes. It made the kiss suddenly much more… thrilling, less precise and more desperate as you grabbed onto his shoulders and felt his bare body lay fully on top of yours.

His hands ran up the back of your legs, holding them open wide for him, and his cock pressed against your waiting cunt; it was warm, that was the only word you could think of for it, and you moaned into his mouth as he just barely rocked his hips to slide himself over your slick folds.

Right as he held himself tightly, hissing softly between his teeth, and guided his thick and leaking tip to your opening, a second wind of hesitance startled you.

"Wait!" you blurted out, pushing him away just slightly by his shoulder. You could tell by the fear in his eye that he thought you were about to renege on the whole thing, admit that he was right from the start and you were too afraid of him to go through with any consummation.

Instead, you reached up to the brown leather patch on his eye, gently caressing it.

"Let me see my husband," you pleaded. "I know you don't like to show me— but I want to see you as you are."

You'd only seen him without the covering for a brief moment, on accident; a few weeks into the marriage you entered his chambers without permission, finding him without his shirt or patch, and he covered his face quickly to scold you for your rudeness. You were much too flushed by the sight of his bare chest— that toned, pale torso with scars of the softest pink in a few places— to mind his sapphire eye much or his frustrated rant. He could yell at you all he wanted if he did so in any state of undress! You thought he had the most beautiful body— seeing more of it today only proved your suspicions correct— and as he took off his eyepatch now, you smiled as you finally saw your husband's face.

A moment later, your smile fell into a gasp and a cry as he pushed himself into you. Head falling back onto the down pillow, you whined through your teeth as his cock filled you, and you dug your nails into his shoulders with more strength than you thought you had. "I'm hurting you," he noticed. "I tried to prepare—"

But as he pulled back, you reached down and held onto his hip. "No!" you whimpered. "Don't… don't stop. The pain will fade, yes? I— I want this so much, Aemond…"

He sighed, leaning down to kiss away a stray tear from your temple. "I know— and you've waited long enough, haven't you? My poor wife… I never wanted you to be lonely. I only wanted to protect you."

"From what?"

"This."

He put his hand over your mouth and shoved the rest of his cock inside you, muffling your scream as he groaned in satisfaction. He was so deep, and it burned to be stretched for the first time; you sobbed but wrapped your legs around his waist and tried to keep him inside. Still, he started to move, and you shuddered and wept as the pain seemed to bloom from your cunt and crawl up your back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I can't— I can't stop now, and you feel so warm…"

He looked at your face, twisted in pain, and stared at the hand over your mouth with and heavy gaze.

"I don't want them to hear you. No one should hear my wife but me— in her pleasure or pain."

Even as you shivered from the way it hurt, your heart sang to hear him call you his wife, and to be possessive of you in some way.

"You feel so perfect," he grunted, starting to fuck into you faster already. "It won't always hurt like this— just a little longer, I know you can take it for me, can't you?"

You nodded against the pressure of his hand over your face, hoping he wouldn't mind the way you pierced your nails into his skin to try to cope with the pain— you’d feel terrible if you left any marks on such a beautiful form as his, but then again, wouldn’t it be sort of erotic? Little half-moons carved into his white skin as a memory in the flesh, a way to claim him in return as he claimed you?

Yes, actually, it would be wonderful— and so you held onto him tighter, and he certainly didn’t seem to mind.

Each time his hips collided with yours, your whole body rocked under him and his grip on the sheets beside your head tightened until they threatened to tear. His breaths were fast and sharp as he moved, a lovely flush on his cheeks and his eyes shut (the scarred one only as much as it could be) as he chased his own ecstasy. Even though it still stung for a few moments longer, you loved looking up through your teary eyes as watching him, feeling impossibly proud knowing you were pleasing your husband this way.

He knew something had changed when your grip on his shoulders relaxed and you exhaled a long sigh from your nose that tickled his hand over your mouth (which he took away to admire your face in this moment). "Is it beginning to feel better?" he asked.

"Yes," you whimpered. "Yes, yes, yes—"

He laughed softly. "I heard you the first time," he soothed, "but you may say it as much as you like. Say my name as well, love— it never sounded as nice as it does from your lips…"

"Aemond," you breathed.

It spurred him on even more, deeper thrusts making your back arch and moans jump from your throat quickly. "Such precious sounds you make," Aemond noticed proudly. "Have you never felt this way before?"

You shook your head, and a snarl of twisted pride ghosted over his face. "Never— it feels— oh!"

He had leaned down to capture one of your hardening nipples between his lips, gently flicking at it with the very tip of his tongue until you jolted under him. You hadn't even known of such a thing before, you didn't realise how sensitive you were there or how beautiful Aemond would look with his mouth latched onto your breast. He switched back and forth between them, smiling occasionally when your moans grew louder or you gasped out his name at the feeling. A long whine slipped out when he kissed his way up from your nipple to the curve of your neck, moving his hips harder and faster as his bent arms kept him balanced and caged you in. “Tell me again,” he demanded in a pant, “how much you like this.”

“It’s— you feel so—” you choked, really trying to answer him but losing focus each time he filled you to the brim and rubbed against that one place that made everything light up inside you. Your legs wrapped around his hips instinctively, and your toes curled, and you clung onto him as each thrust made your body— and mind— feel more and more beautifully helpless. “It’s so… deep…”

He purred a little.

“It feels so good,” you finally decided to answer, knowing it wasn’t the most descriptive but not sure how else to put it. “It feels amazing— you feel amazing… I don’t want it to ever end…”

His next sound was a hum of approval, and while it made you feel happy, you felt the urge to press for a more conclusive response.

“Does— does it feel— is it nice for you, too?” you panted out. For all those attempts to ask that question, it still came out sort of needy and pathetic, but he found that amusing and smiled against your skin as he kissed beside your ear.

“Nice isn’t the word,” he admitted. “There isn’t a word for how you feel, my darling. The closest I can think of is perfect.”

You were just hoping for a small compliment; you didn’t expect him to so flippantly say something that romantic, even poetic.

Just after you’d said you didn’t want it to end, he decided to stop and pull out of you. The emptiness was jarring and disappointing; reaching out for him as he sat up, he smiled and gave your waiting hand a squeeze. “Just a moment, my love.”

He sat up enough to lift your legs from around his hips, and hold them up as he pushed them against your upper body. Just when you wanted to warn him that you may not be as flexible as he expected, he slipped his cock inside you again— and when you’d remarked before about how deep he was, you had no idea how this would feel.

Your whole body tightened up and your face twisted in a gasp. “Is it too much for you?” he asked softly, the concern in his voice making your heart swell.

“No, please— keep going,” you insisted, though your back had to arch when he slid the rest of the way inside and you swore the head of his cock was going to go into your stomach or something. But it didn’t— it only stretched you to your absolute limits, a new sensation that wasn’t quite sharp enough to be pain but more powerful than you’d ever known pleasure to be. You whimpered, but braced yourself, ready to give him anything he needed.

"My sweet wife, so devoted," he groaned as he pushed his hips as hard as he could into you, holding you steady to force his cock just that last little bit deeper inside until your eyes rolled back. "You wanted so much to fulfil your marital duty— and look at you, taking it perfectly, even better than I imagined."

"You… you imagined this?"

Aemond laughed, heartily, at your question. "Only every night," he replied quickly, "with my hand around my cock, wanting to call for you but barely resisting each time."

You would've been ecstatic if your husband had called for you in the middle of the night to soothe his aching need; even if he sent you away right after he was finished and went back to ignoring you, it would've made you feel like less of a complete failure of a wife.

"I imagined more than this, though," he admitted. "I imagined kissing you and tasting you and hearing you say how dearly you love me…"

That explained why he’d asked you to say it before. You’d say it a thousand times if he asked— or, probably, even if he didn’t.

"I imagined you pregnant."

To say your heart skipped a beat was an understatement. Your heart skipped so many beats that you might have been technically dead for a couple seconds— except that you felt more alive than ever. There were a thousand things you’d like to say, but rendered totally speechless, all you could do was pant out his name weakly.

"We don't need to make any heirs," he reminded you. "But I could give you a child, if you want one."

Your heart had never been so filled before— finally, your husband's child, inside you: it could really happen. You'd longed to give him one (or many) since you met him and now… now you could finally bear him one. "Yes," you whimpered, "Aemond— a baby, I want one so desperately…"

But then again, you'd wanted a baby so you wouldn't be so alone— someone to keep you company. And now he was here, finally, and you didn't need to be alone anymore.

"I want us to— to be a family," you choked out, and you felt his smile against the side of your face.

"We are," he whispered. "Already, we are. Husband and wife. But, you would look divine carrying a son…"

You hummed contentedly at the praise, feeling his hand rub gently on your belly right where it would swell the most.

"Perhaps I will, then," he decided. "Bless you with a child… if you'd like that."

He was taunting you, tricking you into begging him for it— and you didn't mind at all, happy to oblige. "Yes! Please, my husband, my prince— I long for it, let me have your son, please… if you give me your seed, I promise, I'll do all I can—"

"Shh," he soothed softly, "I know you will. I know— such a good wife you are, a perfect wife…"

You felt warm tears run down your temples, all this devotion to him finally appreciated when you feared it would all go to waste. Clinging tighter onto him, you tried to hide your face in the curve of his neck. But he gently pried you away, cooing, "No, no— let me see you, let your husband gaze on you— oh, what a sweet face. Shall I kiss your tears away? All will be right, my love… you'll have our son. And what a lovely mother you'll make."

Maybe it was a strange thing to push you right up to the edge— but you’d been approaching it for a while, that was just the moment you realised how close you really were. The way he said it, you could somehow tell he’d thought for a while that you’d make a good mother for his children; maybe he thought that from the start, he must have if he agreed to marry you. And at the same time that it filled your chest with pride, it made your gut burn with a need for something you couldn’t quite define but that you knew was incredibly close.

Apparently, he was in a similar situation, though much more aware of what it really was than you were. “It won’t be much longer,” he promised. “If you ask me, I will— are you sure it’s what you want?”

"Please, my prince," you whimpered as you held on tightly to the sheets. "Please! Give me your seed, please—"

"Fuck," he groaned, "once more—"

"Fill me, Aemond, with your child— I'll do anything, I want it so much, I want to be pregnant—"

"My name," he hissed, shutting his eyes tightly as his thrusts became erratically fast. "Say my name again."

"Aemond," you whimpered, losing yourself in pleasure just as his name crossed your lips. "Aemond, my husband, my beloved— yours, m'yours, only you, Aemond—"

It was a feeling so powerful that it felt like you separated from reality for a brief moment— like you were floating in water except less wet and more… hot, more all-encompassing, more pure sensation that filled you from head to toe— and then seemed to rob you of all your remaining strength at once. As you went limp, he whined loudly and his movements faltered. It took you a moment to realise it was finally time: you were finally being filled by your husband. He groaned softly as he panted, silver hair sticking to the sheen of sweat on his face.

He looked absolutely beautiful, even more than usual. And he finally blinked his eyes open and looked at you like he'd never seen anything so perfect.

His thumb gently wiped away a tear from your temple. "Lovely wife," he praised under his breath. "I can't wait to see you with child. I hate how long I waited… if I had taken you as I should have on our wedding night, our son would be almost here now…"

You pulled him down onto you for a tight hug. "None of that matters now," you whispered to him sweetly. "Just hold me, my husband— you said you'd never let me go."

He smiled as he sighed, melting into your arms and wrapping you up in his own. "Yes, my lady," he agreed as he tenderly kissed the side of your face.

He looked up at you when you entered the room, and even just the slight smile on his face made you fill with joy; for someone as stoic as Aemond, you knew it was a sign of incredible affection to be smiled at that way. “Good morn, my lady,” he greeted, standing from his seat at the breakfast table.

“I worried when I awoke without you,” you admitted, clutching shyly at your nightgown.

“I figured you would be used to it by now,” he smirked. “Have I spoiled you with affection already?”

Chewing your lip, you glanced away. “I thought— you said you’d never let me go.”

“Well, I wasn’t hungry when I said that,” he replied, chuckling. “I awoke earlier and was afraid to disturb you… you seemed in need of your rest.”

You seemed worn out from all the fucking, he really meant, but he was still trying to be polite.

“Aren’t you going to sit with me and dine, my love?” he prompted, nodding towards the chair nearest to him— not even across the table, where you used to sit. Feeling like you’d received some sort of promotion to sit so close, you happily bounced up to the table and a servant stepped forward to pull the chair out for you. “Actually—”

You and the servant both stopped, and you worried you were about to get kicked back to the end of the table; instead, he sat back in his chair and motioned for you to step closer. Normally, Aemond wouldn’t sit again until any lady in the room was seated (he was mindful of custom, always), but as you came closer, he patted his knee, and you felt your face warm up.

“You could sit with me,” he suggested, and you tried not to show how ecstatic you were as you perched yourself in his lap. He looked up at you with his uncovered eye, smiling, and draped his arm around your waist. It felt, honestly, a little bizarre to have him be this affection, even if he’d shown you love in the most literal way just last night… you were still getting used to it. And this felt very different, though it made you quite happy. “Would you like a grape?” he offered, gesturing to his plate.

“I was upset before that I felt I didn’t know my husband very well,” you recalled, totally ignoring his innocuous question, “and now I think I knew even less than I thought.”

He tilted his head. “How do you mean?”

“You’re so… romantic!” you blurted out, and he laughed.

“I don’t know about that,” he denied. “But I am rather taken with you. And I must say…”

His voice lowered, as did his gaze, while his hand traced down your back delicately through your clothes.

“...I’m still just as affected by seeing you in your dressing gown,” he finished softly.

“I-I—” you stammered, making him smile amusedly at you. “I’m still just as amazed at how forward you can be, my prince… and to think I thought of you as shy once.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “I am shy,” he assured. “I’ll even dismiss the servants before I fuck you on this table.”

You raised your hand to your mouth to cover it, hoping to suppress your shocked giggle, but he grabbed it and held it tightly as he pulled you even closer, until you thought he might kiss you. He didn’t, yet: he only looked at your face very carefully. You looked back at him, of course, and found yourself reaching up to stroke his cheek as you admired his sharp, harsh sort of beauty. “You… you really plan to take me again, husband? Now?”

He smiled wide, maybe wider than you’d ever seen. “I was going to let you have breakfast first,” he clarified. “Unless ‘now’ is your preference.”

You looked away, smiling to yourself. “I’ve heard eagerness is unladylike,” you dodged his obvious attempt to make you out to be the needy one. Which wasn’t exactly false, but not fair either: you knew he wanted you just as badly, and finally knowing that gave you a little confidence to toy with him instead.

“Maybe you aren’t the finest lady, then,” he accused, which almost hurt before he continued, “but you are the most perfect wife any man has ever had, or wished to have.”

And, in an objective sense, Aemond hadn’t been much of a husband. Last night notwithstanding, he was all but cruel to you— and though he’d finally allowed himself to give in to desire for you, it was not as if his entire personality would change, he was still… whoever he was, an enigma with white hair and an eyepatch.

But he was perfect to you, and you loved him with everything you had.

You knew Aemond hated these sorts of things, but you loved them. He hated the loud guests, the small talk, the awkward customs— but those were the things you liked the most, they seemed to bring life to the empty old castle.

It wouldn’t be as empty soon, though; that was the purpose of this banquet, to announce and celebrate your impending addition to the family. And as much as Aemond generally disliked social engagements, he was obviously glowing with pride as he showed off his pregnant lady wife to the court. Now that you saw it on him, you thought maybe that was what he meant when he said you were glowing… but you weren’t sure, because whenever he said it you just figured it was sweat from having to carry around his massively heavy child all the time.

Not that you minded! You loved it, and he doted on you more than ever, kissing your belly and coming up with all kinds of plans for his son— and he was still sure it was a son, with no proof at all, but you weren’t even going to try to convince him otherwise.

“A toast,” Aemond instructed his guests, who raised their goblets in turn with him, “to my son, Vaegon—”

The guests started to lower their cups, but he wasn’t finished.

“— and his mother, my darling lady wife.”

You beamed as he squeezed your shoulder. Yes, it was no wonder you loved banquets now that you had the most adoring husband by your side for the night.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon reader insert

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hyperfixatedimagines · 7 months

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Home for the Holidays Ch.1

Summary: Your family didn't take your coming out well....and instead of spending the holiday alone you join your roommate for Christmas dinner. While Aemond wishes you set your sights on his sister Helaena, your tastes skew much older.

A/N: This is a modern!au milf Alicent x milf lover f!reader. It was supposed to be finished last December lol. It got really long so I broke it into two chapters. It will be smutty, so read with caution if that’s not your thing! Not really smut in part one though.

A/N pt. 2: In this story two of Alicent’s cousins are her older brothers and Baela is not Helaena’s cousin. Not canon compliant.

You knew the holidays were going to be rough this year but had not anticipated just how hard seeing pictures of your family in St. Barts without you would be.

They had not taken your coming out well.

Sure they had promised to keep paying the tuition to your very expensive university until you graduated but that did little to soothe the hurt that their disapproval caused. Your family came from old money, some of the oldest of old in the country, and with that came old ways of thinking. They didn't care that you were gay, plenty of people in your extended family were some form of fruit, but they all stayed in the closet- at least publicly. That was what your family wanted for you as well. Anything to not tarnish their image.

But you couldn't live that way any longer. You wanted to be free.

To your surprise, only your estranged cousin Elia had accepted and even celebrated your coming out of the closet.

Thankfully you had Aemond. The two of you had met in freshman history class. He argued with the professor over every historical inconsistency in his lectures and it drove the professor mad. It made you laugh though. Aemond also came from old money, so the two of you bonded over the pressures that came from families that expected you to be perfect. Sophomore year the two of you moved into an apartment off campus, and your friendship only grew from there.

Aemond was your best friend, and you could not have asked for a better one. Aemond invited you to spend the holiday with his family. He didn’t love spending time with his family as they could be quite a lot but he always went for his mother’s sake.

You figured it beat spending Christmas alone in your flat.

So you got dressed in your very best and sat in the passenger seat of Aemond’s Porsche the whole drive to Oldtown.

Aemond popped another piece of gum into his mouth. “This will be a great opportunity for you and Helaena to bond,” he said as he chewed.

You rolled your eyes. “Not this again.”

Aemond smiled mischievously. “Come on (y/n). You can’t tell me you didn’t feel a connection when she came to visit on my birthday.”

“I can, and I am. She’s not a lesbian Aemond,” you replied.

Aemond was convinced that his sister Helaena was a lesbian. His evidence was that she never had a boyfriend, attended an all women's university, majored in Women’s studies, and only brought home girl best friends for the holidays.

“She talked to you that night, which cannot be said for many other people. Helaena is very selective with who she talks to. You even made her laugh (y/n)! I saw the sparks,” Aemond argued.

You sighed and shook your head. “Even if your sister was by some miracle into women, which I want to firmly state for the record that she is not, she’s simply not my type.”

The light turned red and Aemond’s car pulled to a smooth stop at the intersection. He turned to you.

“You don’t have a type. I’ve seen you bring all types of women home (y/n).”

You smirked. “Ever notice they weren’t at all our age.”

Aemond furrowed his brows. “So your type is older women?”

You nodded. “Yeah, like your mom for example.”

Aemond frowned. “Dude not that again!”

You laughed. “It’s not my fault your mom is a total milf.”

The light turned green. Aemond focused on the road once more. His face contorted in disgust.

“Ugh, yeah you and my mother are not something I’d like to picture.”

You let out another laugh. “Well I certainly have.”

This time Aemond let out a small chuckle. “Do you have the hots for my mother (y/n)? Is that why you said yes to joining us for Christmas?”

You shrugged. “Maybe I do, and maybe it is.”

Aemond chuckled again. “Well if you can make my white, Anglo-saxon, catholic mother do anything untoward this weekend I’ll spend the first two months of the new year cleaning the bathroom every weekend.”

Another red light. The car came to a stop.

You turned to Aemond and put your hand out.

“Deal.”

Aemond turned to you and shook his head. “I was joking.”

“I am not," you replied with a cheeky smile.

“Fine, deal,” Aemond said and shook your hand.

The light turned green. Aemond sped off once more.

You sat back in your seat thinking of Aemond’s mother, Alicent. You had only met her via Facetime when she called to check in on Aemond.

She was a certified smokeshow.

Alicent was beautiful and always held herself with poise. She was dressed impeccably in every photo of her online you could find when you first cyber-stalked her.

She had lost her husband, Aemond’s father, three years ago.

Aemond always skirted around the topic of his father. His father, from what you knew, had never really cared for Aemond and his siblings.

Viserys Targaryen was in his second term as the state's governor when he passed away. The Targaryens were political legends in your state. Many of their family members had been mayors, governors, state senators, and they had even managed to have an ancestor in the oval office.

Aemond’s father had always favored his only daughter from his first marriage, Rhaenyra. He had poised her to be the city’s mayor but his death led to a falling out within Aemond’s family. According to Aemond, they had never gotten along with Rhaenyra and her family but they had been cordial while Viserys lived.

When he died, Rhaenyra (who according to Aemond saw his mother as nothing but a gold digging whore) fought Alicent on every asset Viserys owned and vowed to leave Alicent penniless.

Thankfully Aemond’s mother had her family by her side. The Hightowers of Oldtown were an even older political force to be reckoned with. Their wealth dated back to the very founding of the nation.

Aemond’s grandfather, Otto Hightower, had squandered his own inheritance as a young man. It was rumored his family had cut him off and left him to his own devices after he gambled his money away. So Aemond’s mother had grown up having to make a lot of things happen on her own as they didn’t have their family’s backing for most of her life.

It wasn’t until Alicent married Viserys that the Hightowers welcomed Otto, Alicent, and her brothers back into the family fold.

So when Viserys died Alicent had the army of Hightower family lawyers on her side. Alicent managed to win several of Viserys’ homes and the money the prenup she had signed promised her.

Aemond never really spoke of his father, and when he did it was without warmth or love. So you often wondered if this was how all his family felt or if it was just him. You figured you would soon find out.

Aemond pulled up in front of the massive estate.

You got out of the car and marveled at the impressive family home. It wasn’t bigger than the one your family owned but it did look older and felt more imposing.

The estate was decorated from top to bottom in Christmas decor. It was done tastefully, the lights and decor didn’t look tacky, but it certainly conveyed a love for the holiday not many others shared by the look of the estates Aemond had passed by on the drive up.

Aemond popped the truck of the car open and took out his overnight bag. Then he took a deep breath and walked towards you.

“Say the word and we can still go back to the flat,” he joked.

You raised your brows and gave him a sideways look. “And do what? Eat Chinese take out and get drunk?”

Aemond smiled. “That sounds class to me.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“Aemond," said a voice that sounded as sweet as honey and as light as the morning sun.

You and Aemond turned your heads towards the estate.

Aemond’s mother stood at the door. She smiled brightly and waved.

Gods she’s even more beautiful in person, you thought.

Aemond put his hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get this over with then.”

You and Aemond walked up to the door.

Aemond’s mother turned to you and gave you a hug.

“It’s lovely to finally see you in person (y/n)," Alicent said as she politely embraced you.

You were surprised but you quickly recovered and returned the embrace. You noted how warm she felt.

“It’s a pleasure Mrs. Targaryen.”

Alicent pulled away and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh none of that. Call me Alicent,” she said with a smile.

You nodded. “If you insist, Alicent.”

She let out a polite laugh then turned her attention to Aemond. She wrapped her arms around her son. “I’ve missed you so much my little dragon,” she cooed.

Aemond blushed as he pulled away from his mother.

“Mom,” he chided.

Alicent laughed. “What? I can’t call you my little dragon anymore?”

You laughed and turned to Aemond. “Little dragon?”

Alicent turned to you. “He used to love running around pretending he was a dragon when he was a boy.”

You reached out and pinched Aemond’s now rosy cheek. “How cute, little dragon.”

Aemond swatted your hand away. “That only happened when I was seven and it’s because the dragon is on our family crest.”

“If it makes you feel better my nickname used to be baby cabbage in our mother tongue," you revealed, hoping to lessen Aemond's embarrassment.

Alicent laughed. “Why baby cabbage?”

You blushed under her gaze. “I was a very chubby baby.”

“How darling,” Alicent quipped.

Butterflies fluttered in your chest at the compliment. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Aemond staring at you.

He cleared his throat and pulled his mother’s gaze away from you. “Let’s go inside, it’s bitterly cold out.”

Alicent nodded. “Of course come on in. Aegon is already up in his room. Helaena and her friend should be getting in any minute now.”

Alicent stepped aside and Aemond walked inside.

You followed after him and felt the butterflies in your chest multiply when you caught Alicent looking you over from head to toe with a small smile on her face.

Aemond and Aegon decided to smoke a joint before dinner.

You weren’t against it but didn’t care to partake so you wandered downstairs and figured you’d ask Alicent if she needed any help with dinner.

You knocked on the wall of the kitchen entryway.

Alicent was stirring something in the saucepan but looked up when she heard you knock. She smiled.

Butterflies filled your chest once more.

“Hi there,” she said.

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans. Your palms had already started to sweat and you hadn't even spoken yet.

“Hi...Uh I was wondering if you needed help with anything?”

Alicent waved you off. “You’re a guest (y/n). I could never ask you to do anything,” Alicent protested.

You stepped closer and leaned against the counter next to the stove. “Then it’s a great thing I’m asking you. Really, I want to help out,” you insisted.

Alicent let out a small laugh. “Okay, you can stir this gravy while I check on the roast.”

You stepped up to the stove and took over the stirring.

Alicent went to the oven that was inlaid on the side of the stove, and took a look at the roast.

“Did you decorate or did you hire someone to decorate your home?”

Alicent stuck a meat thermometer in the roast and turned her head towards you. “Depends, do you think it’s too much?”

You smiled. “Of course not. It’s beautifully done.”

Alicent brightened at the compliment. “Then it was all me,” she beamed.

“Do you always go all out on the holidays?”

Alicent placed the roast back on its rack and closed the oven door. “Just Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday because I finally have my family all under one roof again."

She took her oven mitts off.

You continued to stir the gravy. “Well I hope it’s okay that you have a stray joining you at the table this year."

Alicent approached the stove once more.“It’s Christmas, the more the merrier.”

Then Alicent reached out for the spoon. You went to hand it off.

But then your hand met hers.

You didn’t move, and neither did Alicent.

She met your gaze.

You were too scared to even breathe. It felt as though if you moved even an inch the spell that kept her eyes on you would break.

But it broke anyway.

Alicent cleared her throat and looked away.

You let go of the spoon.

Alicent grabbed the spoon and resumed stirring. With her free hand she lowered the heat of the flame. “Besides, I’ll have two stays. Helaena is bringing a friend from school," she said, as though your brief moment of intense something had never happened.

You took a step back and leaned on the counter. “Right, you mentioned that before. Do you know much about her?”

Alicent continued to stir. She did not meet your gaze. “Not really. Helaena doesn’t share much about her college life with me. All I know is that her name is Baela, and that they’re spending Christmas day with her family.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly. Was Aemond right about his sister being into women?

Alicent noticed. “Why’d you make that face?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just something stupid Aemond said," your face suddenly felt warmer.

Now it was Alicent who raised her eyebrows in intrigue. “What is it?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure if Aemond would mind you sharing his thoughts with his mother.

Alicent noted your apprehension. “I won’t tell Aemond you mentioned anything.”

You looked into Alicent’s eyes. They were a deep and rich brown. They were comforting. You realized that with eyes like that you would tell her anything she wanted. But her gaze was too hot so you swallowed hard and looked away from her when you told her what Aemond had said.

“He thinks Helaena is gay, and is obsessed with getting her and I together. I’m ninety percent sure that’s the sole reason he invited me over today.”

Alicent stopped stirring and stared at you.“Gay? Why does he think Helaena is gay?”

You shrugged.

Alicent placed a hand on her hip. "I think you do know."

You dared look up. Alicent's attention was fully focused on you. You felt your stomach in your throat but you spoke anyway.

“According to Aemond, Helaena never expresses interest in men or in dating a man, only talks about women she admires, attends a historically women’s college and majors in women’s studies, and finally that she only ever brings girls home on the holidays.”

Alicent chuckled and went back to stirring the gravy. “Oh gods. You know I’ve never known why kids today still hang onto outdated stereotypes about sexuality. I was the very same at Helaena’s age, she’ll grow out of it when she meets her future husband. I know I did.”

You pushed yourself onto the counter and sat down, intrigued at the revelation of Alicent's past.

“You were a women’s studies major at an all girl college?”

Alicent tilted her head to the side.“Sort of. I majored in English literature at Vassar, and I only ever brought my girl friends home for the holidays. Until I met my late husband of course.”

Aemond had never told you that his mother had gone to an all women’s university or that she had a BA in English Lit. It piqued your interest. You needed to know more.

“How did you meet him?”

Alicent returned her gaze to the stove and brought the heat of the burner even lower. “My father introduced us. He was Viserys’ chief of staff in his first term.”

You knew there had been an age difference between them but had not imagined it was that big.

“Interesting...”

Alicent didn’t reply but she glanced over at you.

You hopped off the counter, awkward with the sudden silence. “What else can I help with?”

Alicent smiled softly. “You really don’t have to (y/n).”

You shook your head. “I insist. Have you set the table? If not I would be more than happy to do so.”

Alicent turned the heat off and moved the sauce pot to a different burner. She looked up at you. “I laid everything out but I haven’t set it up.”

You clapped your hands together. “Consider it done.”

Then you raised your hand to your forehead and gave Alicent a mock salute.

Alicent laughed.

You set the table as you had always been taught to. Spoons and knives on the right and forks on the left.

Then, just as you were almost done setting the table you realized the salad forks were missing.

You double checked the pile where Alicent had left everything, hoping they were under a napkin and you had simply missed them. But no dice. They weren’t there.

So you walked back to the kitchen.

Alicent was now working on the salad she planned to serve. She looked up when you entered the kitchen, a smile on her face. It seemed like she always had a smile ready for you.

You smiled back, it was instinct around her. “Hey uhm- I’m almost done setting the table but I realized the salad forks are missing. I can’t find them.”

Alicent furrowed her brow. “Really? I could have sworn I set them out with the rest.”

She grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped her hands of any residue.

Then she exited the kitchen and walked towards her china hutch.

You watched her from the kitchen entryway.

While you waited for Alicent to find the forks you looked about the room. When you looked up you realized someone had hung mistletoe over the entryway.

You smiled.

Alicent walked to you, forks in hand. She stopped at the entryway. “I’m so sorry I forgot to set them out with the rest.”

She handed the forks over to you.

You reached out to take them and for a brief minute your hands met hers, once again.

Your gaze met hers. “Don’t apologize. I honestly don’t know how you’re doing all the cooking and decorating all on your own. Aemond and I were barely able to put a tree up.”

Alicent smiled. She didn’t pull away this time. “You’re too sweet (y/n).”

You returned her smile. Your cheeks were starting to hurt but you wouldn't dare not smile back. “I do have to ask you something," you said, emboldened by the continued contact with Alicent.

Alicent raised a brow. “Ask me something?”

You nodded slightly then continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen mistletoe hung in the entryway of a kitchen before.”

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “Mistletoe?”

You looked up. Alicent followed your gaze.

Her eyes widened a bit when she noticed the mistletoe. “Oh I- That Aegon,” she cursed.

You looked back down at her and laughed.

Alicent met your gaze once more, blush filled her cheeks.

Then she pulled her hands away from yours.

You took the forks and held them against you. “It's quite a funny placement isn't it?"

Alicent walked past you, back to her salad preparations.

“Oh yeah? How so,” Alicent replied, busying herself with her salad to avoid looking at you.

“It reminds me of the old saying, love the meal and kiss the chef."

Alicent stopped chopping the greens and looked over at you. She let out a small laugh. “Is that a saying? I don't think I've heard it before."

You shrugged. “I swear I've heard it before, somewhere...Well if it's not it should be."

Alicent shook her head, the smile still on her face. “Let’s see if you still want to kiss the chef after you’ve had my cooking.”

Butterflies filled your chest. You stood up a little straighter. “Deal.”

Alicent turned to you once more, her eyebrows raised.

You twirled around and walked back to the dining room. You could feel Alicent’s eyes on you as you walked away.

You finished setting the table.

Then you stepped back and admired your work.

You hoped Alicent would like it. So you turned to head back to the kitchen but stopped in the hall when you heard the doorbell ring.

You turned to open it but Aemond beat you to it.

“Sister,” Aemond said and reached out to hug a familiar blonde.

Alicent walked out of the kitchen and went to the door.

Helaena let go of Aemond and turned to her mother. Alicent wrapped Helaena in another hug.

Behind her, a silver haired girl stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Helaena pulled away from her mom and stepped back to the silver haired girl’s side. She slid her hand in the girl’s. “Mom, Aemond, this is my best friend Baela.”

Alicent stepped forward and stuck her hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Baela.”

Baela shook Alicent’s hand. “Thank you for having me over Mrs. Targaryen. Helaena has told me so much about you all.”

Alicent laughed lightheartedly. “All good things I hope.”

You took note that she didn’t ask Baela to call her Alicent.

Aemond gave Baela a polite nod. “Welcome Baela.”

Baela smiled at him. “Thank you Aemond.”

Then Aemond noticed you standing in the hall and he waved you over. You approached them with a smile.

Aemond went to your side and put his arm around your shoulders. “Helaena look who’s joining us tonight.”

Helaena smiled when she turned to face you. “(y/n), it’s nice to see you again.” She stepped forward and gave you a hug.

Aemond dropped his arm and stepped away from the both of you.

You returned Helaena’s hug. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Aemond giving you a knowing smirk.

Helaena pulled away and held you at arm’s length. “I’m so happy you’re joining us for dinner.”

“As am I,” you replied.

Helaena gave your arms a squeeze before she stepped back to Baela’s side.

You stuck your hand out to Baela. “Nice to meet you. I’m Aemond’s friend (y/n).”

Baela shook your hand warmly. “Nice to meet you as well.”

Then Baela stepped back and Helaena looped her arm around Baela’s.

“We’ll be upstairs in my room. Let us know when dinner is ready,” Helaena said before she and Baela started up the stairs.

“Okay,” Alicent said as she watched them leave. Then she turned to you and Aemond.

“Do you need any more help,” you asked Alicent.

Alicent shook her head. “You’ve been a tremendous help. Please go have fun.”

Aemond put his arm around your shoulders once more. “Let’s go play some video games on Aegon’s new system.”

Aemond led you to the stairs.

You craned your head back to look at Alicent. “If you need any more help just let me know! I’d be more than happy to.”

Alicent gave you another smile. “I will.”

Then she walked back into the kitchen and you followed Aemond up the stairs.

After about an hour of playing mario party with Aemond and Aegon (who you didn’t much care for because he could be crass but he had never been improper towards you so you didn’t mind him much) you heard the doorbell ring.

“That will be grandfather,” Aemond said with a sigh.

Aegon slumped down in his gaming chair on the ground. “I don’t want to go down.”

Aemond clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sooner we go say hello the sooner we can say goodbye.”

Aegon groaned.

You turned to Aemond. “Oh come on, your grandpa can’t be that bad.”

Aegon looked at you with an incredulous expression. “You have no idea."

Then you all stood and made your way to the entrance.

You trailed behind the boys.

You saw Alicent at the door with an older man who you figured was her father, and three younger men who greeted Alicent with smiles and hugs. You figured they were her brothers.

Aemond had told you he had three uncles on his mother’s side. He hadn’t mentioned much about them other than they were all still bachelors, which to you spoke volumes about them as two looked older than Alicent and only one looked younger than her.

The older man turned to Aegon and Aemond, who were now at the door.

“Boys,“ the man cheered before greeting each one with a hug and heavy pat on the back.

Aemond returned the hug while Aegon went limp in his grandfather’s arms. Then their uncles greeted each one.

You noticed that Alicent had straightened her posture and kept a more neutral expression. She greeted her father and sibling politely, with none of the warmth of earlier greetings.

There was a lot that you didn’t know about Alicent and her family but you figured it was not all rainbows and sunshine by the change in her demeanor.

“You got here just in time father. Dinner is ready and served,” Alicent proclaimed.

Her father nodded. “Very good timing Alicent.”

Then Alicent turned to Aemond. “Would you tell the girls it’s dinner time?”

Aemond nodded. Then he sped back up the stairs. He reached you and started to tell you but you told him you had heard.

So he left you and went to tell Helaena and Baela.

You made your way down the staircase and to the dining room.

Alicent’s father and brothers seated themselves. Her father sat at the head of the table and insisted Aegon sit on the other end. Aegon did not protest.

Alicent came out of the kitchen with the salad she prepared in her arms.

You went to her side. “Do you need any help bringing out the food?”

Alicent gave you a half smile. “It’s alright (y/n). I’ve set it all on the table. You just sit down and enjoy.“

You nodded and followed Alicent into the dining room. You sat down on the empty side of the table. You introduced yourself to Alicent’s family as you sat down. They all gave you various levels of appropriate greetings.

Thankfully Aemond, Helaena and Baela came in and sat down next to you. Aemond sat to your right, beside his grandfather, and Helaena to your left. Baela sat on her left, with Aegon on Baela’s left. Opposite you sat Alicent. To her left sat her brother Gwayne (as he had introduced himself to you), beside his father. To Alicent’s right sat her brothers Lyonel and Martyn.

You took in the sight of the absolute feast that was before you. “This all looks delicious, Alicent,” you said without thinking.

Alicent gave you a small smile, blush tinting her cheeks once again. “Thank you (y/n). You’re too kind.”

Her father, Otto as you now knew him, let out an indifferent huff. “The roast looks a bit overdone. How long did you leave it in for,” he remarked.

Alicent’s smile fell from her face. She looked down at her hands. “I followed mother’s recipe to the letter father.”

Otto let out another huff. “We’ll see about that.”

Alicent frowned.

Your focus was pulled away from them when Aemond gently ribbed you with his elbow.

“You’ve got the perfect seat to talk to Helaena,” he whispered.

You turned your head slightly to get a better look at Helaena. She was too busy chatting with Baela to even notice you.

You turned back to Aemond. “It’s not happening Aemond.”

Aemond frowned then turned his attention to his grandfather.

Otto rose from his seat and tapped his wine glass with a fork, calling everyone’s attention.

“It warms my heart to see the family gathered for another Christmas. A man’s true wealth can be measured by the strength of his family...and the strength of his business. I am pleased to announce that your uncle Ormund has set up a donor fund for Aegon’s first mayoral campaign.”

Alicent’s brothers clapped and cheered for Aegon. Alicent clapped softly and gave Aegon a sympathetic look.

Aegon’s face turned a sickly pale color. He didn’t meet his grandfather’s gaze.

You had a feeling this was the first Aegon was hearing of his mayoral candidacy.

Otto raised his glass. “To Aegon, first stop the mayor of Oldtown, last stop the president’s office.”

“Huzzah,” Martyn cheered.

You raised your glass alongside the rest purely out of propriety. Everyone could tell by the look on Aegon’s face this was the last thing he wanted.

You turned to look at Alicent who had guilt written all over her face. Your heart softened.

Otto set his glass down after taking a drink. Then he grabbed the carving knife and fork and got to work on the roast.

The meal was going well. Until of course Alicent’s family set their attention towards you.

Lyonel, Alicent’s eldest brother, turned towards you. “So (y/n), what’s your family do?”

Martyn nodded. “Yeah your name sounds familiar.”

You took a quick sip of your wine before you replied. “My family are mainly philanthropists now but our family used to own the majority of the railways in the country,” you confessed.

“That’s right, (y/l/n) rail,” Otto chimed in.

“Yes sir, but my father is focused on tech philanthropy now.” Below the table your palms started to sweat. Talking with Otto Hightower felt a lot like speaking with your grandfather as a child. They both had very imposing auras.

“A pity,” Martyn responded as he shoveled another piece of roast into his mouth.

Alicent whipped her head towards her brother. “Martyn,” Alicent chided.

Martyn shrugged. “What? Her family used to be major players in the nation.”

Lyonel nodded, agreeing with his brother. But he didn’t stop there. “So why aren’t you spending Christmas with them?”

You dug your fingers into the palms of your hands. You felt like something was stabbing the inside of your throat.

Thankfully, Alicent and Aemond came to your aid. “Lyonel,” Alicent reprimanded.

Then she turned to you. “You don’t have to answer that (y/n). Please forgive my brothers.”

Aemond nodded. “Yeah (y/n) you don’t have to engage my troublesome uncles.”

Lyonel and Martyn rolled their eyes.

Otto was silent but his piercing gaze remained on you.

You swallowed hard before you put on a polite smile. You looked at Aemond then at Alicent. “It’s alright,” you assured them.

Then you turned to Alicent’s brothers.

“I came out to my family a few months ago and it's safe to say they don’t approve of my new ‘lifestyle’ as they call it.”

Lyonel’s face went red. Martyn looked away.

Internally, you smiled at the sight of them embarrassed.

Alicent’s voice pulled you back to the present. “They’ll come around eventually (y/n). The love a parent has for their child is immeasurable.”

You smiled at her. “I really hope you’re right.”

Gwayne, who had not said much all dinner, cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him.

He turned to Aemond. “So Aemond, how’s your fencing coming along?”

And just like that the pressure was off you and onto Aemond.

Many minutes later the meal came to a close.

The men whisked Aegon and Aemond outside to play ball, leaving only the women inside.

You, Alicent, Helaena, and Baela cleaned up the table.

Alicent and Baela made their way to the kitchen with the leftover food while you and Helaena stacked up a pile of dirty dishes.

Helaena looked over at you. “That was very brave of you,” she said.

You set the plate you had picked up down. “What was brave?”

Helaena stopped clearing the table. She turned to face you. “Telling everyone your family iced you out after you came out. Coming out to your family is incredibly brave, and you’re even braver for sharing that with practical strangers.”

You smiled and felt your face warm. You weren’t attracted to Helaena but she had an otherworldly presence that made any attention she gave you feel special. “Thank you Helaena.”

She reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “If you ever need to talk or need support, I’m here for you.”

You put your hand on top of hers. “Thank you.”

Then the two of you finished clearing the table.

You finished bringing the last of the dirty dishes into the kitchen.

Helaena trailed in after you and set her stack on the counter. “Mother, Baela and I will be in my room.”

Alicent nodded, up to her elbows in leftover food that she was trying to shove into various containers.

Baela and Helaena left the kitchen.

You turned to Alicent. “Do you need some help with that?”

Alicent struggled to secure the lid on the container as she had over packed it with food. Alicent shook her head. “I got it.”

You continued to watch her struggle. “I don’t think you do.”

Alicent stopped trying and stepped aside. “Okay then tough guy, you give it a go.”

You smiled and walked up to the counter. You pressed the lid down on all sides until you heard it click. It was secure.

Alicent clicked her tongue. "Lucky try."

You turned to her. “Always happy to help.”

Alicent took the container full of food and stacked it with the others. “You don’t have to hang around here (y/n). You can go see Aemond or Helaena.”

You furrowed your brows. “Helaena?”

Alicent turned to the fridge and started the game of stacking the leftovers. “Yes, I saw the two of you talking while you cleared the table. Perhaps Aemond was right after all. I’ve never seen Helaena take to someone new so quickly.”

“You were watching us," you asked, butterflies forming at the thought of Alicent spying on you.

“Why do you say it as if I was spying on you? I saw you from the window in the kitchen is all." She said with a lazy smile on her face.

“Right....We were just talking. Besides,Aemond is out playing sports with your brothers and father and I am not a sports fan. And I would hate to interrupt Helaena and Baela's alone time,” you joked.

Alicent chuckled. She turned to grab the rest of the leftovers from the counter.

You stepped forward and grabbed them. You handed them to her, one by one. “Besides, I like being in your company,” you confessed.

Alicent stopped arranging the leftovers and looked back at you. “Really?”

You nodded.

Alicent smiled shyly and returned her attention to the refrigerator. “I wish my own children felt the same. All but Aemond dodge my calls.”

You shrugged. “If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always free.”

Alicent turned to you and you handed her the final container of leftovers. “Thank you (y/n).”

Her fingers lingered over yours. Alicent looked down at them. She stared at them for a moment before biting her lip.

“What’s your verdict?”

You furrowed your brows. “I’m sorry?”

Alicent looked up, and took the container from you. “About my food. Was it good enough to kiss the chef?”

Your face went hot. “Oh...uhm I-”

Alicent placed the container in the fridge then closed it. She turned back to you.

You were still too stunned to say anything.

So her smile fell and she shook her head. “Forget it, it was stupid.”

“No it’s not stupid I-," you stammered then cleared your throat. “I was just caught off guard is all.”

Alicent stared at you, not saying anything.

So you continued.

“The roast was cooked perfectly.”

Her smile returned. “Thank you (y/n).”

You stepped closer to her. “So I do believe I will kiss the chef after all.”

Alicent swallowed hard, not taking her gaze off you. “Oh,” she whispered.

You stood in front of her, and looked down at her lips. “May I?”

The last thing you wanted was for Alicent to feel uncomfortable or coerced. So you waited for her reply before doing anything else.

Alicent gave you an almost imperceptible nod.

You leaned in, at first determined to kiss her lips, but as you neared her skin you thought better of it.

She was just committing to the bit, you told yourself, she didn't actually want you to kiss her.

So you placed a gentle kiss on Alicent’s cheek, inches away from her lips but still in a chaste enough location.

You noticed a small frown spread across Alicent’s lips as you pulled away.

But it was quickly wiped away.

Alicent blushed furiously. She looked away from you.

You also felt your face warm.

You heard footsteps approach the kitchen. So you stepped away from Alicent and leaned on the counter.

Alicent must have also heard them as she busied herself with wiping down the stove top with a nearby rag.

Aemond appeared moments later. He looked between you and his mother, slightly suspicious, but then he shook his head and turned to you. “Aegon wants another couple rounds of Deadly Fighter 5. You up for it?”

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Aemond turned and headed towards the hall.

You started after him but turned at the entryway of the kitchen. “It was a lovely meal, thank you.”

Alicent nodded, her cheeks still rosy. “Of course.”

Then you hurried after Aemond.

A part of you wished you had been brave enough to kiss Alicent on the lips.

You mashed various button combinations as your chosen fighter threw punches at Aemond’s chosen character on the tv screen.

He was currently beating you in the second round.

Behind you, Aegon took a hit from his bong and blew it out in perfect circles.

“So let me get this right, you want to fuck our mom,” Aegon repeated.

You grimaced. “Why must you say it like that?”

Aemond’s character delivered the killing blow to you. You lost.

Aemond turned to you. “Aegon’s crudeness aside, he’s not wrong. I’ve seen the way you linger in the kitchen alone with her.”

You felt your face start to warm. You cleared your throat and tried your best to appear nonchalant.

“I didn’t want her to think I was a rude guest. No one else was helping her,” you argued.

Aegon took another hit before he spoke again. “You know, I always thought Mom was a lesbian,” he mused.

Aemond turned to him. “You did?”

Aegon nodded. “She never really liked Dad, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard her call a man sexy.”

Aemond furrowed his brows. “Because Dad was a dick. Mother is a devout Catholic she would never call another man sexy. I don’t even think that word is in her vocabulary.”

You turned to Aemond. “Your arguments for why Heleana is gay are just as flimsy.”

Aegon turned to Aemond. “You think Helaena is gay?”

Aemond shrugged. “What else could she be? She’s definitely not into men.”

“She’s not into anything. She’s a freak like that,” Aegon said and laughed at his own joke.

Aemond threw a pillow at Aegon’s head.

It bumped Aegon’s head and knocked the bong out of his hands.

“Hey,” Aegon whined.

You and Aemond laughed.

An hour later, the time had arrived for you to leave.

You descended the stairs with Aegon and Aemond in tow.

At the bottom of the stairs Alicent was already saying goodbye to her father and brothers. She finished giving each a hug goodbye.

Then she noticed Aemond and Aegon. Alicent asked the boys to say goodbye to their grandfather and uncles.

Aegon and Aemond did as their mother asked and gave their family a hug goodbye.

Helaena and Baela came down the stairs and Helaena said goodbye to her grandfather and uncles.

Once they were gone, Helaena informed her mother it was time for her and Baela to leave.

Alicent gave Helaena a big hug. “I’ll miss you, my bug, she said as she gave Helaena a kiss on the forehead.

Then Alicent said goodbye to Baela, another handshake.

Baela and Helaena made their way out the door.

You were the last guest there.

Alicent and the boys looked towards you.

You dialed your cousin Elia once more. Once again you got the automated message the call could not be connected.

“I’m having some trouble with my cell. Could I use your landline?” You asked.

Aemond furrowed his brows. He turned to his mom. “Do we even have one?”

Alicent nodded. “Of course we do.” Then she turned to you. “It’s this way.”

She led you to a small alcove with the landline and a seat next to it at the end of the hall.

You thanked her and dialed Elia’s number once more.

This time you got through. It rang three times before she answered.

“Hello?”

“Elia, it’s (y/n). I’m calling from my friend’s landline. I couldn’t get through on my cell for some reason.”

You pressed the phone closer to your ear. There was a lot of background noise and you could not hear Elia very well.

“I tried to call you. I can’t make it out to pick you up. There’s been a freak snowstorm in Sunspear. They closed all the roads and aren’t letting anyone through. I’m so sorry kiddo,” Elia lamented.

Your heart sank.

One for the snow storm that was probably wreaking havoc in Sunspear. It was a town that almost never got anything besides sun.

And secondly because now you had no way to get back to your flat.

You swallowed hard before answering. “Stay safe Elia. Please call me with updates, okay?”

“You got it kiddo. Is there anyone else who can take you home?”

“I’ll figure it out, Elia. Don’t worry about that,” you said.

The line started to fade in and out. Elia wished you a safe ride home and a merry Christmas.

You did the same then hung up.

Then you walked back to the entryway where Alicent, Aegon and Aemond stood.

You shoved your hands in your pockets. “Soo...a freak snowstorm hit Sunspear and Elia can’t pick me up.”

Alicent frowned. “Oh no, is she alright?”

You nodded. “Yeah she’s doing okay. Uhm, so I’ll try to call my family’s driver to see if he can make it out. It might take him an hour or two to drive from High Garden but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Alicent shook her head and approached you. “Nonsense, you’ll stay the night with us and you can leave with Aemond tomorrow evening.”

She reached for your hands and held them. “Got it?”

You flushed. “I couldn’t possibly bother you all like that.“

“You are no bother (y/n). Now come on, let me show you to the guest bedroom.”

Then Alicent pulled you along the staircase and to the guest bedroom.

Aemond trailed behind the two of you.

Alicent led you to a beautiful room with ample space and a fireplace. She asked Aemond to start a fire as the room could get quite cold at night.

Aemond did so without protest and soon a fire roared in the hearth.

Then Alicent asked Aemond to fetch you a pair of his pajamas.

Again, Aemond did so without protest.

While Aemond was gone you turned to Alicent. “Are you sure this isn’t an imposition? I can still call the family driver.”

Alicent waved you off. “You’re staying and that’s final. You got it?”

You nodded. Her dominant tone ignited a flame of your own. “Thank you,” was all you could say without giving your desire away.

Aemond returned with a fresh pair of pajamas in hand. He gave them to you.

You thanked him.

Alicent clapped her hands together. “Wonderful, we will leave you to get settled. Breakfast is tomorrow at 9am.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

Alicent reached out and gave your shoulder a light squeeze. “Sleep well,” she said.

You smiled. “You as well.”

Then Alicent turned and left the room.

Aemond stepped forward. “We’ll try again with Helaena at New Years.”

You groaned. “Please, no more of that.”

Aemond chuckled. “We’ll see. Good night (y/n).”

“Good night Aemond,” you replied as you shook your head.

Aemond walked out and shut the door behind him.

Finally, you were alone.

You changed into the pajamas Aemond gave you and settled into the plush king sized bed. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come. You decided to think about Alicent, in hopes you dreamt of her.

You smiled.

Unfortunately, sleep did not come for you. You tossed and you turned.

All you could think of was how much fun your family was probably having without you in St. Barts.

Then you did the worst possible thing. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and pulled up your mother’s facebook account.

She had already posted many photos of the family in St. Barts. They were smiling from ear to ear, tanned, and it seemed like no one cared you were not in any of the pictures.

Your mom made no mention of your absence in the text of the post and none of the comments (mostly your mom’s pta and book club friends) asked about your whereabouts.

You clicked through the many photos. It wasn’t until you clicked on the last photo that you lost it.

It was a picture of your whole family (minus you), with a caption that read, “Family time is the best time. So thankful to God for allowing the whole family to join us for this Christmas getaway.”

Tears welled in your eyes. They had completely erased you out of the family. You threw your phone across the room.

The tears fell from your eyes and stained your cheeks. You could not stop the sobbing that followed.

It was stupid. You were stupid.

You should not have been crying for a family that clearly did not want you. You wiped your tears and tried to calm yourself.

You struggled to do so but after a few minutes you were finally able to breathe normally again.

You got out of bed and crossed the room to where you had thrown your phone. Then you picked it up. It was a little busted but nothing cracked.

So you pocketed it and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water.

As you started towards the kitchen you noticed lights were on in the study down the opposite hall.

Aemond had briefly mentioned the study on the initial tour he had given you.

You wondered who else was up this late as it was well past 2am.

So you stepped closer. As you neared the study you started to hear small cries and sobs.

You got closer and tried to peer inside.

Thankfully the door was ajar enough that you saw who was inside.

It was Alicent.

The first thing you noticed was how low cut her nightgown was.

It was a beautiful sage green, and it hugged her body pretty tightly. Then your gaze traveled back to the low cut top of the nightgown. You knew it was wrong to stare but you wanted to take in just how stunning Alicent was.

You looked closer and noticed her nipples peeked through the fabric of the nightgown. You swallowed hard.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

Then Alicent sniffled and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

You shook your head. She was clearly upset and there you were ogling her.

You stepped back and tried to leave.

But it was too late.

Alicent stood from her seat. “Who’s there?” She called out.

You didn’t reply. You were far enough away that you hoped by staying quiet she would drop it and you could leave.

You didn’t want to intrude on a clearly private moment.

“Come forward,” Alicent demanded.

You silently cursed yourself. You had no choice but to enter the study.

#alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent higtower imagine #House of the Dragon imagine #House of the Dragon reader insert

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witchthewriter · 1 year

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𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, Chinese, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: thank you anon for this request, it was really creative and I had a lot of fun creating these headcanons x

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

SFW🌿

・You’re a dragonseed; a bastard of House Targaryen, or maybe House Velaryon. In all honesty, you had no idea. Your mother could only describe your father as ‘white-haired’.

・And she only spoke of him on her deathbed.

・Now she was gone.

・But you weren’t alone.

・As a child you dreamt of a beast with white glistening scales, almost iridescent.

・Somehow you knew it wasn’t your imagination, that this being was alive and ... waiting for you

・After your mother’s death, you didn’t know what to do with your life. You spent so much time looking after your mother, who was sick for many years.

・And after she died, the simmering anger that you always carried, had boiled over. So, you decided to find your father. The man that had sired you, and abandoned you.

・The reason for your existence.

・In all your searching, you had come up short. Barely able to move, your body sore from all the travelling, you went to the water.

・And he was waiting for you.

・Seemingly small at first, but once he emerged from the lake, he grew and grew.

・A giant. Or maybe you shrank? Your mind was so tired, your thoughts mush.

・But here he was, standing in front of you, waiting. Waiting as he always had been, for you.

・Your dragon, Laku, has a blue flame that burns so hotly that it’s cold.

・You bonded quickly, fiercely and wholeheartedly

・The first time you came into contact there was a mystic hum that made your whole body vibrate. It became euphoric, and there was no doubt that this was your path

・Laku knew where you needed to go.

・Years went by as you climbed the political ladder at court.

・At first they hadn’t accepted you. Not only were bastards looked down upon, but there was anger from both the Blacks and Green because of Laku.

・Except Daemon.

・He had taken a liking to you. An interest so strong that you were always an afterthought in his day-to-day life.

・Your time at court made her realise that things weren’t so black and white with the royals. Unlike the common people, where you said what you meant and respect was earned, these first-class specimens got what they wanted because they were born into it.

・It turned you somewhat sour

・And to quell your rage, you began to train

・You trained every day, and all-day

・In all sorts of weaponry - swordsmanship, archery, etc.

・And Rhaenyra started to warm to you

・She started to think of you as a friend instead of a threat

・But Daemon was constantly leaving court, not that you cared

・Overtime you became a battle-fierce warrior. Your body was scarred and burnt, but it didn’t matter. That heavy hate had burned you to ashes and in its wake, stood a new woman

・You were revered

・People bowed when you walked the corridors, their eyes never meeting your own.

・And Daemon returned

・Laku had changed with you

・Together you were known as the White Death. Where one ended, there was the other.

・You never let Laku become trained, trapped or chained. He was your soul, and you were his

・But you did understand the conflict between Rhaenyra and Alicent - the betrayal, the jealousy, the love and hatred

・Yet, you stood back and watched the conflict unfold

・Daemon returned to court years later and hardly recognised you

・Never saying a word to you, other than a nod, but it was that nod that made your stomach churn

・Not in fear, nor fury, nor discomfort

・But in ...

・Attraction

・You became colder towards him. So much so, that people started to notice

・There were whispers amongst the court

・You ignored it at first, rumours and gossip were a constant in King’s Landing. It was something you had gotten used to.

・How someone so low-born could outright ignore a Prince (not that they had ever liked Daemon. They were only upset because of the disrespect toward someone of noble birth. If you could do it to Daemon, then others could do it to them.)

・But Daemon didn’t care

・He’d stare at you, and then smirk whenever you glared back. He loved getting underneath your skin.

・It seemed like harmless fun, until one night when he’d had too much to drink and ended up in Mysaria’s bed.

・She was angry with him when the sun rose, and he knew why. He had called her your name:

“Why are you still here? Go to her then!”

・And so he did

・You had been training in the yard when you caught a flash of white hair from the corner of your eye

・You swung your sword in a high arc and held the blade close to his neck

・Yes, you already knew who it was. Often you asked yourself how you had known. But you could never answer

・ “M’lord,” you ground out, chest breathing heavily

・ One side of his mouth turned upward, and he crashed his lips to yours. The blade was still close to his throat, never faltering.

・Your relationship with Daemon is never short of exciting

・You live at Dragonstone, and visit King’s Landing

・Laku was unsure of Caraxes in the beginning, his watery grey eyes assessing the Blood Wyrm

・But now they’re good friends, and often enjoy racing each other to King’s Landing and back

・Daemon’s way of physical intimacy is to lean his forehead against you, sometimes on your own, sometimes on your shoulder

・He also loves kneeling in front of you and burying his face in your stomach while you wrap your hands around his head

・Although no one would dare say anything against you, Daemon is like an unheeding warning. A threat that holds frightening violence and pain

・Viserys doesn’t mind your relationship, and he does like you. But your bold opinions are another headache waiting to happen

・Rhaenyra does hold jealousy, and you don’t know this, but she does hold attraction for both Daemon and yourself

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

‘Snape & The Unbreakable Vow’ by Nicholas Hooper

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

✧ Enemies to LOVERS!!!

✧ Grumpy Who Hates The General Public (Daemon) x The Person Who Gave The Grump Hope For Humanity (You)

✧ Couple Who Can And Will F*ck You Up

#daemon x reader #daemon headcanons #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen x reader #reader insert #game of thrones #game of thrones headcanons #a song of ice and fire #fire and blood #dragon seed #dragonseed #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon headcanons #house of the dragon moodboard #house of the dragon reader insert #HotD reader insert #HotD #HotD x reader

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naelys-the-aster · 2 years

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Jorrāelagon Zālagon CH. 3 (PREVIEW)

Rhaenyra lifted herself from the bed until a hand, presumably Daemon's, grabbed her arm. “Daemon, I have no clue what you’re rambling about, whatever you are doing please stop. This is nonsense, I can hardly understand you! we need to go home-” He grabbed her hand and began muttered nonsense yet again, he pulled her close to him.

“Come to bed with me.” He pulled her on top of him and placed a kiss on her head.

“No, no, no.” you back away from the door letting your back hit the wall, this was- just no. You had not spurned him this much, for him to turn to his niece? He was drunk yes, but- the very thought made you nauseated once more. You steadied yourself on the walls, slowly side stepping down the hall until you were far enough away to run. You found your room after wandering for the rest of the evening, you locked the door behind you and threw yourself on the bed.

Something went out, a flame inside you, and you fell on to the cushions of a couch.

your head fell into your hands…“What in the hell?”

An uncomfortable situation lead to a sleepless night.

Daemon woke up, unfortunately to the early morning rays of the sun shining directly in his eyes.

He groaned and turned his back to the sun. Groggy and definitely hung over, he sat up in- this was not his room he was quick you realize. Before he could mutter a word, a wet washcloth came in contact with his face. Daemon was too hung over to protest or fight, he turned his head to see Rhaenrya in the doorway, her chests and luggage being carried away by the servants and maids.

“Get up, we’re due back in Kings Landing” Rhaenrya spoke, rather too loudly for Daemon’s current condition. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell back into the bed.

Rhaenrya rolled her eyes and stomped toward his side of the bed, ripping off the comforter and blankets “Daemon Get Up, You Have To Fly Y/N Home!” she shouted.

Daemon rolled onto his stomach burying his face deep into the pillow. Rhaenrya shook her head , pissed off, and smacked his head sending him shooting upright.

“Take her! I will remain here!” He snapped.

She looked at him as if he was the stupidest man alive, “You have the double rider saddle! Syrax has already been befitted with the luggage!” she grabbed the towel from his lap and threw it over his head once more, smacking him the face even harder.

“Y/N’s belonging are packed, so are yours, we leave in an hour.” she stated firmly as she walked with heavy heels to the door way.

Before she left she turned to the soiled prince in frustration. “I have no idea what has gotten into you, you’ve ruined the kitchen and the cellar, the halls reek of spoiled wine and the servants are displeased! You spent the night in my bed, droning on about God knows what- I’m the one who should be weary! Get. Ready.”

The thundering slam of the door pounded into Daemon’s head. It must have awoken something in him. He shot out of the bed, stumbling past arms chairs dry heaving.

He ran to the first thing he could find, a ancestral urn, and he heaved as he threw up violently. Nothing but the dark red color of wine filling the urn.

Daemon leaned on the center table, , trying find his balance, attempting to adujst to the sunlight and the world itself spinning around him. Caraxes will have to do most of the navigating this trip home.

He grabbed the urn again, tilting it to view the contents inside, which prompted him to vomitagain, but more profusely. His memory of last night was slowly coming back to him in bit and pieces, and he ran his hands down the length of his face in exaspiration, blinking hard trying to focus his vision.

Daemon just prayed it would be overcast for the flight home.

You felt a hand shake your shoulder and your eyes fluttered open to see Rhaenrya standing about you.

“Rhae, what is going on?” you asked tiredly rubbing you fist against your still half closed eye.

“We’re leaving today, Y/N ” she stated pulled her hand from you.

You looked at her confused, “What about the horse back riding?”

Her eys held a sadness that you couldn’t describe, “We'VE been commanded back to Kings Landing”

You sat up and threw your legs over the side of the bed, “What happened?”

Rhae paced herself to the door and gave you a sad smile back, “Under the King’s request advised by the Hand, he would he like us to return home immediately.”

You frowned and nodded, “May I seat with you?”

Rhae shook her head, “Daemon has the double saddle, I’ve had your things backed with Syrax, Daemon should be up within the hour”

The frown did not fade, “Okay..”

Rhae looked down feeling your sadness in a way, but not for what she may think.

“I’m sorry this trip came to such an abrupt end, we can convince my father to let this happen again” she softly closed your chamber door leaving you to dress in private.

#House of the dragon #Daemon Targaryen #Daemon targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen x oc #Daemon Targaryen x you #reader insert #games of thrones #got #hotd #Demon Targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x oc #house of the dragon x you #House of the dragon reader insert

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flowerpotmage · 1 year

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The Ledan: Pt 2

Chapter One: Dragonstone

Part one here. Read this installment on AO3 here

Summary: Your House, the rulers of a small isle off of Essos, has a tradition of sending the heir to another land as a rite of passage once they are comfortably of age. Your mother, in her time, went to Winterfell to emissary with the Starks. Now it is your turn, and your mother has chosen your destination; King's Landing, with the House Targaryen.

Ship: Aemond Targaryen x nb!afab!Reader

CW: Microaggression, subtle transphobia? Daemon being boldly inquisitive

A/n: If you can name the stone described in this chapter, or tell me what language the reader’s house name is taken from, you get a prize! lol. Also no Aemond this chapter, but he’ll be here in the next one! I like a slowburn, and I want the story to not only focus on the romantic plot.

Credit for linguistics here

As always, you do not have to be nonbinary to enjoy this story if you wish

---

Despite having grown up on an isle, and being fairly at ease with the small sailboats used to hop from isle to island to sandy bars found only at low tide, you decidedly did not enjoy the journey across the sea to Westeros on a true full size ship, and were glad of its nearing end. Your mother’s echoing words in your head did little to settle the unease in your gut.

“But no capital is free of its silent politics and scuttering rats. Nor is it free of pretty vipers in wait.”

A particularly ambitious splash of ocean water frees you from your concentration, and you wipe your face, spluttering lightly, as you turn from the edge and retreat to the safety of the leeward side.

“I’d thought you were seasick, my Ledan,” comes a voice approaching from near the mast. “What are ye doing above boards?”

You turn to face your guard. “Ser Aden,” you greet. “It helps to see the skyline after such a toss and turn night.”

Ser Aden was a man near ten years your senior, a guard under oath of your family for fifteen years past, and a personal favorite of your mother’s. His coal-dark beard is patchy, still silken in texture, though short and trim, and at sea he is still donned in his leather armor, the warm tone of it making his grey eyes all the more sharp and shining.

He nods, coming to lean against the railing with you. “Captain says we should make landfall at Dragonstone on the morrow. Then ‘tis but a short journey to King’s Landing. After a brief rest, should be only a week before our arrival.”

“Well, thank the Ancestors and the Others for that,” you sigh freely. “The open sea was starting to drive me mad.” You shoot a grin over at Ser Aden, who chuckles silently.

“You and I both. Come, let us get out of the Sun before midday arrives and turns us to roast meat.”

—

The next twenty four hours seems to drag, the only clue you have to exactly how imminent your arrival is coming in the form of a frenzied crew double, then triple checking, that the ship is in condition to be even seen by the two royals who will be hosting your first rest after sea.

Then, at last, you see land.

Dragonstone is just as had been described to you–a dark and rocky fortress on a dark and rocky island. Sharp imposing lines rising from craggy and rough land, like a well wrought mace resting upon a crushed enemy.

“My Ledan,” Ser Aden joined your side at the bow, much like the day before. “‘Tis time to disembark and meet the Princess and Prince.”

You nod, turning and adjusting the fabric of your overcoat. You swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding sharply once more. “Very well.”

As you reach the end of the–rather impressive–path from the beach to the castle, you spot two figures with shining white hair, clad in black, standing in wait. Beside the man are two boys, pale and dark haired, and behind the family are a small gaggle of servants and men in plate armor.

The man–Prince Daemon, you reminded yourself, looked you over with blatant curiosity. Quickly redirecting your glance, your eyes met Princess Rhaenyra, and immediately you bowed at the waist.

“Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon, it is an honor to meet your Graces.” You straightened, and met her eyes again. You did not miss Prince Daemon’s raised brows and glance to the two boys at his side.

“It is an honor for my family to be chosen for the heir of Irrasser’s emissary journey,” she smile, eyes crinkling. “I remember your mother’s last visit when I was a girl at King’s Landing. My own mother carried a strong fondness for her.” Her smile turned wistful. “But come, you must be tired after your long journey. Let us welcome you into Dragonstone.”

The gaggle of servants quickly stepped in to help your own people into the castle, and you and your guard fell into step with Princess Rhaenyra and her men.

“The Lady Dail still speaks fondly of the late Queen Aemma. She was dearly sorry to hear of her passing.”

The halls inside are dark, and the steps of your group loud.

“I’m glad to hear their friendship was a lasting one. Tell me, Ledan Dail, would you care to eat? We are set to dine within an hour, if you would care to join us after seeing your rooms.”

You share a glance with Ser Aden, who nods.

“That would be excellent, your Grace,” you nod your head in deference. “I’m sure a meal at a solid table where the drinks are not at risk for rolling to the floor at any moment will be a welcome change.”

Prince Daemon chuckles at this, and Princess Rhaenyra lets out a small laugh as well. “Excellent. Our men will show you and yours to your rooms.”

Your rooms are spacious, but the closed stone walls feel foreign in their darkness. What harsh architecture, you think to yourself. I do hope King’s Landing isn’t so heavy if I’m spending years of my life there.

Servants bring a small amount of your clothes to your room, and after thanking and dismissing them, your own dressing servant sets about the business of bringing out options to dine in.

“What do you think of this place, Arla?” You ask her from your seat on the bed.

She pauses and looks at you, “It is quite… stark in comparison to home. But no less regal.”

You hum in agreement. “Very. I couldn’t have put it better myself.” You rise from the bed and approach. “Now, what options have we got to dress in for this afternoon?”

Arla helps you dress in finer cloth than your sea clothes, a black tunic of green embroidered leaves of plants from your home isle. She fixes your hair, pinning a simple jewel at the back, and helping you don a pendant–you are taken aback at the sight of it.

“This is my mother’s jewel!” You touch the pendant and look back at Arla standing over your seat. “How did this come here?”

Arla smiled, smoothing the clasp at the back of your neck. “She insisted we bring it and present it to you when we made land.”

There is a lump in your throat again as you look down at the black jewel, three crossing lines of silver moving across the cabochon set in white gold. “She does love her surprises,” you whisper, eyes warm and sight blurring.

Lunch is a warm and friendly affair, the children of Princess Rhaenyra’s first marriage are present, her sons with Daemon too young to sit at the table and eat the food served. You learn that Daemon has an additional two daughters, not present as they live with their grandmother and grandfather at Driftmark.

“A truly beautiful place,” Rhaenyra offers. “I understand that you are to sail straight to King’s Landing once you leave us, but if you can on your return voyage home, I would stop to see it.”

Conversation, inevitably, turns to your unique nature as the topic of your home is brought up.

“So, my… Ledan Dail,” Daemon begins after a comfortable lull in conversation, setting down his goblet and fixing your gaze. “Forgive the inquiry, but I understand your mother is the ruler of your home?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“And you are the heir.”

You nod, gesturing acknowledgement and encouraging him to continue with your cutlery.

“But you are meant to be neither man nor woman. I understand that some forgo their sex in pursuit of the spiritual,” he leans forward in his seat. “But if you are the heir, meant to then produce more heirs, how can you do both? Forgo your sex and then still produce?” He does not break his gaze as he takes another bite from his fork in hand.

Of course, you think wryly. The men of Westeros are intrusive just as my Par has said. You look down at your plate, selecting your words carefully.

“We do not mutilate our sex in pursuit of leaving it, your Grace, as I have heard done in other lands and faiths,” you begin, meeting his eyes as you continue, “We are considered, in my homeland, beyond our bodies regardless of the shape they take at our birth. Yes, it is related to the pursuit of the spiritual,” you acknowledge his reference to priestly castrations and other equally violent practices in lands you have not seen. “But we are not barred, especially in my House, from fulfilling our… other duties. We simply take on another side in our existence, as asked by the Other and the Ancestors.”

He leans back in his seat again. “How fascinating.” He bows his head slightly. “Thank you for enlightening me so.”

You do not miss Rhaenyra’s hard glance at his profile as she sips from her goblet.

—

“Allow me to apologize for my husband’s… inquiries yesterday,” Rhaenyra offers you as you walk with her. It is gray outside, and so you stay within the shelter of the hallways. “He is… his curiosity gets the better of him.”

You bow your head. “It is to be expected, Princess. I am a foreign thing from a foreign land. A ruling, or even future ruling, Ledan has not set foot in Westeros since the time of Aegon the Conqueror’s children, and shared memory is short. I expect to be a novelty to most, if not all.”

She inclines her head. “Tell me, Ledan, you seem to be well of age,” she looks at you, you nod. “And yet you are unbetrothed and unmarried? Do all of your people wait so long?”

You let out a gentle laugh. “No, your grace. Not all. As heir, I am not to wed until after my emissary is complete. One new duty at a time, our traditions say.”

She seems surprised. “They send you off as the sole heir with no heirs of your own? What if something were to happen at sea, or an injury or illness struck you?”

“Then they simply mourn and find a new ruler. If I were to die at sea,” you pause. “Then I was no true deserved Ledan.”

You continue in silence for a moment, footsteps echoing against stone.

“How strange we must seem to one another,” Rhaenyra’s soft voice breaks the silence. “Our land with our strict societal roles…”

“And mine with what must seem like the flaunting disregard of them,” you joke.

You both laugh. “Indeed,” says the princess, a mysterious twinkle in her eye, and your heart warms at what feels like the beginning of a friendship started by your own mothers.

Despite your short time in her home, Rhaenyra grasps your hands in farewell when it is time for you to leave.

“Know that you are welcome to visit at any time during your emissary in King’s Landing,” she repeats her offer a last time.

“Thank you, your Grace. And thank you a thousand times over once more for sending a message to my mother for me.”

Rhaenyra had offered to send a trusted messenger along with your ship's return to home, as the sailors would be unlikely to do the same job with the proper dedication. After your arrival in King’s Landing, your ship was to rest, restock, and begin the return journey, stopping at Dragonstone once more to pick up her messenger. You and your guards and servants would remain behind at your new home in King’s Landing, to await the ship’s return in three years time for your final voyage home.

“Think nothing of it,” she squeezed your hand. “I know I would want to hear from my child after such an important first journey alone, and be assured of their safety.”

You part, saying your final farewells, and board your ship for the last days of travel.

“Well,” you say to Ser Aden and Arla later. “If that is how wonderful the Princess is, I feel that we are in for a lovely three years with the rest of her family,” you grin, and toast your two most trusted.

It is after three days that you hear the call from the rigging.

“King’s Landing in sight! Make ready for the port!”

#aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon reader insert

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youraverageaemondsimp · 3 months

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Sweet Nectar // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary: Aemond feels ever so slightly jealous when he watches his wife feed their babe, he'll have a taste for himself tonight.

WARNINGS: mdni, afab!reader, lactation kink, breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, reader is already a mom, breastfeeding, aemond craving the good old tiddy milk, tiddy sucking, teasing, biting, nipple play, aemond is so down bad for the milkers. + not proofread.

WC: 2,078

A/N: I suddenly got the urge to write this I'm not kidding 😭😭 // diviver credits to @cafekitsune

You coo softly while gently rocking back and forth as the small babe in your arms begins getting fussy in between your arms, you pat her gently and reassure the fussy babe, while caressing her cheek.

“Are you hungry, my dear?” You ask her as if she'll respond verbally, a small croak leaves her throat before she coos, stretching her tiny arms and placing it upon your breast as a way to answer your question. You chuckle at her action before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Shall I take her to the nursemaid, princess?” The maidservant allotted to you questions, putting your comfort as a first priority, you shake your head, “No need, I shall feed the babe myself.” You reject her politely, “Can you undo the lace?” You ask her, and she nods, her fingers making quick work of the lace that's holding the top of your gown together, you pull the material down — along with your chemise — just enough for one of your breasts to be exposed but cover everything else.

You hold the baby in a feeding position, and she immediately latches onto your nipple, suckling as she makes soft satisfied noises, as her hunger is being satiated. You giggle at her cuteness and watch as she closes her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

The door to your shared chamber opens and you lift your head up to see Aemond, carrying a bunch of scrolls and books in his hands, he sets them down on the nearby table before turning his attention to you. “My prince.” the maidservant greets and Aemond nods, “Prepare a bowl of water and a rag, after that, leave us alone.” He commands her and she bows, swiftly beginning to do what she's been told. After the maid leaves the bowl and leaves, Aemond quickly begins to retire for the night, undressing himself, usually, he would call in a manservant or you would help him, but he cannot call the manservant when you're breastfeeding, and neither can you help him because of that.

So he does it himself, after undoing his upper garment, he wears nothing but his white plain transparent tunic and breeches ; that are more suited for sleepwear, loose and thin. Aemond later washes his hands and forearms thoroughly, ridding them of any kind of dirt before making his way to you.

“How was your day, Husband?” You ask him, watching as he comes near and stands next to you, staring at you for a second before sitting down beside you. “Hm, t'was decent, what about you?” He asks you, his gaze dropping down to your chest. “It was good, I did not wish to partake in any social meetings today, but rather decided to spend it with her.” You look down at your child who is now sleeping. Aemond hums before he lays his head on your shoulder getting comfortable in your presence enough to express his desires.

“I want to have my wife tonight.” He mutters, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck as his gaze remains fixated on your chest while he rests his hand on your thigh, slowly drawing imaginary patterns on it, indicating what he wants. Your face heats up at his implications, “You will, husband, let me call the servant and have her taken to the nursery for tonight.” You reply to him, slowly pulling her away from your breast and covering yourself up.

“I will call for the servant.” He offers, hoping to help you out and you nod, he opens the chamber door stepping out and turning to the guard before asking the guard to fetch a servant, to which he immediately obeys and goes to get one. Aemond gets inside, making his way over to you before he takes your child from you and hands her over to the servant who had entered the room just then. “Take care of her for the night in the nursery, should there be any news that she was hurt in any way, I will cut off all of your limbs.” He threatens to which the poor servant just nods her head in fear assuring him that no harm would occur to your child, and then she takes her away.

The door closes and Aemond secures it tightly so it doesn't open upon impact. And all the while Aemond was talking to the servant, you had quickly gotten undressed and were now sitting in your chemise, putting the gown that had fallen to the floor away.

Aemond goes straight to the bed and sits on it and you watch as he removes his eyepatch, placing it on the table next to the bed before he turns his attention to you. He looked so ethereal when he was staring at you, his sapphire glinted as the fire from the chambers reflected off from it. “Come.” He commands and you slowly make your way over to him, now standing in front of him.

He looks up at you the tension thick in the air as his eye is filled with pure desire for you. he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest and pulling you, this causes you to stumble and lose your balance which he takes as an advantage to pull you onto the bed with him, flipping you over and getting on top.

His hair curtains around your face as he stares at you, his eye moving back and forth between your own, taking in your beauty. You raise your hand and gently tuck his hair into his ear before caressing his cheek, “You're so beautiful.” You hear him say and you smile, “I could say the same about you, husband.” You respond, He gives you a small smile before tilting his head slightly and connecting his lips to yours.

His lips felt soft against yours, you reciprocated and kissed him back. You felt the heat bloom in your core as he slowly grinds himself against your lower abdomen while kissing you. He slowly slides his hand against yours before intertwining your fingers with his. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, allowing him to deepen the kiss which resulted in him humming in satisfaction.

He pulled away shortly after, panting for air, his kisses then trailed down towards your neck, he pecked and nipped at the skin of your neck, leaving bite marks as a way to mark you as his, he untwined his hand from yours to pull down your chemise, causing your tits to spill out of their confines.

He presses kisses down to the valley in between your breasts before he stays there for a while, “You know, I'm jealous—” he begins, his other hand coming up and gently fondling with your breast, “— that our daughter gets to have these whenever she wishes, meanwhile I'd have to wait until night.” He whines slightly, his thumb pressing over your sensitive nipple making you gasp slightly.

He decides he doesn't want to waste any more time and immediately wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling and suckling on your breast like a babe, he swirls his tongue and flicks it up and down the bud, Aemond hums in satisfaction when he feels the taste of your milk in his mouth.

He squeezes and fondles your other breast, rolling your nipple between his index and thumb finger and pulling meanly on it. Your breathing becomes shorter and faster as you begin to get aroused by his ministrations which prompts you to rub your thighs together trying to ease the throbbing between your legs with some friction.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Aemomd, but he instead focuses his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions and drinking your milk selfishly for himself, his teeth grazes against your bud and you wince slightly at the burn it causes only for him to bite onto it, making you whine and squirm before he sucks on it again as a way to soothe the pain he just caused. He pulls away with a wet pop and you take notice of the milk that's dripping from the side of his mouth and down to his neck which was such a perverse sight, yet you couldn't help make you feel more aroused so you guided his head back to your breast again.

And so he took your breast in his mouth once again, drinking all of your milk up you moaned in pleasure as his tongue flicker up and down your bud. You whimpered because you are sensitive from earlier feeding.

You felt him humping against your thigh as he tried ease the tension between his very own legs, he let go of your breast, unable to hold himself back anymore, he sat straight up and began to slip down his pants and take off his tunic, you did the same with your chemise, discarding it and throwing it someone to the side of your chamber.

He spreads your legs wide and lines his cock against your entrance slowly pushing it in, this causes you to tremble in excitement as his cock stretches you deliciously, you let out a gasp once he is fully settled. He lifts your hips off the mattress, holding you by your thighs as he slowly begins to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, almost as if he's teasing himself until he begins to pick up on the momentum, thrusting his hips back and forth, he begins to pick up the speed quite steadily.

You grind your hips to match his rhythm as your body jolts up and down the bed, your tits bouncing as a result, the moans of his name leave your lips like holy chants, “Aemond— oh fuck– right there– Aemond—!” all the while his tip is continuously hitting that sweet spot of yours, he grips one of your breasts and stares at it intently, “They look so good when they're swollen and full of milk.” He refers to your tits, he squeezes your tit slightly and watches as droplets of milk begin oozing out. “Oh gods— you're still full– fuck.” He quickly shifts his weight, dropping your lower body down onto the mattress and leaning forward to take your breast in his mouth while he fucks you.

“Seven fucking hells–— I don't think I can ever get enough of this ; perhaps I should keep you pregnant constantly, Yes? So your tits are always full of milk, for the babe” he grunts, his peak nearing as he mouths at your nipple. “And for me— ” His thrusts become more frantic and desperate, “You would like it wouldn't you? I know you would. You'd love to be full of me— I can only imagine how gorgeous you'd look, constantly waddling around while carrying my child— Answer me.” He growls. “Yes yes yes yes! yesyes! Aemond! I'd love it so so so much please please—” You babble as you feel your peak nearing. “Good girl— fuck!” He moans as he peaks, and your babbling is cut short as you gasp because you too reach your high right after him, the pleasure explodes inside you like a volcano, slowly seeping and coursing through your veins, you feel hot, warm, cold, suffocated all at the same time due to the intensity of the pleasure.

Aemond slows down his thrusts before fully stopping and pulling out, he watches as your cunt pushes out his spend to which he tuts disappointedly at before scooping it up with his finger and pushing it all back in.

“Here I am; planning to keep you full of my child and yet you're here denying it? Such a disobedient wife.” He slaps your clit as a punishment making you whimper, “I apologise— t'wasnt my intention.” You reply, breathlessly and he hums.

He lays down next to you, catching his breath along with you. You watch and his hands rests on your lower abdomen. He grabs you by your hips and turns you around to face him before he grabs the sheets and throws them over you both before pulling you close, your breasts pressing up against him, and the milk transfering over to his chest, making it sticky.

“Aem— it's messy.” Your voice comes out slurred and Aemond simply hums, “Let it be.” He hugs you even tighter, and you sigh, before wrapping your arm around his waist, hugging him back and you both slowly drift off into sleep.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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lis-likes-fics · 7 months

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The Dragon's Wife

Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x bride!Reader Word Count: 4k words Kink: Breeding Warnings: NSFW, noncon, dark content, fingering, p in v, slight cum eating, first time, humiliation, crying kink, biting, multiple force orgasms, forced breeding, creampie, A/N: Happy Kinktober, everyone! I think this may be the darkest thing I've ever written, in terms of this is my first noncon. If you catch any warning I missed, please let me know. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this and the rest of my prompts for kinktober! Find the main masterlist here. Also A/N: I had to respost this shit twice but Tumblr fucking sucks and is hiding it. I hate this website sometimes... Enjoy!

The large doors of Daemon's bed chambers shut behind you with a damning thud. Still wrapped in your wedding gown, the events of the night were still very fresh in your mind.

You were angry, outraged by the dishonor done upon you. Like some broodmare, your father gave you away to the Targaryen prince in need of a new wife after the last had passed "suspiciously".

It was humiliating, to say the least. You had produced no heirs for your house and "talked too much for your own good". Your father jumped at the chance to have this brute of a prince tame you. Perhaps you would be a "respectable lady".

But you would give neither of them the satisfaction.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at the door all night?" Daemon's voice spoke behind you, exhausted by you already.

You sighed. "Better than looking at you, dear husband."

You could hear his footsteps against the hard floors as he stepped closer to you. "Someone ought to teach you some respect."

You turned to face him so he could see the way you rolled your eyes. "Apparently, that's meant to be your job…seeing that I am now wed to you."

He gave you a hard look, his gaze dark and dangerous as his eyes rake up and down your body. A long silence filled the space between you as you stared one another down.

"Come here," he commanded, his tone stern but his voice quiet. yet

"No."

He tilted his head and a wicked smile took over his face. Amusement lit up within his eyes as a new goal took over him. He took a couple more steps toward you, stalking closer like some predator to its prey as he sized you up.

"Perhaps I will teach you some respect."

A chill ran down your spine, but you refused to stand down as you glared at him. He stood before you, raising a hand to touch your cheek. You smacked it away. "Don't touch me."

He breathed a laugh, looking you up and down. You moved to take a step back, to put more space between the two of you as an unsettling feeling settled into your skin.

But before you could lift your foot, his hand was wrapping firmly around your throat and pulling you close to him. You gasped out of shock, bringing your hands up to his own to pry it off of you as you stared wide-eyed at him.

"Such strong will you've got," he said, sighing deeply. "I wonder how easy it would be to break it." Your breath was shallow as you clenched your jaw. He hummed, moving his hand up in a harsh trail to your jaw, where his thumb and fingers dug into your flesh and made you hiss from the pain. "Your job is to produce my heirs, little cat, nothing more. You will do as I say."

You huffed. "I am not a whore."

"No," he said. "But you are my wife now…and you will breed if I say you will."

"I will not."

He laughed, a loud one deep in his chest as he pulled you closer by your neck. You were trembling in his grasp, the stubbornness turning to fear as his eyes trailed your face and stopped at your lips.

"You don't have a choice."

He shoved you away, and you stumbled to the ground. You stood quickly, trying to put more distance between you. But you had nowhere to go. You watched as he slowly advanced.

He backed you against the large table in his chambers, the wood digging uncomfortably into your back. He trapped you, grabbing roughly at your waist and regarding you with a primal grin.

"Wait," you begged, leaning back as you grabbed the table for support. "Wait, please. I'm sorry." He pulled back slightly, looking over you as he took in this new sense of fright. You swallowed thickly, staring at him as you trembled, tears pricking at your eyes and threatening to spill. You sighed shakily. "Please don't."

You received no sympathy as a wolfish grin took his face. "Look at you," he teased, laughing again as his hand found your neck again. "Not as strong as I thought then."

His lips crashed down upon yours, a bruising kiss that had lips mashing with teeth, breaking skin and filling your mouth with the taste of blood. You tried to push him away, grabbing at his arms and peeling them off you only for him to grab you again in a rougher grip than before.

You whined against his lips, still trying and failing to push him away from you. He lifted your chin, his hot breath enveloping your neck as he bared his teeth, burying them in your throat and making you yelp.

You grabbed at his hand uselessly. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made your blood pump furiously beneath your skin. Desperate to remove him from you, you managed to shove him away with your foot. He stumbled backwards. You took no time to catch your breath as you turned to run. You didn't know where you were going, but you ran.

Daemon watched with an amused smirk, wiping his mouth and advancing toward you again. You hardly got far before his hand was hooking around your neck and pulling you right back against him, your back flush against his front as his hot mouth and breath lingered at your ear.

"I stand corrected," he purred, biting your earlobe.

You shuddered under his grasp. "Please," he watched a tear slip down your cheek. "Don't hurt me."

"Oh," he breathed, pressing his lips against the crook of your shoulder and savoring the way you closed your eyes and whined. "Where's the fun in that?"

He held your body against his own with a tight grasp around you, his arms wrapped around your body and over your arms as his hands roamed your figure hungrily.

It all happened so fast. And he was so uninterested before, you admit, you had become a little cocky with your words the more comfortable you became with your detest for him. You never expected anything like this to happen—although you probably should have.

His hands found the neckline of your dress, and with a monstrous tear, he ripped it down the middle until it pooled in rags around you. He removed each layer from you like some beast tearing the flesh from a quivering animal with its sharpened tooth.

And when you were bare, another rush of adrenaline filled your veins and built another fight in you, a fire that would soon be overcome by a larger, more furious one.

"Daemon, stop!" you shouted in false bravado, kicking your feet to get him away, only to feed his hunger for this enticing hunt you created.

His large hand groped your breast, and you clenched your eyes shut at the sensation of it. You were trapped, and you couldn't do anything about it as he walked you to the table and shoved you to lay on it. Your cheek pressed against the wood, and you could almost swear you felt splinters poking at your skin. But the wood was so smooth, you could have been imagining it.

He bent down, confining you once more as his lips and tongue and teeth clashed with the skin of the back of your neck, your shoulder, your back. He licked and sucked and bit until you were sure you'd be covered in bruises, the marks of his claim coloring your skin red and purple by morning.

"You taste magnificent, little cat," he purred before biting your earlobe once more. A cold tear ran down your cheek as you shuddered, and a dark chuckle slipped from his chest. "Such beautiful tears you've got. Like crystals."

You yelped as his hand smacked down on your ass, gripping the flesh immediately after in a vice grip that burned.

Your whole body jerked when you felt his fingers press between your thighs to feel your cunt, baring your teeth and biting back another whimper. "Oh, that's no good," he remorsed, acknowledging the lack of slickness between your thighs as his crude fingers continued to feel you. "We'll just have to fix that. You do not want to take this dry, I'll tell you that. Especially not when you're this tight. You've needed a good fucking, haven't you, little cat?"

You could hear the smirk on his voice, and it made your skin prickle, a chill running down your spine that soured and turned to fire in your belly when he shoved two fingers inside of you. You clenched around him and tried to hide your face away on the table.

"Daemon, please," you begged. "Please, please, please."

He thrust them deeper, exploring more of you as he listened to your stifled moans and cries. "I know, little thing. You don't want my fingers inside of you… you want my cock, don't you?"

You shivered as another cry shook you at that. He continued, "You do. I can see it. You want my hard cock inside of you, you need it." He shoved his fingers in deeper, adding a third that curled harshly inside you and allowed waves of arousal to coat his fingers. "You need my thick cock in your tight little cunt to fill you with my dragonborn sons and daughters."

He kept thrusting, his pace picking up faster and harder as he set a cruel rhythm. You couldn't help clenching around him, opposing the invasion as the searing pleasure tore through your body.

"You were so confident," he said, his voice suddenly right next to your ear, "until I got my hands on you. You were just begging for someone to put you in your place."

You gripped the edge of the table, wanting nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear, let the Stranger take you away from this cruel world and deliver you to sleep.

"Look at you," he snickered, pulling his hand from you with a sickening squelch. "Wetting my hands like a common whore. Perhaps you needed this more than I realized."

Your legs trembled, and you wrapped your arms around your head to cover your face, to hide away from him. You startled when you felt his hand reach out and comb through your hair, starting from the beginning of your scalp and working his way back until he suddenly gripped a handful of your hair at the base and pulled. He made you look at him, you closed your eyes and whimpered at the pain.

"Open your eyes," he said calmly, staring at your face as you refused. His grip in your hair tightened as his voice lowered to a dangerous register as he nearly growled. "Open your eyes, little cat."

You followed his orders, afraid of the consequences otherwise. He watched another tear join the rest of them streaked along your cheeks, your eyes wet and pathetic as he fed off your misery. "Well, you needn't worry," he whispered, faux sympathy poisoning his tone. "I'll fuck you like you need to be fucked."

He yanked at your hair again, pulling you up to stand and ignoring the way you cried at the pain. He led you to the bed, letting you go with a small shove so you stood in front of it. He gestured to the bed. "On your knees."

You stood frozen, covering your body as you hung your head. You were shaking. He didn't care.

"On your knees."

You bit your trembling lip, moving slowly as you set your knee on the edge of the bed and slowly moving forward until you were sitting as he told you: on your knees, humiliated and cold.

He pressed his hand to your back, and the rest of his body followed to hold you as he harshly kissed the back of your shoulder again, more teeth than lips. Then he pushed you forward so you held yourself on your hands.

"Look at you," he remarked again, another chuckle echoing in his chest. "I shall make a bride of you yet."

You listened to him strip, taking his sweet time to remove every piece of clothing he had from his body and let it drop to the floor like sacks. You waited, hating the suspense. And you flinched when his hand found your dripping cunt, slipping through your lips and leaving just as quick.

There was a quite suckling sound, and then he spoke again. "Mm, you should taste yourself. Such sweet nectar."

His fingers prodded at your lips, you sealed them closed as you tried to move your face away, but he wasn't having it. He smeared your slickness all over your lips and down your chin and cupped your jaw with his cruel fingers. "Taste it."

You let out a choked sob as you slowly opened your mouth. His fingers invaded your mouth the same way they did your pussy, thrusting harshly in and out between your lips as you tasted yourself on them. You breathed heavily around his fingers as he pushed down on your tongue, spread them apart to make your tongue lick between them, adamant on making you lick every drop of your arousal off of his hand.

He finally removed his hand, and you could breathe again as you hung your head and gasped. You felt your blood run cold at the sound of wet skin on skin, a steady shlick making you clench, rejecting what you knew was coming, what you knew you couldn't fight.

You expected him to say something, to whisper in your ear to make you shiver, to taunt you as he fed off your humiliation and loathing.

Without warning, he shoved his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt in one deep thrust. It was much worse than if he had warned you beforehand. You'd found safety in his predictability, his need to tease you gave warning to what he intended to do when he intended to do it. He'd taken even that from you.

He groaned as he settled deeply within you. "Ondoso se gods…" he muttered under his breath, taking your hips and pulling you back as he ground inside of you. "Now I know why you were so eager," he breathed. "This is a virgin's cunt."

You gripped the sheets of the bed and clenched, wanting to force him out but unable to. He was bigger than you, faster than you, stronger than you. He was carved by war, bled and seasoned by it. If you thought there was a chance you won this fight, you were dumber than he thought.

He pulled out of you, an agonizingly slow drag that emptied you out until he suddenly thrust back in with a harsh thrust. The pleasure burned. As his patience began to wear thin, he was rid of all his slow, tempered thrust and resolved to piston inside of you like a hungry beast.

His hips snapped into your ass with every thrust, in and out was his fast rhythm that split you apart on his cock. You gripped the sheets and squeezed his cock and cried as the ecstasy of his intrusion tore you apart.

You whimpered and moaned, unable to help the way your sobs left you as he grunted and groaned about how good he must be making you feel.

His hand snaked around your waist and between your thighs to find your clit, and he pressed down harshly as he moved to make you cum. The pleasure spasmed when he touched you and you hated it.

His relentless thrusts ached as he built you up. When you came, your whole body shattered and you cried out, your arms giving out as you fell forward into the bed and muffled your sob. Your thighs shook and it took far too long for the shocks of pleasure to simmer. You hated yourself for letting it feel so good.

A hand cracked down on your ass once more as he pulled you close again by the waist. "You fucking loved that, I could tell," he breathed. "You clenched around me so tight. Even now your cunt is sucking me in."

You pulled weakly at the bedsheets. "Daemon, please…"

"So sweet… begging for me like some cock-drunk whore," he smiled. "Oh, my little cat… I'm going to fuck my cum so deep inside of you, you'll feel me dripping out of you for days."

He pulled out of you, and you let out a breath. In the same breath, he flipped you onto your back and spread your legs wide with his calloused hands. You fought to close them, but to no avail—not to your surprise.

He spread you open and sunk into you once more, grasping your jaw with his hand shaped into claws as he made you look at him. He thrust into you, deep and fast, his breath almost like a groan in his chest. "Look at me," he ordered. You obeyed, albeit hesitantly, on the first command.

"Such obedience," he praised. "You love it when I fuck you like this? When I force open your legs and take what is mine?" You wanted to shake your head and throw your hands and shove him off, but you were trapped and already broken in enough. His free hand grabbed at your thigh and clawed into your flesh, tearing you apart like he was doing to you now.

"Of course, you do. I know you do," he continued. His hips continued to snap into yours, shoving deeper and rougher into you in a way that made it hard to contain moans that came from the sick pleasure curling within you, burning in your belly and fueling the tears in your eyes. But you were quieter than before, your sobs realizing they were getting you nowhere and accepting that this would be your life now. You could do nothing but lay there and take it as he fucked you, taking his pleasure from you like he would the spoils of war.

And he lasted too long. He held you down and kissed and bit and sucked and clawed at your flesh. He taunted and teased you, made you cum at least twice more with his insistent fingers as the pleasure seared in your belly like a corrosive flame ruining you from the inside out. You winced and whimpered and could do no more.

You didn't know how long you were there. It felt like forever, his relentless thrusts becoming numb to your sore body as you let him use you.

He sat up, pulling you into his lap as he fucked you in a newer, deeper angle. "I'm going to breed you now," he smirked, his strong hands keeping you close as he impaled you on his cock with a new determination. His white hair had fallen messily in his eyes by now, his lips pink and his eyes blown wide with lust.

"Would you like that? Would you like me to plant my seed in your quivering little cunt and make you an heir?" You stared up at him, your eyes tired as you watched him taunt you. Apparently, the question had not been rhetorical as his hand grips your jaw again and sets your head straight. "Answer me, little cat."

A war went off in your mind. If you said no, he'd likely to subject you to more horror, drag out the moment longer than he needed just to make you endure this torture a little while longer. If you came again, the shame would be so thick and so deep, you likely would not survive it.

But if you agreed to him, you would be admitting defeat. You would officially be his little plaything for him to use whenever he felt a little too pent up one moment or bored the next.

But another moment of this would bring more emotional turmoil than you have the heart for right now…

"Well?" he wondered, grinding his hips deep within you as he continued to claw your face, barely holding on enough as his head bowed with his thrusts. You whispered, but he just tilted his head to listen closer to your barely audible voice. "What?"

"Yes…" you whispered.

"Yes, what? What would you like, little cat?" he smiled wide, triumphant in his ability to break you so easily.

You swallowed thickly, your saliva like syrup at the embarrassment. "Yes, Prince Daemon… I want," a new, tiny sob choked out of you as the words stuck in your throat, "I want you to…to breed me."

The pride shone in his gaze like the sun, harsh and bright. "That's a very good girl, you are. I'm so very proud of you," he said as he kissed you roughly again. His hips began to snap harder into your once more, and you felt the unsteadiness of the rhythm, the desperation of the chase for his release hot in your belly.

And when he came, he pulled you down by his hips and pushed so deeply inside of you, it hurt. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, reaching his peak with a roar as he spilled his hot, fiery cum inside of your cunt and fucked it in to stay. You mewled and grabbed uncomfortably at his arms as you lay through the whole ordeal, hating his grabby hands and his thick, pulsing cock and his depraved sounds above you. The warmth filled you like tar.

He cursed under his breath in a language foreign to you. After grinding his hips for longer than he needed, he finally pulled out of you and put an end to your misery. You sighed in relief, laying back as he sat up and removed his heavy weight from your body.

He stared down at you, completely flustered and spent but well enough to tease some more. "Look at you," he shook his head. "Pathetic whore hungry for my cock."

You didn't look at him, turning your head to the side and laying there as he kept your legs open with his body between yours. He chuckled deep in his throat and smacked your side, earning little more than a near silent yelp.

You flinched when his hand found your cunt again, this time filled and smeared with both your cum and his. His long middle finger shoved inside of you and then back inside. With no warning, he placed his hand at your mouth. Another fight kicked through your veins, though noticeably less fueled than the last.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Open your mouth and see how well we taste together, little cat. If you don't, I have other things I can do with that little mouth of yours."

His threat was clear as day as you obeyed. Cracking your mouth open, he smeared your mixed release over your lips again and finally delved into your mouth to make you lick every single drop from his fingers. It was salty and sweet, and you hated it.

"Such a good, pathetic little girl, you are." He pulled his fingers from your mouth and sighed longingly. "Was that so hard?"

He shoved you off his lap, discarding you like trash as he stood to tidy himself once more. And once he finished, he blew out the remaining candles in the room and spared you not a single glance and not a single word more. He rolled over on the bed beside you and eased himself to sleep.

You lay there, staring at the sealing as the soreness in your limbs spread deeper and deeper until it reached your very soul. A heaviness took you, weighed down your heart until you were naught but a body on a bed next to a dark prince. A numbness ate away at your toes, at your fingertips, until the even numbness disappeared and was replaced by a terrible grief when the thoughts of the night flashed behind your eyes like a terrible dream.

And you began to sob. Softly, as not to wake Daemon and invoke him into another frenzy, you cried and hated the way it did not cleanse your soul. You belonged to him, his little wife, his little cat to prey on. You were just a dragon's whore now. Nothing more, nothing less.

Tag yourself here or send me a message!

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #dark content #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #dead dove do not eat

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floatyflowers · 7 months

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i wondered are you take requests because I see good Yandere Male Alicent Hightower headcanon

Dark Male! Alicent Hightower x Reader

Otto manipulated Viserys into marrying you to his son, Aelyx.

After all, you are not the heiress to the throne, so Viserys didn't mind you marrying his hand's son.

And you found the Hightower boy handsome and kind, as he comforted you when your mother died.

And also you preferred to marry a boy one year older than you then a man twice your age.

Rhaenyra clearly doesn't like the idea of you marrying a Hightower, thinking that Aelyx is going to use you.

You married young, and had four children together, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron.

Clearly, when your sister's children were born with none Velaryon and Targaryen features, his hatred grew towards her.

Aelyx has forbidden you to speak to her, not wanting his sweet and kind wife, you, to interact with your 'unfaithful' sister.

The way your father treats you, also made Aelyx hate him.

The King only pays attention to Rhaenyra and her children, clearly favoring her over you.

Though you don't mind, Aelyx finds it cruel.

Your husband loves all his children equally...maybe he favors Aemond and is very harsh on Aegon, but he still loves them.

After all, they are from you, a woman he loves so much.

On the other hand, there's no question about your love for your kin, especially Aegon who is a mama's boy.

The moment Aelyx saw his second son missing an eye and you are crying while hugging Aemond.

He didn't hesitate to take the Targaryen ancestral dagger and try to poke out Luke's eye with it before Rhaenyra stops him.

At that moment, you finally see the true personality of your husband.

After Rhaenyra leaves to Dragonstone with Daemon.

Aelyx takes over the court and changes everything along with the help of Otto.

Even if you are against the changes.

Especially when Aelyx decided to claim Aegon as the true king after Visery's death, believing his eldest son deserves the throne more than Rhaenyra and her bastard children.

When you tried to stop him, he locked you up in your shared quarters during the coronation and returns back after Aegon is announced as King.

"What have you done? You have endangered our family!"

Aelyx holds you as you cry in his arms.

"I only did what was right to protect our family, dear wife"

#alicent hightower #yandere house of the dragon #alicent x reader #genderbend #reader insert #aegon targaryen ii

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theghooligan · 28 days

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aemond: my uncle is a challenge i welcome, if he dares face me—

daemon:

#house of the dragon #look i love show aemond #but i am team black (DUH)#but that was fucking laughable 😂😂#he really thinks he’s hard as shit huh #*insert we gonna step outside step outside for what we gonna fight meme*#daemon really said ‘im about to beat this bitch UP’#daemon plotting evilly in the corner doing the pyramid of evil contemplation with his hands #meanwhile aemond is secretly fangirling over his uncle 😍#hotd #hotd meme #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #daemon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond x reader #daemon x rhaenyra #aegon ii x reader

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zaldritzosrose · 18 days

Text

Make Me Want To Sin (Aegon x Betrothed!Reader)

Summary: He'd heard it so often, it must be true. "It's still innocent if our clothes stay on". And Aegon has every intention of living by that, especially with a betrothed as beautiful as you.

(Thank you to @lynnbeth5172 for sending me the most Aegon coded tweet ever!)

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, dry humping, fingering, mentions of loss of virginity, innuendo, profanity, Aegon being himself.

Words: 1743

No beta because I like living on the edge!

Aegon counted himself lucky. Not only had his betrothed been chosen for him, but marriage had also never been something he’d sought out himself. But his mother had chosen someone beautiful. One of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, he’d wager, and Aegon had see a lot of women.

You were a lady of a Great House, as expected. His marriage was never going to be one of love and romance, Aegon knew that. He was a prince after all. Though romance wasn’t really his forte, he had to admit it.

Pleasure. That’s where his expertise lay, in his own opinion. And you were sweet and chaste. A follower of the Faith, nothing more could be expected from someone chosen for him by his mother. Of course, she’d want someone like that.

Aegon, however, found every excuse to tease and tempt you.

“Come now, my dear, I have heard it said time and time again,” Aegon cooed, his fingers linking with yours as you walked the gardens, “As long as we remain clothed, it is all innocent.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d tried this. Stolen kisses in secluded hallways were one thing, but you’d had it ingrained into you that you needed to remain pure for your wedding. Meaning, of course, no intimacy. But Aegon was determined. He knew, from the way you’d sigh his name whenever he’d touch you a little more intimately or kiss you a little harder, that you wished for it as much as he did.

But you were a far less sinful person than he was.

“And I have told you, it is tradition for a betrothed couple to wait until their wedding night.” You answered, not hiding the roll of your eyes.

Four months you had been betrothed and Aegon was insatiable. But never forceful. Something that had surprised you, based on the stories you’d heard. And maybe, that was what slowly broke your resolve. Not that he knew it was breaking.

Two week until your wedding, that was all that remained. But Aegon seemed even more impatient. You took it as a compliment, of course. Or at least, he would tell you that you should. That he was so hopelessly attracted to you that he couldn’t wait a moment longer to have you.

Each compliment, each lingering touch, each flirtatious whisper in your ear at dinner, was breaking down your wall more and more. And Aegon knew it.

When you didn’t chastise him for the way his hand now rested on your silk covered thigh at dinner, he knew he was getting closer to his goal. He wanted you to want him as he did you.

His fingers squeezed at your flesh ever so slightly, watching as the pink flush crept up your chest and higher to your cheeks. But you didn’t ask him to stop, as you usually did. Aegon took a little confidence in that, slowly drifting his hand higher until he stopped short of the apex of your thighs. Inches from where he wanted to be the most.

“Aegon…” you warned, and he simply flashed you that smile you had grown to love.

His hand remained where it was for the rest of the dinner, but he knew he could get a little further next time.

It was a week until your wedding now and your willpower was almost at its end. It seemed like now, everything Aegon did in your presence was arousing. And he could see it. How your eyes would linger on his hands when they held his wine cup, or on his lips when he spoke. He had you, almost.

Aegon was sat in the library with Aemond, though the younger prince was the only one reading. Aegon came here because you enjoyed it and spending time with you was what he enjoyed. The corner you had chosen was quiet and as Aemond wandered away in search of something else to read, Aegon saw his opportunity.

With a gentle pull, he tugged you from your chair to his lap, revelling in the small squeak of surprise you let out.

“Aemond could return any moment...” you whispered, trying desperately to ignore Aegon’s hand on your shin, trailing a path beneath the fabric of your gown.

Aegon only hummed in response. He couldn’t care less if Aemond returned, his only focus was you. Knowing he wouldn’t let you go anytime soon, you tried to return to your book. But the words were nonsense as Aegon’s hand dipped between your thighs, toying with the fabric of your smallclothes.

“Aegon, here? Really?” you asked, your voice cracking slightly as his fingertips dipped beneath the undergarment.

Again, you only got a hummed response, as Aegon’s lips found the sliver of exposed skin at your shoulder. As if on instinct, your head tilted, giving him more access to your body. You could feel him beneath you, the hard length of him pressing against your backside. You knew you shouldn’t, but it was getting more of a challenge to resist.

“Do I make you want to sin, my lady?” Aegon whispered, his voice taking on the low tone that always had you shivering.

His words sent a rush of heat down your spine, pooling between your legs. And you knew he could feel it, his fingers slipping your smallclothes aside.

“If our clothes stay on, it is innocent, that is what you said?” you asked, repeating the words he’d said time and time again.

Aegon grinned into your neck. He had you and the time he’d waited now was worth it.

“Yes, my sweet girl, that is how it works.” His voice was soft in your ear, but his words had you whimpering, combined with the slow movements of his fingers against your pearl.

Aegon wanted to feel you, just a little something to sate him before your wedding night. Something to tempt you, prepare you for what was to come.

His hand delved deeper, a single digit slipping between your folds now. The groan he let out as your heat enveloped his finger was near sinful. He’d pictured this, time and time again alone in his room. But nothing would compare to actually feeling you. The slick heat of your arousal that was already dripping onto his skin. His own cock pulsed against your backside, and he couldn’t help but grind his hips up into you. He needed more.

“Oh…Aegon..” your voice was like music to his ears. The library was quiet at this time, but he captured your lips and swallowed your moans. Just in case. He couldn’t afford to be caught now.

He sped up, slipping another finger inside and rolling his thumb against your pearl. Your head falling to his shoulder, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt a tight knot in your stomach. Aegon could feel it, you were so very close, and he wanted to see you come apart for him.

And it didn’t take long. He curled his fingers inside you, chewing on his lip as he felt your muscles clench and hold him inside. And only seconds later, the most delicious moan of his name fell from your lips, thighs closing around his wrist as you peaked.

“That’s it. You are so very beautiful when you come, my lady…” Aegon purred, slowing his movements until he stopped.

Your head rested against his shoulder, your breath coming out as pants as you came down from your high. You’d never felt anything quite like it, but the way Aegon’s hand continued to squeeze at your body, you knew he wasn’t done with you.

With practised moves, he maneuvered you to straddle him, bunching your gown just high enough to expose the flesh of your thighs. The new position sent a shot of pleasure up your spine and you instinctively rolled your hips against him.

“You are insatiable, my prince,” you mused, Aegon’s hands now rested on your waist, urging you to move again.

Aegon only chuckled, the feel of your body against his knocking all thoughts from his head. This was what he’d imagined, what he’d wanted. And now he had it, he didn’t know where to begin. Something about the way you looked at him now, chest still heaving ever so slightly. Skin flushed from your peak. You had never looked more beautiful.

“Still innocent…” he mumbled, bucking his hips up against you as he helped you roll your hips.

His lips found yours, hands slipping from your waist to your backside. You could tell by the way he held you tight, kiss messy and rough, that he was close to his own end. And you’d be damned if you didn’t please him as he had you.

You braced yourself against the back of the armchair, trying to keep your movements as fluid as possible. And the groans that left Aegon’s lips told you were doing something right. The feel of his cock pulsing and twitching under his breeches felt better than you could ever imagined. It wasn’t long before his grip became bruising, slamming his hips up into you, chasing the friction despite the clothing between you.

His face glistened a little from the exertion, hair sticking to his skin. Your lips found his jaw, as they had many times when your past kisses had got heated. But this time was different. Your teeth nipped his skin as the rut of his hips hit your core in just the right rhythm to have you peaking again.

“Yes, fuck…” Aegon was lost to pleasure now and feeling you peak again was enough to have him following with his own. With the last few ruts of his hips, his head fell back against the chair and his eyes closed.

Both of you sat quietly. You’d expected to feel ashamed, like you’d done something you shouldn’t have. And yet looking at your betrothed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from your kisses, you felt both satisfied and proud.

The silence was only broken when Aegon chuckled, a deep sound that had your head tilting in confusion.

“I knew I would tempt you,” he smiled, pulling you down for any other kiss.

You smiled into it, relishing the slight hiss he gave when your hips pushed down against his. Your thoughts wandering to exactly how your upcoming wedding night would be.

“You were right,” you whispered, lips brushing against his.

“You do make me want to sin.”

Taglist: @valeskafics @nyrasproblm @alexagirlie @targaryen-dynasty

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon ii fanfic #reader insert #house of the dragon #aegon ii smut #aegon targaryen smut #tom glynn carney

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ladythornofrivia · 2 months

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Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part One)

word count: 2,733

author’s note: i’m sorry that i didn’t post much stories, as I’ve been reblogging and changing themes in my profile. i’m trying my best, but I’ll make up for it.

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).

There hasn’t been a day that you never left your homeland. All in prosperity. All in solitude, all in mindful thoughts that even the castle walls were unable to perceive. Oldtown is known for the oldest kingdom within Westeros.

We light the way, those are the words from House Hightower, a tall, silver tower with a green light of flames atop. Members of the Hightower court are known to be proud and resilience. Perhaps too greedy to your taste. Less fickle to their needs, their desires, their secrets, their ambition.

All minds think alike, as they said. But your mind is unalike from theirs.

There hasn’t been a single day where your life change—steady as it goes. But when your older sister, Alicent, sent a letter to you from a raven fled from miles, you instantly ripped the seal and unveiled her letters, written in neat cursive. In the days where you can recall that Alicent taught you to read and write, before accompanying your father, Otto Hightower, to aid the ailing king and his throne.

In King’s Landing, where Aegon has set and had trees felled after his conquest in Westeros. The stories of dragonlords and ladies has caught you into a slighted dot of peculiarity. But with your father, you knew that your father wanted more than being as the Hand of the King. Like any folk in Oldtown, he’s all in the same cloak of mind and heart as the rest. The only difference is he has resided in King’s Landing with the Targaryens, warming the throne with Alicent’s political stead.

With you, as Alicent’s half-sister, one thing you adored about her is her resilience, no matter how the power struggle may have been, Alicent held her head high, it inspired you to do the same cause, not for the greater good, but for you to steady your heart. With Alicent’s brown eyes, anyone would be easily swayed at her beauty. With your eyes like glowing water, the subjects were to assume that you’re either a sea creature in the ocean, or have been reincarnated as a woman. Common folks assumed that you’re a goddess sent by Maiden herself. But others theorized you’re born in the sacred pond within the forest.

Despite the nonsensical rumors, you carried out your duties dulled within life, but with your brother, Gwayne Hightower, entered in your chambers without a warning.

“Sister!”

“Good heavens, you gave me a fright,” you screeched, hand clutching over your chest.

“A word from the raven,” he resumed, pulling out the letter. “It’s from our dear sister.”

She hasn’t written you a letter for months. Understanding of her high authoritative position, thankfully enough you aren’t the queen. You couldn’t bear to think about gifting children into the world from your maidenhood.

“Alicent!” Departing from the chair, you snatched the letter from Gwayne’s hand and ripped the letter open, straightening the scrolled paper.

My dearest sister,

I regret to inform you that I cannot visit in the Oldtown due to personal circumstances that our father has been trifled with the matters in King’s Landing. As queen, I must fully prioritize my duties and smite the inconsiderate undutiful thought of others. My dear husband, King Viserys, has been unwell as of late, growing slower day by day, but still the same man who loves his histories and shed upon endless favoritism on his daughter and her plain-featured sons, as well his miniatures he rarely finished. As of this moment, we are preparing the feast for the upcoming celebration. Misery and dread and politics has been my company, and I’d be happy if you come to King’s Landing and stay here for more than a month. I also send Gwayne and his men to escort you back. I hope you still have the new dresses and jewels the seamstress sorted to your taste; I always know that you hated attire that itched your flesh or suffocating. Words cannot expressed about how I miss the sweetness of your smile and laughter. We shall meet soon.

Signed,

Alicent Hightower

Jumping with joy, your body lunged at Gwayne, locking him into a tight hug, slightly hopping in place with a big grin stretched onto your lips.

“Have my things ready, brother,” you said, hasting, forgetting about the silks and fabrics in your hands.

“But you need more time. You’ll stay in King’s Landing as our queenly sister instructed.”

“Send the maids, then. I can’t do this alone.”

“You mustn’t make haste!” Gwayne shouted as you ran off, never minding the silks on the ground only for him to pick up.

“The sooner the better,” you shouted back.

~~~

The trailed ship took no more than three days to reach King’s Landing. Alicent hasn’t mentioned anything particular to the celebration. But you have come to acknowledge that Alicent lessened the details.

By the time the ships rested at the shore, you rushed down to the clear path and greeted your father, who was rather cold and emotionless. Nevertheless, you gave the courtesy of shallow inclination of your neck bent down. Though your heart shattered at the motionless greeting; a chilled wind spiraled on your thickened sleeves.

“Father,” you said, grinning ear to ear.

“Queen Alicent awaits,” is all he said, then left without abiding on you.

“But—”

“Ser Gwayne, escort this lady in the Red Keep,” he wasn’t saying it with care.

This lady.

Months without communication and souvenirs, you’d ought it’ll soften your father’s resolve regarding onto the estrangement.

Another clash of heartbreak has struck again. But it comes as no surprise.

Both of you hadn’t spoke since of his second wife—your mother’s—passing.

As numb as it may be, the small pang in your heart resolved again as Gwayne Hightower escorted you to the high steeps close, reaching the royal grounds of Red Keep.

~~~

Infiltrating from climbing the steps until reaching the indoors, the green queen appeared.

Your sister.

“Alicent,” you rushed and clung her to embrace.

“Sister, how good of you to come,” Alicent replied.

The halls greeted you in cold and dreaded air clinging onto your sleeves, goosebumps flooded over your skin, the thick air of candles and torches has impaled your stomach. You didn’t like this feeling. These halls, darkened in heralds of statues and stars that your pupils recognizant.

Faith of the Seven.

Hightowers held their religion in the highest regard, while you, don’t cherish the ideologies of the religion, filled with fanaticism and hypocrisy. Even Targaryens have the queerest customs, of marrying brother to sister, relative to relative since Aegon I. It dire consequences of genetics and birth, and the fruition of a child birth into an unshakable world of politics and desires. According to the Citadel, in secret debate, those who are born of incest are nothing but sort of monsters lurking, a defect to a bloodline.

The Targaryens disagree—couldn’t care less, of course. As you often heard of keeping the bloodline pure.

Bloodline pure. People speculated that the Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Thus their words ‘Fire and Blood’ is in order. In Valyria, their source is magic and dragons, long before volcanic eruptions swept the lands and dragons into ashes. The last Targaryens resided in Westeros, and thus, their last kind is dwindling, hence creating pure bloodline. As theatrically hysterical as it is, you trudged along the halls.

“It has been so long since I saw you last,” Alicent began.

“It has, but we rarely sent letters as of late.”

“Being a queen is no simple task. Our father’s ambition has gotten stronger.”

“Your father,” you said bitterly.

“My dear sister,” Alicent resumed, her voice soothed. “Father is doing his best to stabilize the realm.”

“Cold, cruel and calculated,” you answered. “Your strength and dutiful as queen is one of the things I admire about you. But, sister, it feels as if my existence is no longer needed. I feel as if I’m useless. My mother received no love from your father.”

The doe-eyed look in Alicent’s eyes protruding. “Sister, I—“”

“Half-sisters,” you reminded. “Everyone thought I was some sort of creature that shouldn’t belong in the realm. I’m no fool; I could hear everyone whisper, even closed doors.”

“Creature or not, you’re still a Hightower. We share the same blood. Nothing will ever change between you and I.”

“But your father will never accept me,” you replied.

Alicent clasped her hands onto yours. “The next time we see each other, I’ll be visiting the Oldtown.”

“You said that the last time on our previous letters,” you chimed. “Let him stabilize the realm alone.”

“That is why you’re here. I needed time apart from the council and subjects,” Alicent reasoned. “Men are often ambitious with their politics and trifling over gold than their wives.”

“It appears so,” you agreed, huffing.

Ironically, Alicent served men, and still is. First Jahaerys, then Otto, then Viserys. Though you wouldn’t so recklessly give your personal opinion away to Alicent.

“We have yet to explore the grounds. We must rest at the gardens. I know how much you love staying in the gardens.”

Your cheeky smile was showing. “I do.”

Alicent squeezed your hand. “Let us be off. It’s considered bad luck if we let our food grow cold.”

“Never knew that it involves bad luck.”

“I’ve been told.”

“By who?”

Not once, Alicent answered.

~~~

“Make yourself comfortable,” Alicent said, indicating the spare chair, and watched you sat with ease, eyeing the lavish outdoors where the Weirwood stood as main view.

“Quite nice out,” you complimented.

This was Alicent meant when she said gardens.

“I chose this spot for a reason,” Alicent said as the servants settled the meal over the table—bowed and left. And the last servant entered, placing a stacked candied almonds and candied plums on a gold platter, alongside of Dornish wine.

Alicent watched your eyes lit up.

“I took the liberty of having the kitchen staff ready for your sweet-tooth,” she clarified.

“You know me well, sister.” You grinned.

“My lady,” a soothing masculine voice said behind you.

“Ser Criston,” Alicent addressed, glancing. “I’m occupied as of this moment.”

“There has been urgent matters regarding to your son.”

Puzzled, Alicent spoke with, “Which son?”

Appalled, your eyes darted at her. On the other hand, you never retain information from Alicent.

“Aegon,” Criston answered, eyes turning away. “I’m afraid his excursions have rather been…” Then his dark brown eyes flicked to yours, his mouth opened, choosing his words carefully.

“We’ll speak no more of it,” Alicent pleaded. “I’m under the liberty of entertaining my sister at the moment. Do ignore Aegon’s excursions for now.”

Somewhere in between the lines, you knew Alicent’s calm demeanor struck hard when the excursions take place, wrath kept within, as you read between Alicent’s lines furrowed on her forehead. Ser Criston glimpsed at you and bowed before withdrawing from the outdoors.

“My apologies,” Alicent said to you in a dreaded voice. “The excursions in the daylight hour upon King’s Landing hasn’t ended.”

“I never knew you had a son,” you said, munching on the candied almonds.

Alicent swallowed the contents of the food. “I mentioned it once before in the letter. That I was having a babe in my belly.”

You pondered for a moment. It was back when Alicent married Viserys and carried a child in her.

“But you never mentioned that it’s a son,” you commented.

“But I’m sure you heard Aegon’s name the moment he arrived into the world.”

Your teeth clenched. “I can assure you I did.” The Oldtown spoke of Aegon in high regards, but as you grew older, you never hear much of Aegon’s doings, hoping to meet your nephew, you waited, but as usual, you sister never once sent letters to offer you an invite.

“Things have been hectic for the past years, and I doubt that’ll cease. With the Iron Throne empty and with all that it stands, we’re keeping the place intact with politics and debate,” Alicent reasoned.

You stayed in silence.

“If you would like,” Alicent continued, “I would be happy to take you to the gallery. The Red Keep has been nothing but a dread. I shall escort you and give you a tour to the Red Keep unless you want someone else to—”

“No, I’d be thrilled if you were to accompany me,” you paused, then said, “sister.”

Alicent gently beamed at that.

~~~

When you and Alicent both went inside the Red Keep, the royal subjects and guards bowed before the green queen as their eyes lingered onto yours, and an incoherent of whispers were passed to your ears.

The sister of the green queen.

And as you ascended the staircases, from there, you saw the shaded eyes of violet and curled hair—a young girl, a few years younger than you.

“Mother, have you seen my—” The girl’s youthful stare darted to yours, backing away gradually.

“This is my sister, (y/n), your aunt,” Alicent introduced. “This is Princess Helaena, my daughter,” Alicent said to you.

“A pleasure.” As you made an inclination to your neck, smiling to the princess as you hadn’t realized that the others accompanied none other by two young men behind Helaena, both with Targaryen features.

Your heart stopped—leapt with warmth—when you first glanced at the tall prince with gold, lithe hair as his other eye covered with eyepatch.

“These are my other sons…” Alicent said, searching for the third son with a slight frown on her features. “Where is Aegon?”

“Drunk as usual,” Daeron rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“That blasted fool…” Alicent hissed, then smiled merrily in a way to appease herself. “I hope you and Lady (y/n) would get along.”

“Yes, I remember now! You’re that boy—that cupbearer in the council!” you said to Daeron.

Daeron beamed. “I am proud to serve my mother’s family in Oldtown. Ashamed we never met circumstances in the Reach, yet here we are!” he chuckled. “For my dear father’s name day contained in private ceremony, I’m glad you came.”

You sensed the sarcasm in the word “father”, but shrugged it off.

The dread of unwanted unwelcome washed away with glee. “Indeed. I shall look forward to the festivities.”

Aemond lifted and placed his kiss upon the back of your hand. A kiss placed with gentle fire ignited your dulled soul, envision with flames of blush blaring your dewy cheeks. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

Breath caught in your throat, eyeing on his hand still lingering his intertwine fingers to your skin. “Likewise, my prince…”

For the first time in your life, the gentleness of a dragon has captured your heart and soul.

As for Aemond, with the slighted news of your presence, there’s nothing more than mere maiden who needs to be soiled with his perversions trapped and coiled and enflamed in between his legs. When he first laid his gaze on you, he pictured your flushed skin wrapped with his own, his lips captured yours as his presence trapped into your mind for eternity. But alas, with a wandering thought just now, it wasn’t like him. He mustn’t be capricious and avarice on the spot.

With your grand arrival, Aemond had already decided you’ll become his.

One day at the time, he reminded himself.

“It’s unusual for you to be courteous to someone,” Alicent commented.

“I never wish to scare anyone with my presence, mother,” Aemond said. “It is my duty as a prince to make our special guest comfortable.”

A hot tingle between your legs stirred as you eyed on him—on his lips—how rolled off words with his tongue, finding yourself imagining at the thought of your nephew tasting your folds as you ride him, warming the bed—riding him whilst lace and corset of your precious dress torn apart by his own rugged and young hands.

“He’s only being courteous like Prince Daeron,” you noted, clearing your throat. “Everyone must fulfill their role to the realm. We mustn’t decay our customs to rudeness.”

Aemond’s eye gleamed at your flushing features whilst you looked at Alicent in the eye, you speak with assurance yet your body wavered, dying for your hungered coil in you—the scorch caged within your dress to be set free.

You cannot fool me, my princess, he thought.

In the end, nobody can fool a dragon like him.

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hyperfixatedimagines · 4 months

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Home for the Holidays Chapter 2

A/N: This chapter is not quite as smutty as I may have promised so I apologize but hope you all still enjoy it. Please let me know what you think!

A/N 2: I also apologize for the massive massive delay but as always I appreciate those of you who've stuck around patiently waiting. Happy Holidays!

You walked into the study, and revealed yourself as the peeping tom.

“Oh it’s you,” Alicent said, a bit of surprise in her voice.

“I’m so sorry Alicent. I just couldn’t sleep so I came down for a drink of water then I saw the lights on and wondered who else was up but then I heard you crying and tried to leave you alone but then you heard me so I-,” you rambled, your face getting warmer with every word that left your lips.

Alicent put a hand up to quiet you.

It worked.

“It’s alright (y/n)," she said, her voice a bit hoarse.

You noted her eyes looked tired but her smile was just as warm as it had been earlier.

“I’ll uh- leave you to it then,” you said sheepishly.

You turned to leave but Alicent called out to you.

“Won't you join me for a drink?”

You turned back to her, eyebrows raised. “Are you sure?”

Alicent nodded.

“Only if you want to though,” she added.

“I do,” you replied.

So you walked over to where Alicent stood.

You sat down in the armchair opposite her in front of the fireplace.

“Pick your poison,” Alicent said and gestured to the bar cart next to her.

You eyed the options she had in the cart. Nothing you really liked but you didn’t want to be rude. So you went with the drink you least hated out of the alcohol she had available.

“I’ll do just two fingers of whiskey,“ you told her.

Alicent raised her brows. “I didn’t peg you for a whiskey girl.“

You smirked. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Alicent chuckled. “That is true.”

Then she turned to the bar cart and started to pour your drink.

You cleared your throat. “Is it alright if I ask why you were crying?”

Alicent finished pouring your whiskey.

Then she handed it over to you. You took it.

Alicent leaned back in her seat. “It’s not some big secret. My family can be...a lot, but the estate is so lonely when they aren’t all here. I get a little emotional when they leave.”

"I get that," you said, then took a sip of the whiskey.

It was horrendous but you did your best to hide your disgust.

You figured you didn’t hide it well enough by the laugh that escaped Alicent’s lips.

Your face went hot with embarrassment.

Alicent quickly recovered and changed the topic. “So, why couldn’t you sleep?”

You set the glass of whiskey aside. “It’s a bit pathetic really,” you replied without meeting her gaze.

Alicent frowned. “I’m sure it’s not...but I won’t pry if you don’t wish to share.”

You looked over at the fire, and got lost in the crackling flames before you answered. Alicent watched you, rapt.

“It’s my family. I checked my mother’s social media and she already has a bunch of vacation photos up.”

Alicent nodded softly. “I can imagine that hurt to see.”

You met her gaze. “It did, but what really hurt was that she didn’t even acknowledge a family member was missing. In one of the captions it said it was good to have the ‘whole family’ there.”

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes again so you turned away from Alicent and blinked them away.

"That’s so awful. I don’t understand how a mother could do that to her daughter. I can’t even imagine doing that with Aegon...and you know how he is," Alicent replied then took a long drink.

You let out a small laugh and turned back to face her.

She set her drink on her lap and laughed along.

The pain in your chest dissipated hearing Alicent’s laugh.

You smiled.

“Thank you,” you told her.

She tilted her head to the side. “Whatever for?”

“It hurts less, being here with you,” you confessed.

When you realized what you had said you quickly added, “- With your family, I mean.”

This time it was Alicent who blushed. She looked down at the drink in her hands. “You say the sweetest things (y/n).”

Butterflies started to tickle your nerves. No funny or witty retort formed in your mind. So you just smiled.

Alicent looked back up at you, and smiled back.

It started to get quiet as neither of you knew what to say next.

Once again it was Alicent who broke the silence.

“How is Aemond doing at uni? He tells me he’s doing well but I know my little dragon. I worry about him. He’s never been one to have many friends,” Alicent said as she swirled the alcohol around in her glass.

You took a steadying breath. “He’s doing alright. He’s a really nice guy.”

Alicent nodded without looking up from her glass. “That’s good. I’ve always hoped he would be. Does he have a girlfriend?”

You shook your head. “Not that I know of, and Aemond and I tell each other everything.”

“I see,” she replied, then looked up at you. “You know, the first time I saw you in the background during a facetime call I hoped you were his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “Me? Really?”

Alicent laughed along with you. “Yes, I guess I just hoped he had someone caring for him y’know?”

You nodded. “I do."

"Besides, you seemed like a nice girl and I thought we would get along well," she added, a tinge of pink in her cheeks.

"I don't think Aemond would classify me as a nice girl,” you said with a laugh.

Alicent took another drink, but she smiled as she peered over her glass and looked at you. “Is that so?”

“I don’t think Aemond would be my type, if I was into men, or I his in all honesty,” you replied and shrugged.

Alicent’s smile slowly disappeared, and was replaced by slightly pursed lips. She eyed you up and down before looking back down at the amber liquid in her glass. She cleared her throat.

Your gaze shot back towards her.

“What is your type?” She asked, swallowing hard.

Your eyes narrowed a bit at the question.

Why would she want to know? Is she flirt- No. She’s just making conversation, you thought to yourself.

“I guess I have a tendency to go for older women,” you revealed, trying your best not to give away that you only had one older woman in mind.

She met your gaze, and you didn’t dare look away.You didn’t dare take a breath.

There was something in her gaze, you couldn’t read it, and you didn’t want her to stop looking at you.

But she did.

Alicent looked away and took another drink. “How did you and uhm- how did you and Aemond become friends?”

You slowly let out the breath you had held.

“Uhm…,” you began, trying to collect your thoughts. “We had the same history class freshman year. He was this annoying kid in class that would correct the professor whenever there was the smallest inaccuracy or inconsistency. It drove everyone crazy but I thought it was hilarious.He was a total nerd and I found it ridiculously endearing.”

Alicent smiled. “That sounds like my Aemond.”

You nodded. “Then we got paired up for a history project and we just got to talking. We bonded over the way our families can be...a lot.”

Alicent looked at you with raised brows. “I see.”

You sat up, afraid you had offended her. “Not like in a bad or good way, just that with money comes high expectations.”

Alicent nodded. “Of course (y/n), I understand more than you could imagine.”

You sat back in the armchair and took another sip of your whiskey. “I don’t doubt it...what are eldest daughters if not slaves to the family name, right?”

The whiskey didn’t taste as gross this time so you took another drink.

Alicent gazed at the burning fire. She sighed.

“Exactly,” she whispered.

"Sorry for being so dour,” you said and downed the rest of the whiskey.

Alicent did the same and finished off her glass. “Don’t be. I haven’t had someone to talk to like this since…” She trailed off.

“Since your husband passed?,” you guessed.

Alicent nodded slowly. “Yes..”

“Aemond mentioned you used to be very involved in your late husband’s political campaigns. Do you have plans to get back into that?”

Alicent exhaled loudly and ran a hand through her messy auburn hair. “That’s a great question…”

Then Alicent sank into her seat and let her head rest against the back of the armchair.

“I’m actually having trouble figuring out what to do now that I’m a widow. It feels like my whole life I’ve lived for what others wanted of me. First, what my father wanted. Then what Viserys and the children needed from me,” Alicent mused. “I have no idea what I actually want..”

You stared at Alicent.

She looks so lonely, you thought. Does she open up like this to everyone, you wondered. Or is she like this only with me?

“Do you want to start a new career? Or take up a new hobby? Maybe…get back out there and date,” you asked, paying great attention to how she would react to your last words.

Alicent sat up and let out a chuckle. “God no, I mean….”

Then she looked down at her empty glass. “I wouldn’t know what to say or do,” Alicent tucked a stray lock behind her ear, “I doubt I’d have suitors clamoring for me at my age.”

You frowned. “You can’t possibly think that.”

Alicent shrugged. “I’m not much to look at I’m afraid.”

She’s not serious, you thought, how could someone so beautiful not know they’re a gift to us all?

“Alicent you are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” you blurted out.

Your stomach dropped. Had you really said that? Out loud?

Alicent’s gaze shot up to meet yours. Blush once again tinted her cheeks pink. “You’re very kind (y/n),” Alicent replied.

“It’s not kindness Alicent, it’s the truth,” you replied.

Before she could respond with something tragically self deprecating again you continued on.

“I know for a fact you would have hordes of men knocking down your door just for the chance to take you out to dinner,” you rambled as you fingered the rim of your glass anxiously.

You felt emboldened by her gracious acceptance of your flattery but you weren’t sure how far she’d like you take it…if she wanted you to take it beyond flattery.

Alicent laughed softly. “I don’t know about that.”

Your eyes flitted to her lips. You swallowed hard.

You wanted to know…you needed to know.

“I’d be at your door,” you professed and looked up to meet her gaze.

Alicent’s gaze felt hot. “Really?” She asked.

“In a heartbeat,” you replied, the thrumming of your own heart pulsed in your ears.

Alicent bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes raked over you. “Are you seeing anyone (y/n)?”

You shook your head softly. “No.”

You didn’t trust yourself to say much more, afraid your voice would crack under the nerves that ate away at your insides.

“I wouldn’t have guessed it, you’re such a charmer,” she said, with a playful smirk on her lips.

The thrumming dropped from your heart to between your thighs.

Desire bloomed in the words left unsaid by Alicent’s darkened gaze.

You sat up in the armchair and cleared your throat, hoping to regain some semblance of control over yourself. “The girls at school aren’t really my type.”

Alicent nodded. “Right, you like older women.” She set her glass aside then leaned back in her seat. "So what age is just right for you then?” Alicent asked as she crossed her legs.

Her nightgown rode up just past her knee, just enough to give you a glimpse at her thigh.

You swallowed hard and looked away. "That uhm- it uh-," you stuttered, the sneak peak at Alicent's thigh lingered in your mind.

Alicent sat forward and put her hands on her knee. "Would a woman like me be too old?" She held your gaze, and you noted that her irises had darkened much since dinner.

"N-n-no," you blurted, your brain had short circuited from the drastic change in Alicent’s demeanor.

Alicent smirked once more. “Am I making you nervous (y/n)?”

Your face felt feverish. You smiled sheepishly and ran your sweaty palms down your thighs. “Oh uhm I-,” you stuttered.

Then you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

When you opened them you realized Alicent was staring at you, smiling.

She was toying with you…Alicent was no longer just making conversation.

Two could play that game, you thought.

You swallowed hard and composed yourself.

“You do make me nervous Alicent. You’re exactly my type, after all,” you replied earnestly.

You watched as Alicent’s brows raised then she blushed and looked down at her hands.

"Oh, I-," she replied, her breath just above a whisper.

You smiled triumphantly. You just had to keep telling yourself that Alicent was no different than the other women you had flirted with, and who had flirted with you, countless nights at the bars in town.

Alicent shifted in her seat, you noted the way she pressed her legs closer together and smoothed her nightgown down.

She didn't meet your gaze again.

Your heart dropped.

Had you read things all wrong?

You panicked.

“I’m such an idiot,” you said under your breath.

Alicent furrowed her brows. ��Did you say something?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m sorry Alicent. I didn’t...I didn’t think that my words might be uncomfortable for you,” you rambled. “I’ll leave. I’m sorry,” you continued and stood from your chair.

You turned towards the door and started to move but Alicent reached out and gripped your wrist.

You turned back to meet her gaze.

“Stay…for another drink, please,” she uttered.

She let go of your wrist and you slowly sat back down.

This time she did not ask you what you wanted to drink. Instead she busied herself with the drinks and liquors. She picked the shaker up and proceeded to mix the cocktail she had prepared. Then she poured it into a clean glass and handed it to you.

Your fingers briefly grazed hers as the glass traded hands.

It only served to flame the kindling desires inside you.

You took a sip of the drink. She had poured you something sweet, but it was still quite strong.

“This is delicious,” you said, your eyes looking at her from above the rim of the glass.

Alicent cleared her throat and turned to pour herself another drink. “How did things go with Helaena? I noticed the way she took to you after dinner.You said you talked but it looked like more than that.”

You furrowed your brows as you took another sip. You needed liquid courage.

“That? She was just being nice. She congratulated me for being brave and sharing my story at dinner,” you explained then took another drink of the cocktail Alicent had mixed for you. You continued. “I told Aemond and Aegon I don’t think Helaena is gay. She’s just a very nice girl,” you finished.

Alicent turned to you with a new drink in her hands. She took a sip before resting it on her thigh. “That she is...it’s a shame though,” she stated.

You tilted your head to the side, unable to read her. “A shame?”

Alicent swirled her drink in her glass. “Mhm, I would’ve liked seeing you around more often if you had dated Helaena.” She took a long drink.

You looked down into your own glass and smiled. The thrumming in your chest returned. “I’ll just have to find another reason to stop by and share your company then,” you declared then looked back up at her.

Alicent held your gaze, her eyes curious and piercing. “You could be in any woman’s company, why bother with mine?”

You set your glass on the small table to the left of your armchair. You thought about how to respond.

She was your best friend's mother and you knew you couldn’t have her but…you wanted her nonetheless.

So you returned your gaze to her and told her the truth. “Because yours is the company I desire.”

Alicent did not look away and neither did you.

The world seemed to come to a standstill.

The way Alicent looked at you...if she was anyone else your lips would have been against hers in a matter of seconds.

But she wasn’t anyone else.

She was your best friend’s mother.

So you couldn’t assume.

She had to initiate. She had to show you that she wanted this too.

Alicent’s gaze drifted down to your lips.

She bit her lips as she stared and it almost sent you over the edge, the best friend code be damned.

Then she heaved a large sigh and turned towards the bar cart.

“Would you like another drink?” Alicent fiddled with various bottles before she stood. “Oh god, I forgot the grenadine.”

Then she walked to the full size bar at the far corner of the study.

You turned in your seat and watched as her hands shook, picking the grenadine up from the rack of mixes.

Had you misread things again?

No, you were convinced something was there. There was a spark between the two of you.

One you could not light and Alicent seemed hesitant to do so.

So you stood and walked to her side. You stopped when you felt Alicent’s back against your chest.

“I have another confession to make,” you whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

Your hands itched to reach out and touch her.

Part of you knew you would have to make the first move. A woman like Alicent, with no experience with women, would not be the one to initiate.

Alicent looked at you through the reflection in the mirror on the wall of the bar.

She swallowed. “What is it?”

You noted her voice was a little hoarse, dry and raw.

So you leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear.

“Something I’ve wanted to tell you since the moment I laid eyes on you...but if it would be unwelcome just say the word and I will go back to the guest room and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”

Being so close to her you smelled her intoxicating scent of cinnamon and vanilla. You had no doubt it was from an expensive perfume.

Alicent stared at you through the mirror, indecision and desire plain on her face.

“Say it,” she finally whispered.

“I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you and never stop. I want to kiss you until my lungs burn and my lips bruise,” you confessed, your voice thick with desire.

Alicent gasped.

She whipped around to face you.

Her chest pressed against yours.

The heat of her breath warmed your chest.

She looked between the two of you, at the lack of space.

Then she met your gaze.

She nodded ever so slightly.

That was enough for you.

You leaned in slowly, giving her enough time to change her mind if she truly did not want to kiss you.

Her lips were full and ruby red. You wanted nothing more than to devour her then and there.

Butterflies burst in your chest.

She wasn’t just any woman. She was Alicent.

And you did not want to break whatever spell the universe had cast.

Alicent closed her eyes as her lips neared yours.

You did the same when you felt the warmth of her breath on your lips.

Soft and yielding, were your first thoughts when your lips touched hers.

She cupped your face and pulled you closer.

You reached out and put your hands on her hips.

The thumping of your heart rang in your ears.

Alicent parted her lips and you let out a low moan when your tongue met hers.

No thought formed in your mind and all you could do was relish the feel of Alicent’s lips against your own.

But soon your lungs ached for air and sweat beaded off your forehead.

You did not want to part from her. You knew that if you did the spell would be broken.

Even worse, you feared that Alicent would ask you to forget such a kiss even took place.

So you continued to kiss her, your lungs be damned. You pulled her hips towards you and pressed them against your own.

The fire in your lungs could only be matched by the throbbing between your thighs.

Then just like that, Alicent pulled away.

But her hands remained on your face.

She ran her thumb across your cheek as her chest heaved. She smiled breathlessly.

“That was…,” she said then trailed off.

You nodded, also trying to catch your breath. “It was.”

Then she brought you in for another kiss.

It was quicker, and not as deep.

But you were glad the spell was not yet broken.

When she pulled away the second time you saw the hunger in her eyes once more.

It reminded you of the painful throb between your legs.

“Alicent,” you said as you tried to catch your breath.

Alicent stared at your lips. “Yes?”

“I want you…all of you,” you confessed.

Alicent’s gaze shot up to meet your own.

“What,” she gaped.

You swallowed hard.

Had you broken the spell?

“I want all of you,” you reiterated.

Alicent shook her head. “We couldn’t (y/n)...kissing is one thing but-,” Alicent replied but you cut her off with another kiss.

You needed to show her how much you wanted her. To let her realize how much she wanted you in return.

Alicent kissed you back without hesitation.

Slowly, you guided her to the chaise nearby.

When you felt the back of your knees hit the chaise you slowly lowered yourself and Alicent down onto it.

Alicent pulled away as you settled on the chaise.

She furrowed her brow.

“(y/n)...,” Alicent began but stopped herself.

She bit her lip as she watched your chest heave.

You laid back on the chaise and stuck your hand out towards her.

Alicent took it and straddled you.

She crashed her lips onto yours and kissed you hungrily.

Your hands fell to her hips once again.

Alicent’s hips softly bucked against yours as she continued to kiss you.

The throbbing between your thighs started to overwhelm you. You brought your hips up against Alicent’s.

She moaned into your kiss.

Your hands roamed her lower body as you both lost yourself in the kiss.

Alicent pulled away from you and put a hand on your chest.

“You must never tell Aemond,” she commanded.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

Then Alicent got off of you and helped you stand.

She led you to the elevator and pressed the button for the floor where her room was.

I will never tire of her kiss, you thought as Alicent pressed her lips to yours once more.

She straddled you on her bed.

It was plush with ample space. You figured it was probably worth more than your school’s tuition.

Alicent broke the kiss to unbutton your pajama top.

When Alicent reached the second to last button she furiously pulled it apart and hungrily kissed your neck.

You threw your head back and bit your lip.

It burned wherever her lips trailed along your neck and down your chest. You needed more.

Alicent pulled away and undid her silk robe.

You stood and pushed the pajama bottoms off your body.

The second your pants hit the floor Alicent pushed you back onto the bed and straddled you.

You smiled up at her.

You would never have imagined her so dominant, but it fed the flames of your desire.

Alicent brought your lips to hers and placed her hands on the bed on either side of your head.

Your hands flew to her thighs. You pushed her silk nightgown up, and didn’t stop.

The nightgown was up to her hips.

When you didn’t feel any lace underneath you pulled away from the kiss.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath?” You asked, your voice filled with surprise.

Alicent looked down at you with a small smirk. “Maybe I wanted to save you a step,” she replied with a laugh.

You smiled back and leaned up to capture her lips in a kiss once more.

Not even a minute later you pulled away from Alicent again, this time to bring the nightgown up and over her head.

Alicent grabbed the nightgown from you and tossed it aside.

You stared up at her, now fully naked and bathed in moonlight from the skylight in the ceiling.

“You’re perfect,” you whispered.

Alicent smiled at you. “Such a charmer,” she teased.

You wrapped your arms around her and flipped the both of you over in her bed.

Alicent giggled as she landed on her back, a few of the feathers from the down pillows on the bed flew out and settled in Alicent’s hair.

You raked your eyes over her body, committing every dip and curve to memory.

“Are you going to keep staring or are you-,” she began but was once again cut off. She let out a small moan as your lips closed around her budded nipple.

Her hands dug into your hair as you sucked on her.

Your hands did not idle as one held you upright and the other traveled down Alicent’s side.

The ghost of your fingertips left goosebumps in their wake on Alicent’s warm skin.

Alicent bit down on her lip as your hand settled between her thighs.

Her wetness was splashed against her inner thighs. At the very touch of it you felt your own desire soak through your underwear.

Your mouth left her nipple and placed kisses along her collarbone.

Alicent hummed in bliss.

Your fingers made their way to Alicent’s labia.

Her voice caught as the tips of your fingers touched her.

You brought your gaze up to hers.

“Last chance to turn back and pretend like nothing happened,” you joked.

Alicent huffed and brought your lips to hers. “Don’t you even think about it.”

You smiled into the kiss.

I wouldn’t dream of it, you thought to yourself, I’ve been good all year for this present.

Alicent moaned into your kiss when your fingers entered inside her.

Sounds of pleasure would escape Alicent all night as you devoted yourself to making the night never end so that you would never have to leave the warmth of her kiss.

After you both had been spent, Alicent placed a gentle kiss to your cheek and bid you goodnight.

“Dream of me,” you told her.

She smiled lazily as her eyes fluttered shut. “As if I could dream of anyone else after tonight.”

You smiled as you watched her drift off to sleep.

Your own eyelids grew heavy, but you fought sleep for as long as you could.

If you slept you would wake up and would have to have a conversation about what tonight would mean for you and Alicent (and Aemond), but if you remained awake you could bask in post coital bliss.

So you gazed at a sleeping Alicent, and gently raked your hands through her hair.

“Thank you,” you whispered to her.

Sleep came for you though you tried your hardest to fight it.

The next morning you woke up, briefly confused about the location you had awoken in then reassured as you looked over at Alicent still wrapped in your arms.

It had not been a dream.

You placed a gentle kiss to the side of her head then slowly untangled yourself from her.

You dressed yourself and put on the now partially torn pajama top then headed out the door.

Sounds of a whirring blender and workout music lead you to the kitchen. You knew Aemond loved to blast hip hop right before he weight trained first thing in the morning. It had been annoying at first but you’d grown used to it.

You entered the kitchen.

Aemond smiled as you walked in. “Good morning (y/n).”

You grinned from ear to ear. “It is a blessed morning indeed.”

He immediately narrowed his eyes on you. “Why are you talking like that?”

Then his eyes flew down to the torn pajama top.

He set his green smoothie down on the counter, a severe look on his face. “Tell me you didn’t actually-”

You opened the fridge and retrieved a bottled mineral water.

“Oh I very much did, and hope to do it again,” you replied with a satisfied smirk.

Aemond’s jaw dropped. “That’s my mother, you harlot! How? She’s totally- wait I don’t want to know how.”

You laughed and took a long drink of water.

Aemond threw a piece of nearby celery at you. “You’re never coming home for the holidays ever again.”

You laughed as it landed on you. “I don’t think I’m ever leaving, son.”

Aemond laughed as you walked out of the kitchen.

As you walked back up to Alicent’s bedroom you realized that this had been the best Christmas you could’ve asked for. Fuck St. Barths.

#alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent higtower imagine #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon reader insert #alicent hightower reader insert

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sl-ut · 22 days

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a prince’s desire

so sorry if this sucks lol I just got really high and wrote this in like 2 hours lolol

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!pregnant!reader x daemon targaryen

description: after being reunited with her lover, rhaenyra takes her back to dragonstone to join her family and requests that daemon take her as a second wife. now, over a year after the wedding, rhaenyra wants nothing more than to see her wife pregnant, and daemon is more than happy to oblige.

warnings: SMUT, pregnancy, reader gets pretty depressed while she's preggo, mentions of masturbation, angst, slight canon divergence, alcohol consumption, mentions of (consensual) adultery turned polyamory, mentions of death (adult and children :((( ), polygamy, swearing, all other canon warnings (incest (i try my hardest to not lay this one on thick bc ew), violence, sexism, etc)

words: 5K

date posted: 27/03/24

previous installments: a princess's order a lady's demand

After his third marriage, Daemon Targaryen had absolutely no intentions of taking another wife. His history with married life had not necessarily been a good one; Rhea Royce had been nothing but a royal pain in his ass; He’d been happy with Laena, though her life came to an end far too soon; He did love Rhaenyra, though ambition and pride often came between them. Mistresses, sure–Daemon was a rather insatiable man, and Rhaenyra had been almost consistently pregnant during their early years of marriage, but he’d never even once considered that he might have to stand through yet another wedding ceremony, especially one that had been arranged and encouraged by his still living wife and future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

He hadn’t been at all surprised when Rhaenyra confessed to him that she had once loved her childhood friend, nor that she did not think that she would ever truly be able to move past the conflict between them or love another quite the same. Of course, she loved Daemon, and even Laenor and Harwin to some degree, but none would ever stand up to her very first love that she’d allowed to slip through her fingers like running water. He was equally unsurprised to find that she’d not returned to their rooms on their first night back in King’s Landing, nor that she would return in the early hours of the morning with a familiar glow that he’d only seen on her after their own late night activities, especially since he’d caught wind earlier in the evening that Lady Y/n Y/l/n had returned to the capitol a widow.

There were things that he had expected from this relationship; The two would fuck, of course, to make up for lost time, they would spend the majority of their days strolling through the gardens as they had done when they were girls, and Y/n would perhaps even return to Dragonstone with them as her mistress. Daemon could not exactly blame his wife for her affections, Lady Y/n was undeniably beautiful, and he would certainly take her to bed if he were ever given the chance. She could remarry, of course, she was still young and she’d already proven herself to be fertile, even if the children had not survived infancy. Any man would be a fool to turn her away, which is exactly why Daemon found himself standing before her on the black-sand shores of Dragonstone, a chalice between them and blood dripping from either of their lips. Rhaenyra had watched on with glee, rushing forward the moment that the ceremony had been complete to engulf her new wife in a tight embrace, sealing their own union with a firm kiss.

Daemon had not been included in the wedding night activities, though he had been invited to watch, which he did so from the balcony of their chambers in order to give them their own space. Rhaenyra’s body had been glowing in the candle light, curves and smooth, milky skin on display for him and their new wife to admire as they both had time and time again in the past. Daemon could not tear his gaze away from their new wife’s figure, no matter how hard he tried. He blamed it on the novelty of having a new wife, especially one that he was not even able to touch on their wedding night, and he might have reacted the same way if he were to see any woman naked for the first time. He stroked himself on the balcony, low grunts leaving his lips as her moans reached his ears, eyes tracing over her breasts, the pudge of her stomach, the curve of her spine, and–oh… he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a woman’s core glisten like that before, nor had he ever heard such a prominent squelch as the Targaryen princess dipped her fingers inside. He’d always known she was a beautiful lady, but now, oh now he was able to understand to some degree why Rhaenyra was so strongly under her spell.

Just over a year had passed, and Daemon had still yet to enjoy his newest wife to the extent that he would have liked. He did enjoy getting to know her personally, finding her much more amusing than he had expected, and they often found themselves sitting together in the evenings while Rhaenyra was busy with her royal duties. They had kissed each other on several occasions, and she had once allowed him to kneel beneath her skirts one evening after a tad too much wine, but nothing further had developed in their physical relationship.

She had fit into their family easier than any of them could have expected. She was good with the children, taking them all under her wing as if they were her own, though her relationship with both Rhaenyra and Daemons older children was a bit strained in the beginning. Children were a bit of a sore topic for her; She rarely spoke of her own late children, but both Daemon and Rhaenyra could easily tell how broken she was over their deaths. She and Rhaenyra had bonded even more after Rhaenyra had lost her own daughter in labour, all three parties agreeing that Rhaenyra would not have any more children.

That did not change the fact that both Daemon and Rhaenyra could tell that Y/n longed to be a mother once more. She honoured her own boys on their name days, and on the anniversaries of their deaths, but none of Rhaenyra’s children saw her as a mother, nor did she expect them to. They both noticed the way she had this longing stare in her eyes each time that one of the younger children called for their mother, or as Jacaerys and Lucerys slowly grew into young men, as her own children would not be much younger than they are now had they survived their sickness. It was just after the one year anniversary of Daemon and Y/n’s wedding that Rhaenyra proposed to him that they offer Y/n the chance to have another child, as many as she was willing to carry, but of course it would ultimately be her decision; Neither of them were very fussed either way, they both already had a small militia of children of their own, but they would be happy to welcome more into the world, especially if it meant that she would be tied to the Targaryen bloodline through more than marriage.

They waited a while longer to bring this to her, but Rhaenyra had been subtly encouraging her to spend more time with Daemon, and even suggested that they might begin sharing a bed with one another from time to time, whether it be on their own or with Rhaenyra present. She assured her that he was in fact attracted to her, pointing out how she is the one that he stares so longingly at when he watches them together. It was not that Y/n had been opposed to this, she was equally as attracted to Daemon as he was to her, but she had not been with a man since her late husband, and she had not expected to ever take another man to bed again now that she and Rhaenyra were officially together.

The conversation was finally brought to her a month after she and Daemon spent their first night together. They had been intimate, but she had still not allowed him to be inside of her, instead opting to pleasure him with her mouth, hands, and breasts. Rhaenyra whispered in her ear during supper one evening, suggesting that they invite their husband to join them that night, which she excitedly agreed to, completely unaware of what sort of proposition they would offer her, and she was especially surprised at how quickly she consented to their idea.

Rhaenyra had knelt behind her that night, both straddling their husband’s hips as the blonde gripped her wife’s waist to aid her movements, guiding her with every bounce of her long cock and whispering praises into her ear between kisses on her neck. Daemon had been uncharacteristically happy to sit back against the headboard and watch as his wives moved in unison over him, grunting as the tight squeeze of her velvet walls around him. He could hardly pull himself away from her lips, eagerly swallowing every one of her sweet moans as he emptied himself inside of her, sighing as she slumped back against Rhaenyra as she reached her own peak.

They had continued this for months until the maester finally confirmed that Y/n was with child, her skin glowing in delight at the thought of having a child to raise with her husband and wife. By the fifth month of her pregnancy, her stomach had swelled enough to show through her heavy gowns, and her hormones had taken full effect of her everyday life.

If it weren’t bad enough that she was constantly fatigued, or that her feet and back ached, or that her breasts were swollen and tender to the mere brush of her gown against her sensitive nipples, she had also grown to be absolutely insatiable. She found that her thighs were constantly slick with her arousal, and that she was able to bring herself to orgasm in the simplest ways, even by just sitting on certain pieces of furniture. Daemon and Rhaenyra could no longer enjoy bedding her on the same night quite as regularly as before, all because of how regularly she was mewling for them; Daemon had even jokingly suggested that they encourage her maids to pleasure her throughout the day so that they could keep up with her, only to be met with Rhaenyra’s palm slamming into the back of his head. It even came to the point where Rhaenyra felt the need to consult the maester about how regularly all three of them were being intimate together, who advised that, as her pregnancy developed, physical intimacy may result in causing her pain.

Instead, Rhaenyra encouraged her to participate in some “self-care” routines, as she had called them, telling her that pregnancy could cause her to think poorly of herself in many ways, so she thought it best that she take long, hot baths under the candlelight, drink honeyed wine and have her maids soak her in scented oils before taking the initiative to pleasure herself as much as she desired. Daemon had not been so keen on this idea, considering that he was constantly finding her with her hands between her thighs and not allowing him to cut in until she had finished, meaning that she was incredibly sensitive and could not take quite as much as she used to be able to before she began this routine. Even Rhaenyra was beginning to regret it, easily noticing the way that her maids now stared at her longingly, likely having seen and heard her in the throes of self-pleasure more times than they had with her husband and wife involved.

When Rhaenyra brought up her annoyances with Daemon, he had been quick to point fingers, claiming that it was entirely her fault that Y/n had not been seeking them out as much. They both came to the conclusion that they needed to get her out of this habit as quickly as she had gotten into it.

“My love,” Rhaenyra smiled sweetly as she entered her chambers, finding her settled in the bathtub with rose petals floating in the water around her. The water rippled around her rounded belly and breasts as they poked out into the warm air. Rhaenyra thought that she had never looked so beautiful in her life, with the exception of their wedding day. “How do you feel? The maester told me you had a bout of sickness after supper.”

The woman opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at her wife as she knelt at her side, one hand dipping in to feel the temperature of the water, “‘M fine, Nyra. I do not think that mutton agrees with our babe.”

The Targaryen woman laughed, “I’m sorry, my love, I know how you enjoy mutton so. I will instruct the cooks to avoid it until the babe arrives then.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n stroked a hand over her belly, “I would give anything to keep her happy.”

“Her?” Rhaenyra asked, settling her hand on the bump as well, “You expect a girl?”

“I do,” Y/n beamed, “I will be happy either way, but I have a feeling. I know how you long for a daughter, as well.”

Rhaenyra flushed, “You are too kind to me my love. I will be happy with our child regardless of gender, so long as they are a part of the one I love the most.”

Y/n giggled, “Do not let our husband hear you speaking like that.”

“He knows his place,” Rhaenyra chuckled, fingers wandering up to brush against the tender flesh of her breast, smirking to herself at the moan that fell from her wife’s lips at the smallest touch.

Rhaenyra turned her head, finding her maids looking bashful in the corner of the room. They had been witness to Y/n’s pleasure before, but never at the hand of one of her spouses.

“Out,” She commanded, “I will finish my wife’s bath on my own.”

They all hesitated for a moment before nodding, curtsying to both women before rushing out.

“Nyra,” Y/n scolded, “I was about to begin my “self-care”.”

“I can care for you, my heart.” The silver-haired woman cooed as she lowered her hand below the surface of the water, taking little care for the sleeve of her gown as her fingertips found the slick button between her thighs.

“It was your idea, Rhaenyra.” Her voice sounded firmer than before, and her once sleepy eyes had grown hard and accusing.

“A stupid one, I must admit,” She sighed, rubbing small circles into her clit, “I miss how insatiable you once were, how you begged for me to touch you, how you begged for our husband’s cock.”

A flash of sadness appeared on her face as sprung to her waterline, “You were tired of me, you do not want me.”

Rhaenyra stopped her movements, “What?”

A soft sob left her lips, “You asked me to take care of myself. I thought it might have been because you and Daemon were busy, but then I came to your rooms one night and–”

She didn’t need to finish for Rhaenyra to understand. She and Daemon had found it difficult to keep up with their wife’s libido, but once she had begun taking care of herself, they still had their own desires and spent many nights together. Rhaenyra felt stupid for not seeing how this would feel to their wife, let alone now that her emotions were heightened. She had not considered herself unattractive until Rhaenyra asked if she mentioned that self pleasure was beneficial for helping her bodily insecurities, only to find that she and Daemon were continuing to fuck without her on the regular.

Y/n pushed her hand away, sitting up and pulling her knees as close to her chest as her stomach would allow, “Leave me.”

“My love–”

“Please,” Her voice cracked, “Send my handmaidens in, I want to go to bed.”

“Y/n, please let me–”

“Go!” She shrieked, tears now falling down her cheeks readily as she pushed herself out of the water abruptly, “Get out!”

The door burst open, her handmaidens appearing in the room with worried expressions at the sound of their lady’s screaming. They rushed forward, helping her step out of the tub and wrapping her in her favourite silk robe.

Rhaenyra watched as she stumbled away, ignoring the water dripping from her as she crawled onto the bed, the most heart-wrenching sobs leaving her lips. The Crown Princess did not want to leave, longing to go after her and make her understand, but the guilt that began to force itself up her throat was too much to bear. Without another word, she pushed through the doorway and into the corridor, rushing to find Daemon.

Y/n did not leave her chambers for three days. She had breakfast, tea, and dinner in her rooms with no company except for her handmaidens. She refused to allow Rhaenyra or Daemon in to see her any time that they had come to visit, even when they each tried to assert their rank over her handmaidens. She was now almost seven months into her pregnancy, and she was continuously wondering to herself how she had let herself be talked into another child. She wept day and night, countless apologies leaving her lips to her late children, begging for their forgiveness and cursing Rhaenyra and Daemon for bringing her walls down so much that she had allowed herself to be in the position to potentially lose yet another child.

On the fourth day, Rhaenrya had decided that enough was enough, and used the secret passageway into her wife’s room. When she found her, she felt her heart clench in her throat, finding her still in nothing but the silk robe that she’d left her in four days earlier, curled in a ball on her favourite sofa and staring blankly out the window. How had she allowed herself to hurt the one person she loved above all else again after vowing to protect her heart with her entire being?

“My love,” Rhaenyra called out, closing the hidden door behind her. She frowned when she was met with complete silence, “My love, can you hear me?”

“What is it, Your Grace?”

Rhaenyra cringed, having only heard Y/n speak to her so formally when she was truly angry with her. “The maester told me you have not slept or eaten in two days. It is not good for the child.”

Y/n scoffed, “The babe.”

“It is not good for you, either, my love.”

Rhaenyra knelt in front of her, hands cupping her cheeks and grimacing at how cold she felt. Rhaenyra had gone to Daemon that night, her pale cheeks flushed red and wet from her tears as she paced for hours, wondering how they would be able to make things right with her–how had she let this happen? How could she make her feel unloved by the two people who loved her more than anything?

“Please look at me,” She whispered, head ducking to meet her hollow gaze. “I’m not sure how I can make you feel how deeply angry I am with myself. I am so, so sorry, my love.”

Y/n sniffled, but did not respond.

“May I explain myself?” Rhaenyra waited for her weak nod before she continued, “I did not mean to make you feel unwanted, by any means. You are sweet, and good, and beautiful, and I could never imagine a world where I would not want you. Daemon and I–we cannot excuse ourselves, but we can explain. We were concerned for you, for how often we were bedding you. The maester told us that we could hurt you, which is why I suggested what I did. I did not mean to imply that we did not want you. In fact, we wanted you so deeply that we turned to each other for the first time in so long because we thought you were more comfortable with taking care of yourself.”

Y/n shook her head, “I only did it because that’s what I thought you wanted.”

“I could never not want you, my beautiful wife.” Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to her clammy cheek.

“I must admit,” Y/n laughed bitterly, “I began to believe after some time that I had become a concubine for you both.”

“I do not think it is custom to love one’s concubine, my sweet.” Rhaenyra chuckled, then turned sombre when she took note of her expression, “My love, else bothers you?”

“I do not want to have another child,” Y/n whispered, “I feel almost as if I am betraying my boys. I will love this child with all of my heart, and nothing makes me more happy than to be tied to you both through blood, but I will not have another.”

Rhaenyra sighed, “I am sorry if you have felt pressured by us.”

“I haven’t,” She shook her head, “But I have done some thinking over the past two days. I have been happy here, and I do want this child, but I’m not sure that I can handle another. This child is a sibling, but to have two, it feels like I am replacing them, and to me they are completely irreplaceable.”

Rhaenyra kissed her head, “You will not have to. I will speak to Daemon, and the maester. We will make sure that this is your last pregnancy.”

“You don’t think that Daemon will be upset with me? He won’t want any more children?”

“If he is, then perhaps we would need to rethink how many people we want in this marriage, don’t you think?”

This made Y/n giggle, and it was like music to Rhaenyra’s ears. She finally leaned into her, wrapping her arms around Rhaenyra’s middle and nuzzling into her neck. Rhaenyra gladly held her, running her fingers through her hair affectionately as she began to notice her breathing grow heavier.

“You must be tired, my sweet,” Rhaenyra turned her head to look at her, “Why don’t you have a bath while I go find you some supper, then you can rest.”

“Will you stay with me while I sleep?” She murmured.

Rhaenyra kissed her lips softly, “Of course I will.”

When Y/n woke up, Rhaenyra was still at her side, her long fingers stroking Y/n’s swollen belly over her thin nightgown.

“Good morning, my love,” She greeted with a small smile.

“Evening, you mean,” Y/n had not even noticed that Daemon had occupied the space behind her in the bed until he spoke up, his own hand reaching around to lay on top of Rhaenyra’s on her belly.

Y/n leaned back into him, sighing at the warmth being emitted from his firm chest, “How long was I sleeping?”

“Almost a day,” He kissed her temple to soothe her as she cried out in surprise, “But you needed it.”

“It’s true,” Rhaenyra affirmed, “You were awake for two days straight. I’ll call your ladies, you must be starving.”

“I am,” Y/n trailed a finger up her arm, “But not for food.”

Rhaenyra shook her head as Daemon chuckled at their wife, “My love, you are very weak right now–”

“Neither of you have touched me in almost two months,” She whined, “Please.”

The two Targaryens shared a glance over her shoulder, Daemon shrugging in response to Rhaenyra’s concerned look.

“Alright,” She finally conceded, “But you must lie there, let us take care of you.”

The woman eagerly nodded, excited whimpers falling from her lips from the slightest drag of Daemon’s lips against her jugular, his fingers pulling the strap of her nightgown down over her shoulder to expose one of her tender breasts. Rhaenyra was quick to pull her into a kiss, tongue forcing itself past her wife’s lips and swallowing every sound she made, her nimble fingers twisting her perky nipple gently.

Everything moved in a blur for Y/n over the next few moments, somehow finding herself now on her back, knees bent as her nightgown was rucked up to settle over her swollen belly, Rhaenyra wasting little time in dragging her tongue torturously through her folds, which had already been dripping with her sweet nectar from the moment that she had woken up. Her cheeks felt warm, embarrassed at how sensitive and wet she’d been before either of them even touched her and at how quickly she was able to feel herself at her peak.

At her side, Daemon was needy for her attention. He tucked two fingers under her chin, quickly turning her head to capture her lips in a warm and messy kiss. Her own eager fingers quickly found the laces of his breeches, tugging at them until they were just loose enough to slide her hand inside and take hold of his rapidly hardening member, their sighs of pleasure being lost in one another’s mouths as she slowly pumped him until he was completely hard, whining in protest as he pushed her touch away.

“Patience, sweet one,” He tsked at her, instead turning his attention to suckling at her breasts, tugging her other strap down to release both of her heaving tits to his mercy.

The wave crashed over her before she could comprehend it, eyes rolling back as neither of them made any move to slow or stop their ministrations as they each licked and sucked at her most sensitive parts until she was trembling with aftershocks.

“Do you think she is ready for me?” Daemon peered down at Rhaenyra, who had continued to lick at her clit softly.

She grinned up at him, “More than she’s ever been.”

He chuckled, reaching his hand down to feel her wetness for himself with a wicked glint in his eyes, “Perhaps we should deprive our needy little wife more often if it means she will always be this responsive.”

Rhaenyra frowned, “You are bold to assume that either of us will be able to resist for so long ever again, husband. I’m certain that I can’t.”

“Perhaps I merely need to be reminded, I may not have my wits about me.”

Within seconds, his clothes had been completely removed and was was dragging her by the ankles until her bum was hanging off the edge of the mattress and he was pressed tightly between her legs. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra had helped her slide her shift off over her head, leaving her completely bare to her husband and wife.

Her back arched off of the bed as Daemon notched the head of his member against her entrance, easily slipping inside with a drawn out moan, eyes closed as he relished in the feeling of her silky walls throbbing around him.

“See how he desires you?” Rhaenyra whispered to her, “You make him weak, he belongs to you. We belong to you.”

She nodded, watching in awe as Rhaenyra��s slender neck was engulfed by their husband’s fingers, his meaty fist forcing her to meet his hard kiss as his spare hand slid beneath Y/n’s hip and flipped her onto her side, barely missing a beat as he threw her top leg over his shoulder and sped up his thrusts.

Rhaenyra grinned into the kiss, reaching up to slide her middle and index fingers into her wife’s mouth, slowly thrusting them in and out until they were dripping with her saliva. Carefully, she moved them down and began circling them around her untouched hole, feeling the snug ring of muscles tighten and release under her touch. The sloppy juices of her release had dripped down and provided an extra lubricant as one of her long fingers dipped inside, stilling for a few moments to allow her to adjust to the intrusion before she pressed the second in as well. Her movements were slow, not wanting to force the tightness of her ass and further than she already was, especially with the force of Daemon’s thrusts into sweet cunt.

Mere moments passed before her second release began bursting out of her core and splashing against Daemon’s stomach, the warmth of her juices bringing him to his own climax. She allowed him to keep forcing himself into her abused hole before she was pressing her foot flat into his shoulder to push him away.

“Look at her,” Rhaenyra murmured to him, smirking down at her wife’s trembling body, “Look at how needy she is for us. We belong to her, but she is ours alone.”

Daemons slowly allowed his cock to slide out of her, falling down to poke at her asshole as Rhaenyra pulled her fingers out. The future queen slid from the mattress, disappearing out of Y/n’s sight as Daemon huddled overtop of her, pressing warm kisses across her neck and chest. He pulled back as Rhaenyra reappeared next to her, wiping her hands clean with a wet cloth before she made quick work of wiping the pregnant woman’s sensitive cunt clean as Daemon readjusted his breeches as she moved across the room to sit by the burning fireplace.

Rhaenyra helped her wife move back up to lay against her pillows, tucking her in beneath the soft sheets. She crawled in next to her, pressing her lips to her forehead and chuckling when Rhaenyra felt her tugging at her skirts.

“I am alright, my heart,” She pushed her hands away, “You should rest. We will call for your supper.”

Y/n nodded, a touch disappointed that she hadn’t been able to taste her wife’s delicious cunt, but her sadness faded as she felt her eyes fluttering shut, lulling her into a deep sleep as she huddled closer to Rhaenyra’s chest.

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #house of the dragon spoilers #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd rhaenyra #rhaenyra is a gay icon #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader

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missdrake · 1 year

Text

Meant to be mine

Excuse me for the horrible smut

Tags: Soft dark!Jace OC, mentions & descriptions of parent abuse, character death (poison), childhood to lovers. EXPLICIT: Titty sucking, breeding kink (if you squint), creampie, tummy bulge (mention) Jace really taking after his parents

The dragon runs in his blood. Jace won't give you up for anything, even if your hands belong to another.

To marry well. A constant reminder of your obligations as a lady. Prepare to be disappointed. It's rare for love to blossom in such unions. Marriage is a trade more than anything-whether it's for a shipping fleet or an ally. How foolish of you to think your fate would differ from any lady.

How you've dreamed of having your 'protected' cloak placed around your shoulder to be the sigil of a three-headed dragon. Anticipating facing the man you've known for years. Instead, your 'protected' cloak's sigil is one of a golden lion and your wedding vows are exchanged with another.

Before the feast could begin, the doors opened, and everyone turned. Seeing the royal family ascend made your breath catch in your throat. They weren't invited. You were certain otherwise their upcoming presence would have been the talk around. Casting a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing your father's enraged face. Jakob Lannister, your newly husband, looked stunned.

Arriving with her husband Daemon by her side, Rhaenyra appears to be as gorgeous as ever. The rest of her children follow after. Your gaze is drawn to Prince Jacaerys.

Rhaenyra greets your father first, complimenting him on how lovely the wedding seems. She raises the corner of her mouth to smile, but her eyes remain cold. Her eyes warm when she turns to face you. “My dear Y/N.”

Her hand reaches for your necklace-an embroidered lion. "You look as beautiful as ever-we were so excited to have you in the family," she says as her eyes catch your father's. "But alas, I am sure Jakob Lannister is one lucky man to have such a lovely bride."

You mutter your thanks to her as she gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek. Leaving your side, her family follows her. Jace follows. His hand brushed against yours. Your eyes never leave him until your father grabs hold of your shoulder. Your father's hold grows tighter, reminding you of your position. Your duty.

The family had no seat as no one anticipated their arrival, still the servants rushed to grab seats for them. The other lords and ladies glare at the family when they choose the table closest to yours.

You and your husband are sitting next to one another. And you repress the urge to look over at the table. The ominous presence of your father serves as a reminder of the consequences if you dared to look.

When the two approach your table, you try to conceal your surprise. It's Daemon and Jace. For some time, Jace and you just stare at each other in silence. Daemon nudges him to reality. "I'm happy for the two of you," Jace finally speaks with a smile that stops short of reaching his eye.

“May your marriage be long and fruitful,” he says with almost clenched teeth. Your husband thanks him, oblivious to the tone of voice. With his hands behind his back, Daemon amusedly watches everything that was happening.

Jace looks in your direction and says, "I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to take your 'newdly' wife for a dance." Jakob nods. You wonder how gullible a man can be. Standing up and crossing over the table to accept Jace's hand.

You hiss at him, "What are you going?" as the two of you descend the hall's steps, but he feigns innocence, "I have no clue on what you're speaking of." You join the other dancing lord and ladies. "Don't play me the fool, Jace," but when you feel your hand on his waist, your words are caught in your throat. The jerk knows what his touch does to you.

"I'm a married woman now," you continue in a firm tone. Try to have him take this matter seriously. Yet Jace keeps looking at you with the same burning gaze. Stop looking at me like that. You wanted to tell him. Or else you'll crumble.

His face is much closer to yours than it should be, and his hands are placed much more intimately than they should be. Your gaze turns to your father, who appears indignant over what he is witnessing. It shifts to your newly husband, who is speaking with Daemon, who has now moved to his side where your seat once was. Daemon seems to congratulate him? Is this the same man you've met before.

'Focus on me, not them,' a hand reaches for your cheek, nudging you to look at him. With his breath nearing your lips, you try to warn him, "Jace.". Eyes widening. He wouldn't do it, would he? Certainly not in front of all those people.

He whispers, "You were meant to be mine, my wife, my sweet wife," one inch closer and his lips will touch yours. Everyone is too absorbed in their dancing, in their drinks, in their conversations to notice the intimate moment between the two of you. He was going to do it. In front of all those people. And the worst thing of it all. You won't try to stop him.

Then your father's voice booms across the court, signaling the start of the play. It was far too early; you frown. But you understood why your father had done it. The crowd starts to scatter, and it took some resistance to escape Jace's tight grip before anyone had the chance to focus on the two of you.

Upon seeing your father's rage, you hurriedly got back with your husband after tremblingly climbing the few steps. The play opens with a man who can allegedly spit fire and swallow a sword. The stunned crowd gasps, but your expression remains the same; unable to concentrate.

As per usual, your husband continues to be unaware of everything, too occupied with drinking his wine. Then it happens. Your husband starts to choke, but everyone is too preoccupied with watching the play to notice. Patting his back and trying to give him more wine, assuming he must have choked on his food.

The coughing, however, only gets worse, and soon he is spitting out the wine. Few around him begin to turn. Your husband is bending over, grasping the table. His cough grew louder and more started to notice.

He stands shakily, revealing his face. You couldn't help but shriek at the sight and now everyone's attention is on you both. His face is fully red now, and some sounds are heard, but he's unable to speak. Unable to breathe. He stumbles, knocking a few things off the table. Then he drops to the ground.

You hear Daemon shout, "Someone help him, you fools," and when guards and members of his family run to help him, you are shoved aside. Covering your mouth at the graphic and horrifying sight of Jakob trembling on the floor, grabbing at his throat, gagging, all the while trying to gasp for air.

An arm reaches out to you, leaning you on their chest to avoid looking at the scene. Having been in his arms so often, you recognize it to be Jace. Looking up at him-you see his gaze at the sight. A blank expression on his face. No shock. No worries.

Then you hear the cries of grief—Jakob is dead. All claim to be poisoned. Many cooks and servants have been interrogated, and some hanged. Jakob Lannister had few enemies, leaving the one who caused this to remain a mystery.

What a cruel joke the gods played on you—to marry and be a widow on the same day. You can see the pitiful looks of everyone in attendance at his funeral. And hear the murmurs when you turn away from them. The word "curse" said more than once.

The royal family was present at the funeral, as they were at the wedding. Jace is leaning against the wall with his eyes on you. He is near his great-uncle, or should you say, stepfather. Prior to your arrival, the two appeared to be speaking. Rhaenyra steps toward you, hugging and telling you what a tragedy it is, that if you need any help, Dragonstone will welcome you at any time.

As time passed, you grew tired of having everyone's sight on you. So you leave, descending the stairs. No one stops you. No one questions where you’re going. As you make your way outside a little further, you are now walking alongside the beach, feet near the water. Holding onto your shawl as the wind blows.

A touch is felt on your shoulder causing you to jump only to relax when turning to see seeing its Jace. There is a brief silence as the two of you stare; the longing in his eyes is still there. "You grieve for him?" he asks. In regards to the black cloth covering your shoulders. You shake your head.

"It's custom, Jace," you say, as if it were the most obvious thing. "There's no need for that with me," tugging on your shawl, letting the wind carry it. It falls into the water and is soon lost in the depths as the waves move it back and forth.

"Jace!" You reprimand him, already annoyed at him for that show he put on at your wedding. In the early morning, before the funeral, your father screamed at you for it. Many assumed your teary eyes were you mourning.

He grabs you as you try to move away. "You're terrified of him." He knows it's your father who opposed the marriage. Your father was a good friend of Lord Hightower, and you often heard his disdain for Rhaenyra. In some instances, you heard him even refer to Jace as "prince strong."

Despite knowing in your heart that you would have married Jace the moment he got down on one knee, you argue that it’s not just about father." Then what is it, he asks. "Jace, marrying you means one day becoming the queen," you tell him, hoping he understands. But the only response you got was an “And?”

Your father's words are now echoing in your head and you utter them word by word to Jace. How he deserved someone far more worthy, more strong-willed, more powerful. You were neither of those.

But Jace only shushes your words, holding your face in his hands. He speaks praises of you. How he believes you’ll make a good queen. You find it hard to believe. Then he says, "You're perfect," and it's difficult to accuse him of lying given the way he's looking at you.

He gazes at you with so much love, and before you know it. He kisses you. Oh, how you missed his lips, reaching your hands to the nape of his neck, returning his kiss with eagerness. This was wrong. But could you bring yourself to care when feeling his hands roam your body.

His lips leave yours soft and swollen. Grabbing your hands, kissing both of your knuckles. Then placing them on his chest, "It's beating for you," he says, "Only you." You found yourself inching near him, closing your eyes when your head lay against his chest.

You love Jace, truly love him. You love the smile he gives you when you enter the room. The way he surprises you with your favorite flowers. The way he pulls the seat out for you. The way he listens to all your rambles. The way he dries your tears. Would you have ever gotten that from Jakob or any other lord your father tries to marry you off.

On the other hand, you truly despise your father. Never understood and made an effort to learn the language of girls. So badly he wanted a son. Still, you thought you'd make him proud, being the ideal daughter, always obedient and polite.

So when you ask your father one thing-just one thing. To marry the prince and your father threw the offer in your face. Now you can rest easy, not caring about his disappointment any longer.

"Marry me." You finally utter the words. Whispered so low, but you could tell he heard them from his hands slightly tightening their grip on your sides. Opening your eyes to face him, "Take me to Dragonstone, make me your wife, Jacaerys." And now it’s you who leans in, grazing your lips over his while gently yet firmly holding his cheeks.

Jace returns your kiss intensely, desperately moving his mouth into yours; pouring his entire soul into it. His hands are back to exploring your body, holding you to him as humanly possible. A desire runs from your heart to your inner thighs.

He pulls away and you try to reach for his lips again, but he steps back. You're slightly perplexed when he starts to remove his cloak. Moving further away from the waves, he lays the cloak on the sand.

And the realization suddenly dawns on you. Here? Now? Even with the possibility of someone finding you. You cast your eyes over the distance where the funeral is still taking place. Still, you take Jace’s hand. Fuck it, you thought.

Laying your back on the cloak as he climbs on top of you. Feeling his nose nudging yours, you couldn’t help but smile and he returns it, kissing your nose. You tilt your head to allow your lips to meet again.

Then you sensed his hand reaching for the back of your dress as his fingers roughly pulled the strings holding it together. Your dress descends, revealing your shoulders to the prince. He presses a soft kiss to the skin exposed as he pulls the dress down further, barring your chest.

Your nipples harden when exposed to the cold air. Biting your lower lip at the way his eyes leer over them. No matter how many times he has seen them, he’s always entranced. With eyes closed, he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue darting out to wet the bud before sucking lightly. Gods, sometimes Jace Imagines what your breasts would look like if your belly was round with his child.

You ponder what the people of the realm would think if their future king was ever found sleeping with a widow whose husband's funeral was only a short distance away. Discovered on top of her, his mouth on her chest.

He closes his lips around your nipple as you exhale a low moan and tilt your head back. You’ve always been so sensitive to his touch as he was to yours. Low moans also slip out of his mouth, seeming to enjoy the act. Possibly even more than you did. Jace would be content to die buried between your legs or with his face between your cleavage. Either way, it’s heaven to him.

Pulling away, his lips graze yours, clumsily reaching his hands down to untie his trousers. Hearing him curse while struggling to loosen the tight laces makes you chuckle. Reaching to help him, an embarrassed thank you is said under his breath.

Briefly sitting on his knees to pull the trousers to his knees; cock already hard. He pulls your dress up all the way to your hip, exposing your cunt to him. As he reaches down to take hold of the top of his head, slowly pushing it inward an inch at a time, his body rests on yours once more.

Synced moans escape the two of you as his cock slides fully into you. All while, Jace presses tender kisses all over your face. His thrusts are slow, trying to get you to adjust his size. Jace grunts aloud as your walls tighten around him.

You give thanks to the gods that the two of you are far away. You see him biting his lip to contain his loud moans. Still, they can be heard throughout the chilly air. His mind goes numb the moment his cock is buried deep inside of you.

There are all sorts of words said by him; declarations of love, but all come out slurred as if he's in a drunken haze. His face is buried in the crook of your neck. Thrusting his body, his heavy moans are heard feeling his cock surge through your hole.

His thrusts are becoming sloppy. He's close. His finger moves down, circling your clit, wanting you to feel the same euphoria alongside him. His cock is deep enough, you can feel the head touching your cervix.

His lip begins to bleed between his teeth. He’s close. Yet he’s holding himself back, twitching inside of you. He wants you to reach your high first. Then when he feels your walls squirming. How fucking tight you’re. Louder whimpers coming from you. He knows you’re close, too. His fingers fasten in their movements against your clit.

An almost scream erupts from you as you reach your orgasm, eyes rolling back. Removing his wet fingers, leaving your cunt to your hips. Not even moments later, Jace came. Harshly digging his fingers into your hips, you were certain any harder and it would start to bruise.

His lips parted in almost broken sobs, chanting your name as though it were a martyr. He releases a spurt of cum, stuffing your cunt to the brim. A few more thrusts and Jace's body collapses on top of yours. Both bodies drenched in sweat even in the chilly air.

The only sounds that can be heard are Jace's chest heaving and distant wave sounds. The side of his head is resting against your chest as you run a hand through his hair. I love you. He kept saying it almost as if it were a mantra until he became too exhausted to speak. For some time, the two of you remain in this position, soaking up the silence.

When it's time for you to leave, your thighs are trembling, sticky with dried cum. The two of you try your best to present yourselves as neatly and cleanly as you can. Your hands are intertwined with Jace's as the two of you approach Daemon and Rhaenyra.

The two knew everything they needed to know from both of your swollen lips, Jace's messy hair, and the sand stuck to some of the clothes and skin. As Rhaenyra beams a friendly smile your way, Daemon muses, "I can assume she accepted the proposal." Jace catches your confused look. Were they all on this.

When it's time for the family to depart, you climb up atop Vermax while Jace holds you fast as the dragon soars overhead. You can just imagine your father's fury, his screams of rage, and the furniture he'll probably destroy in his way. You pity the messenger who has to inform your father about the wedding.

As you soar through the air, you ignore all of your thoughts when you feel the prince's chin rest on your shoulder. With the sun behind you, the wind blowing in your faces. Jace presses his lips to yours as you turn to face him and you part ways while smiling.

After this, Jace is truly in debt to his stepfather.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #yandere hotd #hotd smut #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #yandere x reader #yandere smut #smut #yandere headcanons #headcanons #dark!jacaerys velaryon #x reader #reader insert #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader

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youraverageaemondsimp · 5 months

Text

Taste of depravity. // DARK!Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon (Cole)!Reader (Criston's daughter.)

MDNI, reader discretion is advised.

Summary: Aemond knows he shouldn't want you, especially after finding out you that were Criston's daughter, who was his father figure his entire life, yet he can't help himself but to crave the sweet taste of sinfulness.

A/N: y'all he's dark but not the usual dark, he's just psychotic(?) Idk. No noncon, but he's extremely obsessive towards her, and criston is stressed tf out. // divider credit: @cafekitsune

WARNINGS: dark!aemond, p in v sex, unprotected sex, biting, breeding kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, virginity loss, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving), face sitting, manhandling, profanity, reader is a bastard, aemond insults reader for being a bastard, he gets off of her suffering, he's insane, stressed dad criston, traumatic encounters by criston, dilemma, angst(?), fluff, reader is described to resemble criston so she has dark hair and eyes but no color is explicitly stated, + not proofread.

WC: 7k

Criston walked through the hallways of the red keep, armour clinking against each other as he walked towards a person's chamber who he swore to never involve himself with again.

Rhaenyra.

It wasn't the sudden love for her that made him do this, no, in fact he never even loved her, he had only realised after whatever happened on the ship with her.

It was guilt.

Guilt that he had stained his white cloak, guilt that he wasn't able to refuse, because the power imbalance between them was way too high, he couldn't risk it, burning all his efforts just because of refusing a princess.

He couldn't say no.

He was disgusted with himself afterwards.

He tried to pretend it was love to no avail, convincing himself that Rhaenyra didn't just use him for sexual pleasure, that he wasn't just an object or someone to discard, he believed that she loved him.

But none of that was true.

The events that followed along were obvious, she was married off to Laenor, and recently returned to the keep, pregnant with her fourth child.

It was only then Criston noticed the eldest child.

You.

He tried to think you were the same as Jacaerys and Lucerys, a rumoured bastard born to Ser Harwin Strong, Anyone can easily mistake you for his child itself, but not Criston.

The timing did not add up.

And neither did your features resemble Harwin Strong's.

Dark hair and dark eyes.

Features of him.

There was only one answer, and he wanted to be sure himself.

Which is what led him to visit Rhaenyra, something he would've never done in a thousand years to come.

He sighed heavily, knocking on the door, the guard allotted to her chamber looked at him suspiciously before announcing his presence, to say Rhaenyra was shocked is an understatement, she immediately opened the door, a hand resting on her stomach.

“Ser Criston.”

“Princess.” he greets her by bowing his head.

“Princess- I must speak with you, if you'll allow it.” his tone told her everything, and she looked around, before signalling Laenor, who was in the room, to take the boys to the training yard while she let him in.

He tried not to remember the last time, of what happened when he was with her.

“What is the issue?” she asks him, not wasting anymore time.

“Might I speak plainly, princess?” he asks, face stoic, he looks at him for a moment before nodding, and he takes a deep breath.

“Is she mine?”

Silence falls in between both of them, the way she clenches her jaw doesn't go unnoticed by him, and he clenches his teeth as he swallows thickly, bracing himself for the answer.

He already knew it.

He just needed confirmation.

“Yes.”

And that was enough to send all the waves crashing down on him, he stood there, breathing heavily, it felt as though there had been even more weight placed upon him, more than before.

He looks down, and bows.

“Thank you for your honesty, princess.” He says, “Ser Criston, please do not let this get out.” she pleads to him and he thinks for a moment. “Rest assured princess, I will not speak of this to anyone, for it will sully my reputation as it will do yours.” he says sternly and turns on his feet to leave.

His walk down to the training yard was swift, he was behind his allotted time to train the young princes due to this ordeal, yet he couldn't bring himself to care, all he could think about was you.

He stopped in his tracks down the stairs when he spotted you with your younger brothers, playing around with the wooden sword, they were clearly not training since he was their main instructor, just playing around.

He noticed how you smiled brightly, pretending to stab Jace and he fell, committing to his act of being stabbed by you, “Oh no more princess! I beg your mercy.” he played pretend, which made you giggle.

Then you heard a scoff.

You turned to see who it was, only to find your uncle, Aemond, looking at you with raised eyebrows as if he was judging you.

He was.

“Girls aren't allowed to train here.” he simply says, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he relaxes his grip on the sword before holding it placed down in front of him, leaning both his hands against it.

You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to speak up and reply to him but you are immediately cut off by Criston cole.

“Don't stand too upright my prince, you'll get knocked down.” he interferes with an advice for him, and you close your mouth before giving the wooden sword to Jacaerys.

“Ser Criston, May I stay and watch?” You ask him, eyes wide and pleading.

Normally he would refuse.

Normally.

But this situation was anything but normal.

“I already told you, girls are not allowed here–”

“Yes you may, princess.” He cuts Aemond off, and Aemond rolls his eyes while you smile widely at Criston, “But for your safety, please stand far away.” He tells you and you nod, immediately standing as far as possible.

Criston sighs before beginning the training for the boys.

It has almost become a routine for you, watching them train, Criston allowed you to stay and watch, much to everyone's surprise.

You had been hanging out with the boys, using the excuse of keeping a watch over your younger brothers as an excuse, Aemond did not like this however.

This obviously meant you were spending more time with Criston, it was fun being around him, when the boys would warm up for their training he would occasionally tell you about his achievements.

He has no idea why he's doing all of that, he could just ignore you, but he couldn't bring himself to.

It was a fine day, you were in the dragonpit with your brothers and uncles, Jace was learning new commands for his dragon, and you watched boredly, not understanding the obsession with dragons, you did not have one of your own, but you did not care.

Everything was going well, till you noticed Aemond, looking annoyed and wanting to be anywhere else but here, you obviously knew about his obsessions with wanting a dragon, it wasn't unknown.

The young prince's egg never hatched, leaving him without a dragon. You felt bad, knowing it must be tough to be the only one who has no dragon to ride, except you, but you had long given up the idea of wanting a dragon and accepted that you might not ever have one.

His public interest and the desire for always wanting a dragon so badly was what led to this moment, which altered him forever.

Aegon, Jace and Luke decided that it would be funny to mock him.

So they dressed up a pig and presented it to him, pretending it is a dragon while laughing loudly.

You did not find the situation funny at all, your brothers both laughed cruelly, along with Aegon who made the pig noises, you couldn't even bring yourself to let out an awkward chuckle, because you knew how this situation was incredibly mean.

Aemond obviously wasn't laughing, instead he stared at the pig before swallowing thickly, blinking rapidly, you remained silent, observing him. Prince Aegon left whilst mocking him, laughing along with your brothers and exiting the pit while you stayed back, and watched Aemond, who just seemed to be staring at the pig.

“Uncle? I-”

“Don't.” He cuts you off, his voice trembling, as if he was moments away from crying.

He was.

“Aemond.” You stand next to him, you watch as he shoots a glare at you, gritting his teeth.

“Are you here to rub salt on the wound?” His voice was laced with venom and hatred even though it was trembling.

“Why are you always speaking to me like that? I've never been anything but nice to you. Let me guess, you are going to assume that it was I who planned this as well?” You snap, words spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them, his eyes widened.

“I wouldn't be surprised if it was you, after all, it would be your way of getting back at me.” He shakes his head.

“I would never do that to you.” you mumble, which causes his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise, “I know- well at least I think I do know- what it feels like to not have a dragon, mine didn't hatch either, Aemond.” you try to comfort him.

“It is just that, I simply do not care, I've accepted it.” You shrug, and he scoffs, “A true Targaryen is to have a dragon, I can understand why it wouldn't hatch for you- cause you're... plain.” He stops himself mid sentence, clearing his throat. You look down, fidgeting with your fingers as the air turns awkward, you expected Aemond to leave but he instead stays.

“I- I did not mean it that way, I simply meant that we are both different individuals, not having a dragon might not bother you, but it bothers me, it is a big deal for me, especially if even someone who is a wastrel like my brother has one.” He speaks up and you look at him, maintaining eye contact with him.

You don't know what came over you, but you suddenly grab his hands and hold them tight, “You will have a dragon one day.” you reassure him and he looks down, “You think so?” He asks and you nod, “I'm sure of it.” You smile but he doesn't return that smile.

He simply grabs your hand before turning around and leaving the dragonpit.

To say things changed between you and Aemond since that day would be an overstatement, his behaviour towards you remained the same, except this time it feels as though he is purposefully saying hurtful things, to get a reaction from you.

Is this what you get for being kind?

Yes.

But something did slightly change.

It was the way Aemond looked at you.

He might be mean, but he immediately comes to your defence when it is not him who is doing the mockery.

You learnt it when Aegon was mocking you and Aemond stepped in, defending you, same with your brothers, who would sometimes crack jokes that would be way too over the line, only to have Aemond shut them down.

You had mixed feelings about this.

It was a normal training day, you watched as Criston trained the boys, deciding to focus more on Aegon and Aemond instead of Jace and Luke, but it didn't matter since they were also learning along.

Until a certain presence had come in.

Harwin Strong.

You watched the interaction happen, the air became intense as Criston felt insulted, not wishing to take any criticism from someone from city watch.

Then they fought, Harwin threw punches at Cristons face until he was stopped by the guards, “You act as if you're any better, your attention towards the princess is also quite the unique thing.” Is what Harwin slowly said on top of him, but everyone was too scared and focused on the fight to stop to even care.

Things started to go downhill from then onwards.

Aemond and you have gotten slightly closer and things seemed to be less intense between you both, that was until your mother whisked you and your siblings away to dragonstone.

Criston was devastated, angry but he couldn't do anything about it, nor stop it.

Until driftmark.

He got to see you again, you stood there beside rhaenyra and your siblings watching as the funeral progressed, and clearly understanding the venomous words Vaemond aimed at your family.

Criston fought the urge to leave Alicents side and instead spend it with you, he wants to be closer to you, he wants you to remember him, maybe one day you'll even find out that he is your father, and when you do, he doesn't want you to be disappointed in him.

He made many plans, that if everything went well then your family would visit the keep often.

Of course until Lucerys took Aemond's eye.

He knew the drift between both sides of the family was clearer than ever, especially after Alicent lunged at Rhaenyra in anger with a knife.

Aemond did his best to interfere.

To everyone's surprise, when you came to realise what happened, you immediately sped to Aemond's side, and looked at his face before wincing at the raw sight, he was holding his mother before he turned and his gaze fell upon you.

Your lips trembled slightly as you looked at him softly and with pity, but he didn't return anything back, not even a scowl.

And that would be your last interaction with Aemond, or anyone on that side of that family at all.

Up until years later.

Many years have passed, and Criston tried to forget about everything, but he couldn't. Instead, as the years went by, he grew more worried but curious, he wondered if you'd grown into a woman, he wondered if you look even more like him now.

Luckily all his questions would be answered when he found out that your family would be returning to the keep, as Vaemond had made a petition against Lucerys.

Aemond was far too excited to see you too again, he remembers taking nothing but pleasure in the expressions you'd make when he'd be mean to you, they were forever etched into his memory.

Since the incident from the driftmark, Aemond grew into a much more calculated yet even more mean of a person, his words would be laced towards venom against the ones he despised, dripping ever so sweetly from his tongue.

Your arrival was anticipated by both the men patiently.

And day had arrived just like they hoped, you stepped into the walls of the red keep once again, yet everything seemed to lose its familiarity with the family sigils being replaced to that of the seven.

You did not come across both of them till the next day, until you went into the training yard with your brothers, you watched as they reminisced and smiled, you looked over the spot you always stood whenever you would watch them train, the spot looking smaller since you've grown in height.

However you felt the stares of the people prod at your back and you looked at them to see all of them whispering about your and your siblings obviously non valyrian features.

You try not to let it get to you, and distract Luke from the judgemental gazes, considering how he's already been feeling insecure due to the petition.

That was until you heard a noise in the background, and watched as the people gathered in a shape resembling a circle, you quickly patted Jace and Luke and gestured to them to come with you to watch what was going on.

You immediately spotted the familiar face of Ser Criston Cole, making a wide smile appear on your face as you watched him sway his weapon against who you weren't sure was Aegon or Aemond as the back was turned.

Ser Criston hasn't changed since the last time you saw him, you watch as he swung his weapon towards the Prince, and he countered that attack and blocked it with his sword, causing Criston to withdraw his weapon and take the Prince's previous spot, which lead to the Prince now facing you.

You immediately recognized him the moment you spotted that eyepatch, sitting snugly over his left eye.

Aemond.

Something about seeing him like that made heat travel down your body, is this what they call desire? You swallow thickly. He has indeed grown into a very handsome man, the loss of his did nothing but elevate his looks even further.

The trial match soon came to an end, with Aemond's blade pointing towards Criston's collarbones.

“Well done my Prince, you'll be winning tourneys in no time.” Criston praises, “I don't give a shit about tourneys.” Aemond answers while regulating his breathing, his grip loosens on the sword as his eye lands on you and your siblings, “Nephews,” the sword in his hand is spun slightly as he lowers it, “'Have you come to train?” he asks and that's when Criston's attention turns towards you and his eyes widens.

Jace's throat tightens as he tries to form a reply, not expecting Aemond to be this well trained over the years.

“Niece.” Aemond addresses you next and you look at him, “It has been a while.” He comments, his eye scanning your figure from toe to head, before his lips twitch, forming into a smirk.

“It has, Aem— Uncle.” you reply, cutting yourself off before you spoke his name.

“Princess.” Criston greets you and you smile, “Ser Criston, It is a pleasure to see you again.” you tell him and he nods, giving you a tight lipped smile. He's noticed how you resemble him even more now, which makes him happy but also fear.

“OPEN THE GATES!” you hear a distant voice yell and watch as the gates open.

Vaemond Velaryon enters the premises with guards around him, the chatter and everything falls to silence as the only noise now that can be heard are the footsteps of the guards as they accompany him.

The way he looks at Luke doesn't go unnoticed, causing already shaken up Luke to shiver further in fear, but you hold his hand, reassuring him.

You travel to your chambers patiently and prepare yourselves for the court hearing that would likely be held in a few hours, you sit down and pace around the chambers that were given to you when you had arrived here.

You hear the sound of a stone sliding in your chambers and you turn around to see none other than your uncle aemond emerging from behind a tapestry in the chamber.

“Aemond? What are you doing here? You shouldn't enter a lady's room like that.” You question him, calling him by his name instead of uncle like you did earlier.

He makes his way over to you, his presence was intimidating as he looked over to you. “Pardon my rudeness but how can I contain myself when my niece, who I haven't seen for the past few years appears in front of me?” He quirks up an eyebrow, his eye scans your figure once again, but this time, his gaze lingering more on your breasts before he meets your eyes once again.

“Especially when she's all grown?”

“When the object of both my desire and ire is right in front of me, how can I not?” His hands rest on your hips, and your mouth falls open.

“You are being inappropriate-” You protest.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you did not feel something when you first saw me.”

Fuck.

You thought you covered it well.

“What? Did I catch the cat in the act?” He mocks you and you glare at him, one of his hands travels to your cheek, tilting your head upwards before he descends his lips on your own.

You're shocked at what he's doing, but you don't protest, your mind becomes hazy as he continues kissing you, lips moving against yours in a rhythm, he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance and to your own surprise, you allow him to by slightly parting your lips open.

The kiss elevates further from there, his tongue fighting against yours as you kiss him back, your hands grip his shoulders as leverage while his own grab your waist pulling you close, it gets rougher, hungrier but more passionate.

He pulls away for air looking at you while breathing heavily, you hold him by the face and pull him into a kiss again and he returns it immediately.

Your head spins as Aemond walks you backward until your back comes in contact with a wall, his grip tightens on you further, he pins your hands above your head as pulls away, and you look at him with pleading eyes, your lips swollen from the kiss.

“Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful for a bastard.” He comments and you frown, “Everyone knows, they just don't say it in front of you.” He says meanly, “I could have your tongue for that.” You threaten him but he smirks, “Hmm? Really?” He mockingly questions and you try to glare at him, but it doesn't seem much threatening.

His free hand hikes your skirts up, and travels upwards to your cunt, you gasp when you feel his cool fingers press up against your clit, then travel slightly downwards where your wetness was beginning to leak from.

“Don't fucking tell me you're getting wet all because I called you a bastard?” He questions, and you try to deny it but your body betrays you by making you clench your thighs together in arousal, he chuckles meanly and you bite your lip to try and fight the humiliation you are feeling.

“You seem to like it when I'm fucking mean to you, don't you? Seriously, you're getting wet from this.” You heave when you feel him pinch your clit, pulling on it meanly, causing you to squirm.

“Yes, yes you fucking do.” He growls.

“Aemond-” You choke out his name and he replies with a hum, “Hm?” He peppers kisses against your neck as you try to form sentences but you cannot seem to do so because of the way his fingers are rubbing small circles onto your clitoris.

“We s-shouldn't— it's unseemly of us oh–? ahh—! fuck.” You throw your head back against the wall when you feel him insert a finger into your awaiting entrance, He slowly moves it in and out, he lets go of your hands which were pinned to the wall, causing them to immediately fall on his shoulders in an attempt to balance yourself.

His free hand trails down to your bodice, he pulls the material down, freeing your breasts, he mutters a curse before peppering kisses to the flesh, and biting harshly which chokes out a whine from your throat. He pulls away and watches as the shape of his teeth get imprinted into the flesh of your breast, marking you.

His mouth then descends onto your nipple, you let out a loud and a lewd moan when you feel his finger curl up and hit the sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously his tongue flicks and plays with your bud.

He inserts another finger inside slowly, stretching you on them and your grip on his shoulder tightens, nails digging into the material of his clothes.

“Are you a maiden?” He asks you suddenly, pulling away from your nipple and you look at him for a second, processing what he said before nodding shyly, which causes him to smirk. “No wonder why you are clenching around my fingers so tightly, Relax.”

He speeds up his pace, hitting the sweet spot over and over again, you clench your eyes shut when you feel a type of tightening begin to form into your lower abdomen.

“Open your eyes.” He commands, you obey and look him directly in the eye, “Good, I want you to look at me when you peak.” He kisses your cheek, and as if right on cue, your orgasm hits you like a sudden storm.

Everything around you feels hot as the pleasure ripples through your entire being, making you moan his name out loud.

He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, letting you ride your orgasm out before placing a kiss to your lips and pulling his fingers out, letting your skirts fall back to place again, and puts the same fingers in his mouth, licking up the evidence of your essence, a satisfactory hum leaves his mouth.

Before he could advance any further, there is a knock on your chamber door, before he watches it slightly open, quick on his feet, he swiftly leaves your chambers through the secret passageway, and you try to fix your clothing, pulling up the material back up to your breasts and patting down your hair.

You watch as the knight enters your chamber and bows to you, “Princess, the court session is about to take place, your presence has been requested.” he tells you and nods, clearing your throat, “I shall be there.” He bows his head before leaving the room and you quickly fix up your appearances before leaving your chambers.

Heart racing at the thought that you both would've been caught if you hadn't reacted quickly.

Aemond, in an attempt to move to his chambers quickly, accidentally took the wrong route and ended up on the path to the small council room, which he figured out when he heard the voices of his mother and Ser criston.

“What do you mean by this criston?” He was about to turn back but halts when he hears his mother talk. “I have noticed your attention on the eldest daughter of rhaenyra, are you infatuated with her?” Alicent asks plainly, voice laced with concern. “No- my queen, she-” Aemond hears Criston sigh, “I suppose I cannot hide it any longer.” This makes Aemond grit his teeth, did Criston actually like you? He couldn't let Criston have you.

“She is my daughter.”

“What?”

What?

Aemond's eye widens as he hears those words leave his mouth, and Alicent is shocked as well. “How long have you known this for?” Alicent questions, “For many years, few months before driftmark.” He tells her, “I apologise my queen, I should've told you it immediately but- I was concerned for her safety.” He confesses and bows his head in shame.

“All is forgiven Ser Criston, Was this from the time you had laid with rhaenyra?” She continues to ask and he nods, “I am glad it is just that, because I plan to betroth Aemond to her, and with what you've just revealed to me, I think I can confidently go through with this.” She tells Criston of her plans, and this satisfies Aemond very much, but there is the fact that he cannot look at you the same anymore, for you were the daughter of someone who was his father figure his entire life.

Besides, he wondered what would Cristons reaction be if he found out what Aemond actually did to you mere moments ago.

“Prince Aemond? Your grace, I do not question your decision, but they don't seem very close, from what I remember, he had always seemed quite rude towards her.” Criston speaks up, he tries not to show the distaste for the choice as he has no say in this, because he cannot rightfully claim you as his daughter. “They will make up eventually, they're both grown ups now, I'm sure they'd put their childish quarrels aside.” Alicent answers him, Criston bites his lip, preventing himself from saying anything. “Besides, she is next in line to the throne, I know there will be complications if we crowned aegon, so we'll retreat and let Rhaenyra rule, after that, Y/N will ascend, at first I was reluctant to have a bastard on the throne, but I changed my mind after your confession.” Alicent reveals her true motives to him which makes Criston internally punch himself for revealing that, he still thinks Aemond isn't the right man for you.

“It is not uncommon knowing that after their marriage- she will eventually give birth to Aemond's children, his heirs, our blood, and they will definitely inherit the throne right after her, putting our blood on the throne.” Criston nods as he listens to Alicent speak.

They fall silent for a bit thinking through it.

“My Queen, the court session is starting.” A guard comes inside the council to inform her, Aemond immediately goes back to his room before cleaning and composing himself and then making his way to the throne room.

The court session was progressing, with Vaemond backing up his reasons to sign a petition against Lucerys, and everyone in court listened intently.

But Aemond's attention is somewhere else, on you, who is currently squirming under his gaze, trying to avoid it, this makes Aemond smirk a little, with all he had overheard from his mother, he could only think of one thing.

You bearing his heirs.

How amazing you'd look with your stomach swollen, carrying his seed deep inside you, this thought alone makes his cock ache.

It was one boring session, until Viserys arrived, and knowing Vaemond had nothing to lose anymore, considering he already lost, he chose to direct vile insults towards you, your brothers and your mother, which led to Vaemond's head partially being cut off by Daemon.

This shocked everyone and Viserys fell weakly onto the chair.

“And one more final— hh. thing.” He wheezes out, “The queen- has proposed a. be- be-brothal between Aemond and Y/N, w-w-which. i. hh accept, it is a perfect way to reunite our drifted houses.” He manages to get the words out. Your gaze turns towards Aemond whose smile just got bigger and you look away immediately blush creeping up your cheeks, frankly, all you could think about was his fingers inside you.

Viserys ends up having a coughing fit, which causes Alicent to panic and scream for the maesters.

Viserys doesn't seem to have left more than a few moons to survive, so they plan a wedding in one moons time, to have the king witness it before he dies, and also so that Rhaenyra can't go back and change her decision.

Dinner that night went peacefully, with Aemond right beside you, Aemond was too focused on you to the point he didn't notice how Lucerys chuckled when the pig had come in, you did, so you shot him a stern but warning gaze, which made him shut up.

You were back in your chambers again, the maids undid your hair, letting it fall freely and got you ready into your bed clothes, you decided to sit by the fire and read a book when you heard the familiar sound of a stone sliding again.

You lifted your head and found Aemond, also in his bed clothes who was coming towards where you sat, “What are you reading?” He asks and before you can close the book, he snatches it from you and views it.

“A caution for young girls?” The name alone is enough to make blush creep up your cheeks, “If I remember correctly, isn't this book forbidden?” He teases and you get up from your seat and grab the book from his hand, turning away from him before placing it on the table.

“What do you want?” You ask, not bothering to turn back.

His arms snake around your waist and wrapping them around it, he nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck and places kisses on it, “I think you know what I want very well.” He mutters, still kissing your neck.

“I'm afraid I don't.” You try to play clueless, not wanting to react to what he's saying but all of that comes crumbling down when he gropes your breast before squeezing it tightly. “Don't you?” He questions and turns you to make you face him.

His hand moves to your cheek, “You want me to remind you? Where we left off?” He asks and you stare into his eye, not speaking anything, trying to deny him. That doesn't last long when he presses his lips against yours, and once again you're kissing him back, he is just so addictive.

He suddenly pulls away, and throws you over his shoulder, catching you off guard and makes his way towards your bed before throwing you on it, causing you to bounce slightly.

“I cannot hold back anymore.” He hovers over your form, trying to contain himself, “Don't.” that one singular word leaving his mouth was enough to break his restraint, and before you know it, he's on top of you kissing your face, neck, breasts as he paws at your nightgown, trying to remove it off you.

Frustrated, he tears it off your body, ripping it into shreds before throwing the fallen pieces away.

Your body is in full view to him now, you feel so vulnerable yet aroused, you rub your thighs together to soothe the ache forming in between them. “Spread them.” He speaks and you're confused until you realise he means your legs, you feel ashamed to do so. “Did you not hear me? Spread those fucking legs.” His voice becomes impatient now, causing you to spread your legs.

You lay there, humiliation poking every inch of your body as he remains silent, staring at your cunt, you shiver when you feel the cold breeze hit your core, and then suddenly Aemond moves swiftly, giving you not enough time to realise what he was doing.

“Wha—” your question is cut off short when you feel his warm mouth on your sex, making you shriek in surprise when his tongue laps at your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves up and down, “Seven fucking hells, you taste divine.” he mutters against your cunt before devouring it once more, his tongue prods at your entrance, before entering inside you, whenever he moved, his nose would bump against your clit causing stimulation.

He suddenly pulls away and lays down next to you before pulling you on top of him, you end up straddling his waist and lay your arms on his chest as support. “Sit on my face.” He demands, “But-”

“Did I fucking stutter? Sit. On. My. Face.” He growls and cuts you off, making you shiver and you obey him changing positions to where your cunt is hovering right above his mouth, his warm breath hitting it.

He grabs your thighs harshly, annoyed at your reluctance and pushes your cunt into his mouth before lapping at it like a man starved, you throw your head back at the pleasure.

You move your hips unknowingly to aid your building pleasure, and it is when he nips at your clit that you feel your peak coursing through your lower body, you choke out a moan of his name.

He once again changes position by laying you on your back and moving up a little, his lips meet yours again, and you wince at the tangy taste of your own juices.

Aemond pulls away, “Gosh, I can't believe a bastard like you has me fucking cunt struck.” He whispers in your ear, “D-don't call me that.” you tell him, “But you seemed to to fucking like it earlier.” You stay quiet to that, not wanting to admit it.

“I know of your tastes my lovely niece, do you even know who your father is?” He asks and you shake your head no, “It's Ser Criston Cole.” He tells you and you look at him shocked, “I overheard him talking to my mother earlier, how does it feel? Lady Cole?” and you remain quiet.

Ser Criston Cole was your father?

It all made sense now.

“But enough of that, your attention should be on me.” He grabs you by your cheeks, squeezing them, “My dirty little whore of a bastard, with a cunt so divine that it puts gods to shame.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself, letting me do all of this to you, do you have no dignity? you're crumbling the moment I try to do something.” He says meanly and tears prick at the corner of your eyes, it wasn't anything new, he had always been this way, ever since he was young, you knew this was humiliating, you knew this was insulting, seven hells, you're even almost crying at his words, yet you can't help but get wet at everything he's saying.

“You're mine, you have always been mine, got it? mine to mock, push you around, fuck, breed and do whatever as I please.” He growls, you lay there and nod, “Gods, it feels so good to be so mean to you, I hate to admit it, but I love seeing you cry.” He wipes the tear that has escaped your eye with his thumb before putting the very same thumb into his mouth and tasting it.

He pushes you further up the bed, before he sits back, he undoes his breeches, and pulls it off along with his tunic, leaving him bare just like you, and you swore that the gods favoured him much more than others, his body seemed as if it was sculpted and moulded personally by the smith himself.

He spreads your legs wide before placing himself between them, his cock rubbing against your folds, “Do you want my cock so bad? Your cunt is fucking weeping for it.” He questions and you nod, “Use your words.” He orders you, and you swallow, “I want your cock.” You speak slowly.

“Beg for it.” He smirks when he sees your eyes widen, and you take a deep breath, trying to form words, he taps your clit with his cock causing you to squirm, “Please-” You managed to choke out. “Please what?”

“Please—! Please I want your cock inside me so fucking badly.” You say, and that is enough for Aemond before he positions his tip at your entrance. “This is going to hurt okay?” He tells you, and you nod.

And gods did it hurt.

His cock was too big, the stretch was unbearably painful, yet Aemond was patient, pushing in slowly and slowly until he was fully sheathed, it took him every grain of control to not start ramming into you like a wild beast, especially the way your cunt was clenching around him, he breathed heavily, letting you relax and adjust to him.

“I'm going to move, stop me if it's too painful.” He tells you and you stare at him, “I thought you found joy in my pain.” you mutter which makes him chuckle, “I do, but even i have my limits, and this is where I draw the line.” He tells you, which makes you smile, “You can move now, Uncle.” you tease and he grits his teeth before drawing his hips back and thrusting into you harshly, you wince as the first few thrusts cause you slight pain, until you relax and eventually get used to it, and slowly get pleasure from it.

But this pace wasn't enough.

“Faster- Aemond–” You heave out as your body jerks up and down beneath, and just like you pleaded, he swiftly increases the speed. “You're a filthy fucking bastard, you know that?” Aemond sneers at you, grabbing you by the cheeks as he brutally thrusts into you. “Answer me.” he groans into your ear and you nod, earning a light slap from him on your cheeks, “With words.” he growls.

“Yes, I- know!” you moan when you feel the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot, hands gripping the linen sheets tightly as he bullies your hole. “And who does this filthy bastard belong to?” He asks, sickeningly sweet, hands leaving your cheek to grip at your breast, twirling your nipple in between his thumb and index finger.

“Y-You.” You gasp when you feel his hand trail down to your cunt and press up against your bundle of nerves before rubbing small and gentle circles on it, elevating your pleasure. “Good girl, you're so good for me, aren't you? Good for your uncle, you'll let me breed you right?”

“Hmm–! Yes! I'll let you breed me– oh fuck right there– yes–” You throw your head back against the bed as you feel him hitting and ramming into your sweet spot again and again and before you know it, your peak is ripped through you brutally, causing you to clench around his cock, making him moan loudly.

“Fuck-” and with a gasp, Aemond finishes inside you, his hot spend coating your inner walls, creating a warm feeling, he slowly rides his orgasm out, staying in until his cock begins to soften.

“You'll look so beautiful with my children, your breasts will swell with milk, and I'll indulge myself in them, because you're mine, you belong to me and I shall do as I please with you, and you'll let me right?” He asks and you nod, “Such a fucking pretty bastard, and my soon to be wife.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

He pulls you into his arms and you both fall asleep, too tired to even clean up because of the eventful day.

A month later.

To say Criston was disappointed would be an understatement, he didn't hate Aemond, but he didn't like him to the point where he would watch his only child, that too who he cannot claim openly, be wedded off to him.

But at least you look happy and content with him.

After the vows were said and you were officially declared as Aemond's wife, Criston left the scene not being able to control his emotions, he stood at the very same place where he almost took his life, gazing up into the sky, “Ser Criston?” He heard your voice and immediately turned to you, “Princess.” He bows, “You can drop the formalities.” You tell him with a smile and he looks at you questioningly, “Fathers shouldn't be formal with their daughters after all.” You explain and his eye widens before he looks around to see if anyone heard that.

“You- know it?” He chokes, not being able to hold back his tears anymore. You nod “Aemond told me.” You tell him, and he immediately hugs you and you return the hug, “I am sorry, I failed you, but I had my own reasons, even then, I still apologise, I wish I had been there for you more.” He cries and you pull away from the hug, “It is fine, I can understand.” you reassure him and he smiles at you.

Everything seemed to have ended happily.

Though there was that one thought which Criston had that was immediately forgotten when you pulled him back to the wedding.

How did Aemond even come to know of it?

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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hs-is-loml · 1 year

Text

Bound. (a.t)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Fem!Reader (minor oc descriptions)

Summary: you didn't realize when you stood beside aemond during the night when he lost his eye would solidify your stance in the war.

Warnings: death, murder, angst, fluff between aemond and reader, betrothals, incestual relationship uncle/niece, little family drama (UNEDITED)

a/n: i wanted to get this out before i watched episode ten later. which will determine whether or not i write a part two to this.

word count: 5.5k

all translations of high valyrian come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist - as i am yours (part two)

It was always a deep regret in your heart that you could do anything to save his eye during the fight. He never held any resentment towards you though as you stood by your place to his side. You could never fight against your siblings, and Aemond knew that. Though he continued to taunt them, you stood quietly next to him not meeting anyone’s eye.

You could recall that night so vividly. The chaos of everything. The questioning of who was right and who was wrong. Trying to decide whether you made the right choice of standing next to your betrothed in his defense. Your family might hate you now, but you got a family out of it in more ways than one.

FLASHBACK

“Aemond, this is worrying to me,” you expressed your concern as you both made your way toward Vhagar to see if Aemond could claim her.

She was a free dragon as of the death of your Aunt/Stepmother Lady Laena Velaryon, and no one has yet to take claim of her more so bond with her. You knew that your half-sister would be furious at the revelation that Aemond was to be the next rider of Vhagar. In all honesty in your mind, it was her fault thinking no one would want to claim the most powerful/largest dragon in the realm.

You knew that you were the creation of an affair between your mother Rhaenyra and your biological father Daemon. Everyone knew you were with your hair being as bright as snow and bold violet eyes with your fair complexion. Though you were legitimized by the King himself, so no one dared ever call you a bastard to your face.

Ser Laenor was also your father who raised you and brought you up. You loved him as a father and knew how hard his sister’s death hurt him. You two would visit them on dragon back with Seasmoke and Silverwing allowing you to get to know your biological father and half-sisters. Daemon had a hard way to show that he cared for someone, but you were his jewel.

He would teach you more complex High Valyrian and teach you about your ancestors. Always telling you that it was important for you to me in the knowledge of those before you when you were to take the throne. Which made Baela and Rhaena envious of the favoring of their father towards you.

Though Daemon cared for you as his daughter when you visited him, he did not pay any mind to you outside of it. Always so hot and cold. Never allowing himself to get too attached to anyone. Making you more in favor of your stepfather Laenor. Who taught you how to swim on the shores of Driftmark, unbraided your hair before saying goodnight, taught you the basics of bonding with a dragon, and took you on rides with Seasmoke when you were too little to ride Silverwing.

“There is nothing to worry about, and I would never let anything happen to you,” Aemond reassured you taking your hand as the two of you got closer to Vhagar.

“Aemond be careful, I will not lose my betrothed over a dragon claim,” you squeezed his hand before letting go allowing him to approach the large she-dragon.

“Dohaeras! Dohaeras, Vhagar! Lykiri! Lykiri!” Aemond shouted to the dragon as Vhagar growled in his presence. (Serve! Serve, Vhagar! Calm down!) “Lykiri.”

You watched in anticipation, scared for Aemond’s life. To your relief, Vhagar seemed to be accepting Aemond as she allowed him to climb to her back.

“Soves! Dohaeras, Vhagar! Soves!” he yelled out commands to the dragon. (Fly! Serve, Vhagar! Fly!)

As Vhagar and Aemond took flight, you waited for his return watching the beautiful dragon’s wings spread amongst the sky. It seemed like an eternity before you saw them rearing back to where you awaited. Vhagar landed with a loud grunt letting Aemond climb back down on her wing.

“I knew you were always meant for amazing things,” you admitted to Aemond as continued to bond with Vhagar. He put his forehead to rest against the dragon’s cheek.

“Come here.”

“Aemond, you must be joking,” you nervously let out, staying in your place.

“Come here, love. She won’t hurt you, I promise,” Aemond said as he reached out his hand to you, beckoning you to come closer.

“Rytsas, Vhagar,” you greeted the dragon, taking Aemond’s hand, and staying close to his side. (Hello, Vhagar)

Aemond took your hand in his grasp and laid your palm against Vhagar’s cheek which radiated heat. Vhagar purred at the attention both you and Aemond were giving her. You enjoyed this moment shared between the three of you. You leaned your head against Aemond’s shoulder looking up at him as he relished in the fact he finally had his own dragon.

“Maybe when we get back home we can take Vhagar and Silverwing on a ride together,” he suggested as you two made your way back inside the High Tide.

“It’s him,” they gasped at the sight of Aemond and you.

“It’s me,” Aemond mocked.

“Vhagar is my mother's dragon.”

“Your mother's dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now,” Aemond stated in arrogance.

“She was mine to claim.”

“Then you should've claimed her!” Aemond shouted in thinning patience. You stood behind him keeping your head down as your siblings continued to yell and argue with your betrothed.

“Y/N, come here,” Jace commanded to you as he saw Aemond shield you from them.

“Jacaerys, you do not command her to do anything unless it is of her free will,” Aemond defended you as your siblings looked at you with disgust for siding with their “enemy.”

The chaos surrounding you came with the overwhelming feeling of guilt of not knowing who to stand by and defend. Causing you to be frozen in your place as they started to fight. You saw punches getting thrown around and how they all ganged up on Aemond.

“Baela, Jacaerys, stop it,” you shouted as you saw them go against Aemond. “Aemond, no!” you continued as you saw Lucerys’ nose bleed profusely from Aemond’s hit.

You were paying so much attention to them that you didn’t see Rhaena coming up to you ready to strike. You only realized when you felt the slap against your cheek.

“How dare you stand next to him instead of your family,” she yelled at you in disappointment. “Father will be so disappointed in you,” she said as if it seemed like you cared so much about your parents’ approval.

Everything seemed to slow down as you heard Aemond yell in pain, you turned in a hurry to try and attend to Aemond. That’s when you saw Lucerys holding a blade and you felt yourself sink down to your knees beside Aemond taking his head on your lap.

“What have you done?!” you shouted at them. “A disgrace upon all of you,” you cursed them cradling Aemond and trying to do your best to comfort him.

Aemond continued to groan in pain as you ripped a portion of your cloak to help stop the bleeding in his eye. The others continued to scream at you and Aemond which you paid no mind to.

“CEASE THIS AT ONCE!” Ser Harrold came rushing in separating your siblings from you and Aemond.

“GET AWAY!” you screamed as you noticed them quieting down but unmoving.

“My Prince, my Prince. Let me see,” Ser Harrold approached you two. “Gods be good.”

You stayed by Aemond’s side as the maesters attended to his wounded eye. You held his hand as they stitched it together, feeling him squeeze your hand when the pain got too much for him. You stayed quiet as both families argued against each other. You noticed the look your mother gave you when she saw that you had not taken the side of your siblings.

Daemon stayed to the side watching the situation play out. Your grandfather continued to demand answers as he shouted amongst the room.

“I will have the truth of what happened. My sweet granddaughter, tell your grandsire how did this happen?” the King turned to you asking for an explanation of the situation.

“Due to the death of my Aunt Lady Laena, Vhagar was left unattended and unclaimed by a rider since. Aemond and I went down to see her and to see if Aemond could bond with her which he did. As we made our way back inside the castle, we were stopped by my siblings and cousins, and they argued with Aemond about Vhagar. In my honest opinion, no one truly claims a dragon they just bond with them as a rider, so making Rhaena's claim of Aemond stealing Vhagar from her false as she should not have waited so long to bond with Vhagar,” you started to retell the story to the King who listened closely to your words. “I did not want to fight against my betrothed or my siblings and cousins but I stayed alongside Aemond. The fight broke out between all of them when Baela threw the first punch against Aemond. I did not participate in the fight until Rhaena struck a slap against me while throwing insults towards my loyalty. I was too late to see the blade held by Lucerys and to save Aemond from the attack. It was an unfair fight as it was majorly the four of them against Aemond,” you told your grandfather letting a tear fall on the reddened cheek of yours as you look at Aemond and raised your hand to caress Aemond’s nonaffected cheek.

Your mother, Rhaenrya looked at you with repulse as you finished retelling the incident. She never realized the actual bond between you and Aemond as she only ever thought of it as you acting for your duty to the throne.

“Now how is it you are the only one to ever speak the truth? Thank you, granddaughter,” Viserys said as he laid a hand on your shoulder as he passed by you.

“Oh my sweet child,” Alicent came to you and brought you into her arms in a tight squeeze. “Thank you for being with Aemond,” she whispered into your ear as she let go to attend to Aemond more.

A couple of days had passed and you did not leave Aemond’s side for most of it. You noticed himself trying to distance himself from you and knowing it stemmed from the scar that was now embedded upon his face. He was scared of you feeling disgusted by his new appearance. You were quick to reassure him that you still kept the same feelings for him regardless of how he looked.

You were with Queen Alicent and Aemond in his chambers when the news was broken to you by Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys that your stepfather was found dead. You were holding a vase ready to set it down beside Aemond’s bedside table. Upon hearing the news you froze and the vase slipped out of your hands shattering on the ground where you fell to your knees. You felt small shards of glass against your skin, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt in your heart for the loss.

“Dear child, come here,” Rhaenys said with tears in her eyes as she approached you and signaled you to stand up from the broken glass. You felt stuck. Once again.

“Y/n?” Aemond questioned from his bed. He got out of the covers and carefully stepped around the glass and brought you to sit on the bed. You were silent as tears gushed from your eyes.

“How?” you managed to say through your growing sobs. Rhaenys and Corlys came to your side as Alicent and Aemond nodded to them as they walked out of the room out of respect.

“His body was found burned in the fireplace of the hall,” Corlys told you taking the space to your left and Rhaenys took the spot on your right. You were staying down on your bloodied dress and trembling hands.

“I never got to tell him how much I loved him,” you cried which had Rhaenys pulling you to her chest in a hug as you gripped her sides letting your anguish out. Corlys wrapped his arm around Rhaenys moving you to let yourself lean against the both of them.

“He knew. He always loved you and was so proud of how you have grown. Always talking about your accomplishments and the adventures you both took visiting around the realms,” Rhaenys admitted to you softly relishing in the fond memories of her son.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to both of them.

“For what, granddaughter?” Lord Corlys asked letting his hand run through your hair.

“We all know that I am not my father’s actual daughter, but do know the love and respect I held for him in my heart as he raised me as his own,” you told them in honesty but afraid to look meet their eyes you kept your head down.

“Y/n, you are his daughter through and through. He cherished you more than anything in the world and we will always accept you as our own,” Rhaenys pulled your head up to meet her gaze and more tears filled your eyes at the love and acceptance given to you at this moment.

“You hold the memories of him. You are his legacy,” Corlys confirmed to you.

END OF FLASHBACK

“Darling, your mother, and her family are coming back here to petition for the claim of Driftmark in days' time,” Alicent snapped you out of your thoughts which caused you to snap your attention to her setting your cup of tea down on the table.

“Is there a reason I was not made aware sooner?” you asked her with anxiousness crawling inside you.

“I saw no reason to worry you and the raven only arrived last evening,” she replied leaning forward to place her hand on top of yours. “It will be okay.”

“I have not spoken to them since that day all those years ago,” you admitted aloud.

After the night when you stood by Aemond’s side to explain to your grandfather about the incident, your mother and your entire family turned their back on you. Which only allowed you to keep in contact with your grandparents Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys whether it was you traveling back to High Tide with Silverwing, Aemond, and Vhagar or them coming to the Red Keep to see one another.

You did not even attend the wedding between your mother and your biological father still upset about the ending of your step-father. You learned to figure out that it was in the hands of your mother and her newlywed husband. You grew to resent them as they took the person who raised you, loved you for who you truly were, and never wanted to change you.

You stayed at Driftmark until you got sick of the ocean air, and left to return back to the capital. You were welcomed with open arms by everyone but your own family that took their stay in Dragonstone. Your time in Red Keep allowed you to be with Aemond and spent time with your grandfather until he got bedridden a couple moons ago.

“May I be excused, my Queen?” you asked.

“Of course,” she smiled at you, removing her hand and allowing you to stand and exit her chambers.

You walked in the halls of the Keep stuck in your own thoughts and worries about what is to come soon. Knowing that it could never be calm with your families. You found yourself near your shared chambers with Aemond and knocked with the hope he was in the room. Unless he was on the training grounds with Ser Cole.

“Yes?” you heard from inside the room.

“It is only me,” you said loud enough for him to hear you as well.

“Well do come in,” it was quiet but loud enough for you to open the door enough to let you slip in and shut it behind you. “Has something happened?”

Aemond notices the look on your face and knows that you are drowning in some sorrows. He gets up from his chair near the fireplace to go to you and takes your hands to lead you to the bed to sit. Both of you sit along the side of the bed, but you are staring at your intertwined hands while he stares at you. He removes one of his hands from your and raises it to your chin to lift your head up towards him. Meeting eye to eye he nods to encourage you to tell him your thoughts.

“My mother and her family are coming back to the Keep,” you muttered looking around the room trying to not meet his eye.

“Is she to bring all of them?” he scoffed at the thought of them being here.

“Yes, I assume so. She still has Jace and Luke, but I think she has another two in addition with Daemon and not to forget about Baela and Rhaena,” you answered as you thought about the family they had created without you.

“Well, we must prepare ourselves for the upcoming days,” he suggested as he let his fingers play with the sapphire betrothal ring the was worn on your left hand.

“I do not want them here.”

“No one does, My love.”

“They cannot come barging into our lives again just because they got bored of theirs,” you whine in frustration.

“They are pesky little things,” he spat which made you giggle at the tone of his voice. In which he grinned at the sound of your laughs.

You stood beside Aemond next to Aegon as the petition of Vaemond Velaryon was to be heard for who was to be the next Lord of the Tides. You felt the glares from your siblings as you stood alongside the Greens. With your emerald green dress with black lacing and your body adorned in jewels, they could not stand the sight of you standing tall with them.

Though they had no right to any opinions they create of you, that did not stop them from frowning at the conjoined hands of you and the prince to your left. It was a constant reminder for them of the night everything changed. As you did not take their side after Lucerys wrongly slashed Aemond’s face.

“I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins,” Vaemond stated to Otto Hightower who sat upon the King’s throne. As you have gotten along with the rest of the family, the Hand of the King was one person you would always dislike.

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,” Rhaenrya said which made you scoff loudly at the statement. “If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition,” she added on.

“You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Queen Alicent said from her place near you towards your mother.

“Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard,” you continued for the Queen. Rhaenrya snaps her attention to you with sorrow-filled eyes in hearing your voice for the first time in years. Her eyes travel down to the grasp you held onto Aemond’s hand and arm.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognize it,” Vaemond scowled at Rhaenrya. “I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor to be the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Jacaerys Velaryon.”

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very…” your mother started.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm,” as your grandfather King Viserys arrives near the doors.

“I will sit on the throne today,” he breathes heavily. The King limps his way toward the throne before stopping to take in a heaving breath. “I said I’m fine.”

It broke your heart to see the man you called grandfather slowly wither away to bones. The continuation of his walk does not go any further as he drops his crown as leans over his cane. You removed yourself from Aemond’s side and made your way to your beloved grandfather.

“Grandfather, here,” you pick up the crown from the floor and offer your arm out to him to try and lead him to the throne easier.

“Thank you, my child,” as he takes a seat on the throne.

“My King,” you bowed your head to him as you placed the crown back on his head.

Making your way down the steps seeing everyone’s shocked faces at the King getting out of his bed rest and his granddaughter for helping him. You made your way back over to the Greens with Alicent stopping you with her arm before you were able to reach Aemond.

“Thank you,” she smiled at you softly.

“I must... admit... my confusion,” the King starts off with coughs. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is Princess Rhaenys.”

“Indeed, Your Grace. It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark would be passed through Ser Laenor’s daughter, Y/n, but in the circumstance that she is the next heir of the Iron Throne after her mother it would be passed to Ser Laenor’s trueborn son… Jacaerys Velaryon,” Princess Rhaenys told to King as she glanced at you slightly giving you a tight-lipped smile. “His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

“Well, the matter is settled. Again,” Viserys said. “I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides. As well as the next change of succession.”

The crowd gasps at the statement of the king. Alicent looks to her father in gleaming hope. Aemond and you look at each other afraid for the words that might be said next as if Aegon were to be crowned heir. Rhaenyra and Daemon look at each other in worry.

“I hereby state a decree whereupon my death the Iron Throne and Crown are passed onto my son Prince Aemond Targaryen and my granddaughter, his betrothed Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Viserys stated to the crowd. “For they are the next heirs to the Iron Throne,” as he looked at you and his son with a smile.

There is an uproar with the crown and attending council members in the change of succession. Cheers were heard all around the room except for your mother and family. Alicent turns to you and Aemond with a bright smile on her face. She takes your face in her hands and tilts your head down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“You will make an amazing queen, Sweetling,” she told you as she placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a tight squeeze. “You, my son will be a brilliant king,” shifting her attention to Aemond.

“Oh thank the seven hells, it was not me,” you hear Aegon from beside you with a grin on his face which you poked at his side with a small giggle.

“Father, what is the meaning of this?!” your mother shouts from her place to the King.

“It is my wish you do not receive the crown, daughter,” the King said bluntly.

“You break the law... and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir then now your second son and granddaughter,” Vaemond spat at the King. “Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” Viserys scoffed at the claim. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”

“Aemond and Y/N are of my kin and as well as Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you... are no more than the second son of Driftmark,” your grandfather defended.

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this,” Vaemond shouted. “Her children are…”

“Say it,” Daemon said from beside Rhaenyra as Aemond pulled you behind him as he glared at Vaemond.

“BASTARDS! And she IS A WHORE. Not to mention the ward you had taken under your house,” Vaemond yelled loudly in the room allowing every person to hear his words.

“I will have your tongue for that,” Viserys countered.

“WHO ARE YOU TO SPEAK AGAINST MY BETROTHED?” Aemond shouted in anger leaving your side.

“Maybe she will end up like her moth-” as Aemond took ahold of Vaemond’s neck dragging him out to the courtyard.

Everyone followed in suit with you running out after Aemond in front of everyone. Even the king who was moved to a chair carried by guards was in attendance to see what his son will do. Alicent grabbed ahold of your hand preventing you from getting too close. Rhaenyra looked at Alicent in envy at the relationship between you and the Queen.

“VHAGAR!” Aemond yelled out to the sky awaiting his dragon. “I shall feed you to my dragon for your vile insults towards the heir.”

“You are not even the king yet,” Vaemond spat blood on Aemond’s boots.

“Ipradagon zirȳla, Vhagar!” Aemond commanded which had the large she-dragon pop her head into the courtyard and snatch Vaemond up in one piece. (Eat him, Vhagar)

“Well done, my son,” Viserys said from his chair proud at his son’s defense of his beloved granddaughter.

“ANYONE ELSE THAT MISSPEAKS A WORD AGAINST PRINCESS Y/N WILL BE BURNED ALIVE BY VHAGAR!” Aemond shouts to the crowd.

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems,” Viserys started. “My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. As well as our new crowned heirs my sweet granddaughter Y/N and my son Aemond. A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed.”

“Thank you, father,” Aemond thanked Viserys while taking your hand from under the table.

“It seems that we will be planning your wedding sooner than we thought, Darling,” Alicent said from her seat next to the King. You were seated next to Aemond alongside Helaena.

“Of course!” you beamed.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world yet grown so distant from each other in the years past,” Viserys told around the table as he took off the golden mask from his face. “My own face is no longer a handsome one if indeed it ever was. But tonight I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king but your father. Your brother. Your husband and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems to walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

“To you grandfather, King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name,” you said standing up from your seat and raising a glass.

“To King Viserys!”

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude and my apology,” Rhaenyra toasts to Alicent.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you and to your house. For our children will make fine King and Queen,” Alicent smiled warmly to you and Aemond before turning back to Rhaenyra for the toast.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies as Prince Aemond marries my dear sister. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles,” Jace remarked after he had slammed his fists onto the table from what Aegon muttered to him and Baela.

“I would like to say a few words. I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you except sometimes when he's drunk,” Helaena rose from the seat next to you. “Unless of course they are anything like how Aemond is to Y/n who worships the ground she walks on,” she finished with an airy laugh as you gaped at her wording with wide eyes.

“In speaks of her, this one goes to my daughter, who will ascend the crown and throne as well as her betrothed my nephew. For you shall have a long life and take the throne that you have taken from your mother,” Daemon mocked as he stood from his seat raising a glass to you.

“You are no father of mine. And I did not take anything from anyone. Aemond and I will allow the kingdoms to grow and prosper instead of you and Rhaenyra taking it for your own selfish reasons and burning it to the ground,” you announced as you slammed your hands on the table.

“Brother, it was upon my wish it was given to them,” Viserys told his younger brother.

“You are a disgrace to me,” Rhaenyra shouted at you.

“You murdered my father. It is you who is a disgrace to the Targaryen name!” you argued back with rising anger at the thought of the two people who planned your father’s murder to be standing in the same room as you.

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to say something but it closed with silence filling the room as tension surrounded the air. Viserys coughs loudly before groaning at the pain in his head making Alicent call the guards to take him back to his chambers. Aemond guides you to sit back down in your seat. Otto smirks at the obvious split between you and your so-called family. Aegon smirks at the entire situation. Daemon frowns at the result of this dinner.

“I believe it is best if we end dinner now,” Alicent spoke out.

“Are you okay, My love?” you heard from behind you as you took out the pins holding up your hair.

“Of course,” you replied.

Aemond remove your hand from your hair and replaced them with his own as he started to carefully unbraid your hair. Though it was a normal occurrence that Aemond undid your hair, it never seemed to stop the warm feeling you would get when he did.

“It is you who deserves to sit on the throne the most.”

“We will share it.”

“My love, it belongs to you, a true Targaryen.”

“Please do not mention my heritage as of now,” you groaned at the mention which made Aemond laugh at the thought of the dinner that just happened.

“In days' time we will be married,” Aemond said as he took your hand to motion you to stand.

“We shall be bound till our last breath,” rising from your seat to stand in front of him.

“I would never want it any other way,” pressing his lips against yours.

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