#aemond targaryen fanfic request
Note
Heyo love, can i request a smut where Mean Aemond fucks his innocent wife on the garden, please? ily ❤️
heya lovely, this idea...this holds a special place in my heart (just like you) 💓 hope you enjoy this x
A Flower to Ruin...
PAIRING: Cruel!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Tyrell!Innocent!Reader
WORDS: 2,516.
WARNINGS: mean/cruel!Aemond, degradation kink, female f*ngering, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing, NSFW. MINORS DNI.
A/N - I keep getting carried away, this was meant to be a small blurb, no plot & yet… here I am rambling away.
Having married the notorious one-eyed Prince, was a reality you did not dream possible. Although your House [Tyrell] was a meek one, it could and would gratefully offer endless wealth, a highly valued asset to the Crown, undoubtedly. Your betrothal nonetheless, was planned, a guaranteed means that further heightened the riches now shared with the newly appointed King, Aegon the Second, for the betterment of the realm.
And as romanticised as you'd dreamt of your surreal betrothal to the Prince Regent: such idyllic thoughts and daydreams that contaminated your mind, were vanquished with reality. For your husband, was a cruel man indeed...
Aemond Targaryen, was very much an unnerving man. Of all the rumours and whispers that would occasionally reach your innocent ears, of the infamous Kinslayer, you were keen to ignore such hearsay, remaining blissfully optimistic about your fiancé. However, much to your dismay, your initial impression of Aemond was one that stirred an internal debate inside: was it terror or lust that made you feel so uneasy around him?
The lingering yet blatant wound of his absent eye, although hidden beneath the feeble leather of an eyepatch, the red trail of a healed scar remained... And was somewhat chilling. Being frank to yourself, it did not falter your attraction towards him, however. He had a handsomely, chiselled face, the ethereal Targaryen features were most exemplified on him. Even from a distance, you could tell that his height would tower over you, his mass lean and toned. Just by his sheer demeanour, one could easily decipher that he was a warrior trained.
And when he spoke, he was stoic and monotonous, it seemed he was not impressed nor was he disappointed. The man was an enigma, impossible to decipher his raw emotions and pure intent. Was he pleased with you? Was he satisfied with this arrangement? Would he ultimately love you?
Overtime, in the following months proceeding the lavish, royal wedding, it remained impossible to say. Aemond, much to your relief, took pride in performing his husbandly duties. However, you'd grown familiar with his approach towards you, it was one filled with almost a sweet bitterness, gaining amusement in intimidating and humiliating you, and yet to some level he remained cautious with you, as though not to completely frighten you off. He kept you lingering for more, like bait on a hook.
It drove you mad, yet you'd never forged the courage to confront him, for fear that you would displease him enough to leave, wounding his ego. In truth, he was not a violent nor terrible husband either, he was committed. You had no plausible reason to complain. And yet, he treated you as though you were an inanimate object, his property, hurrying to his beckon call always, like some lamb to its shepherd.
Even in his absence, you had missed him. Only gone for a few days, for a hunting round with the young lords and knights of the realm, you'd disappointingly concluded that your feelings were one-sided. He did not miss you, how could he miss you? Aemond showed no sentimental attachment towards you, except that you were bound his loyal wife, before the laws of men and Gods... Or so you had convinced yourself.
****
"So I thought I'd find you here, my rose-" The sudden, abruptness of his deep voice had caught you off guard. Startling you, as you hastily cast your attention towards him from the open book resting in your lap. Slowly, he'd strolled towards you, hands firmly placed behind his back, as he found you nestled beneath a hidden canopy, sprawled on a silk, picnic duvet, across a freshly, cut grass-patch, beneath the cool shade offered by the blossom tree above.
"F-Forgive me, husband. I did not realise you had returned... Had I known I-" You stutter, as you attempt to gather yourself to stand.
Aemond stops you, surprisingly insisting you remain where you are, as he himself cowers down instead, laying himself beside you.
A few seconds of sheer silence are exchanged, as Aemond's attention shuffles from the stems of grass he distractedly picks at, to the neat, floral bushes onwards. You observe him longingly, a warmth fills your heart from his much anticipated presence, secretly embracing his return, as a thoughtless, faint smile appears on your face.
"H-How was the hunt, my Prince?" You utter, in a meek attempt to initiate some kind of conversation. Aemond looks onto you sternly, still his face remains stoic, although somewhat irritated, as he huffs in annoyance.
"Abysmal...Most of the bastards drunk, only myself, Criston and a few of the Kingsguard actually went out for the hunt. Waste of time when I could have been-" Aemond pauses, his words stopping in his tracks, as his gaze returns to fall upon you. His only surviving eye, lingers over your body, before resting upon your face once more. You could've sworn you saw a slight upturn curve of a smile, although one filled with that familiar glint of arrogance.
"When I could have been fucking my needy, whore of a wife."
The harshness yet deviousness of his words had caught you by surprise, feeling your cheeks turn scarlet, as you flustered and adjusted in your seated position. You felt a dull, aching pang between your inner thighs, a familiar feeling that you'd grown weakly accustomed to.
Gods, what was only a few short days, felt like long, agonising weeks since your husband had filled you. You were indeed, needy for him, for the sex had always been a pleasurable event, something you'd often looked forward to for many nights to come since your consummation. Although, this being the first since you'd both been spared some time and distance apart, you'd grown even more susceptible for his cock. Desperately craving for him during the dark, lonesome hours in the night, you'd attempt to sate yourself in his stead, however failed miserably...
It was not the same.
Remaining speechless, you’d often found yourself at a loss of words, or stuttering ambiguous sounds as Aemond tended to you. His rough hand slowly reaches up, caressing your clothed thigh, before hiking up the dress where his hand disappears beneath the garment. The flesh of his palm meets the sensitive spot of your inner thigh as he begins to trace soft circles.
“Gods, how I’ve missed you. Surrounded by all those impotent cocks, envisioning you begging for me, was the only thing keeping me sane.”
Your eyes begin to flutter before shutting, the tenderness of his words in conjunction to the lightness of his fingers, sent shivers down your spine. Sensing his hand etching closer towards your entrance, tugging at the undergarment, as the tips of his fingers graze over your moist folds.
"Although, it seems you might have been suffering as well..." His tone was low, yet amused. The smirk now prominent on his chiselled face, however was fleeting, as he returned to yet another stiff expression.
"Part your legs," He firmly uttered. From the early months of the marriage you'd learnt not to disobey, for your husband was a firm believer in justified punishment.
Doing as told, like any meek, obedient wife, you'd obeyed, spreading your legs, distant enough for his arm to snake over your thigh closest to him, where his hand remained over your cunt. Laying his weight over you, as he remained turned facing you, laid by your side, and you still propped up. The novel that you'd deeply immersed yourself in a few, mere minutes ago, now strewed across the grass, its existence no longer of significance.
"Hmm-Needy, little thing aren't you? My deprived whore-"
As he spoke, the tips of his fingers began to plunge in further into your folds, slowly encircling inside.
"Tell me, my sweet, pathetic, little wife, how desperate have you been for me? For my cock, hmm?"
"A-Aemond-" You thoughtlessly stutter, your pelvis motioning forwards, urging for more of his touch.
"Can't even think for herself, look at you. You were wet before I even began... Tell me, whore, have you touched yourself in my absence?"
His fingers delved deeper, now two, long digits inserted, pumping in and out in slow, sensual motions. His fingers massaging your walls within, as your wetness began to pool.
"N-No-" You lie, fearful that Aemond would think less of you, that you were incapable of living freely and dignified without him, even if it was for a few, short days. Aemond relished in how you'd hopelessly yearn for him, dependent on him, a loyal wife vulnerable for her dutiful husband. He loved to remind you repeatedly, growing hard thinking that only he could make you feel this way.
"Lies-" He venomously spat, urging his fingers to plunge in deeper, with a greater verocity and speed than before, causing you to jerk involuntarily, earning a loud, thoughtless moan.
"Quiet, you whore- Should someone hear us, you will be left cockless and deprived. Now tell me the truth-"
Even in the short span of time Aemond had grown acquainted with you, he knew you unlike anyone else in the realm. To some deeper, more meaningful degree, you had appreciated how intimately he had grown to know you, and often, he would use it to his advantage. Reading you like some feckless book in the citadel's library.
"Y-Yes, husband," You quietly stutter, your arms stretched back supporting you, as your legs remained widely apart. Gods, was it destined that you'd found the perfect, hidden spot to read in the gardens this fine day...
"Mhmm- Just as I'd thought. Now tell me... How badly do you want me to fuck you senseless?" Just as the last word had escaped his lips, his fingers shoved in deeper, the knuckles of his hand now grazing the entrance of your drooling cunt.
"So-So very much-" You hiccuped, your breath hitching in your throat audibly, as you attempt to steady your breathing, your chest heaving, accentuating your plump breasts and slight cleavage. Aemond's eye [whenever you granted yourself the chance] you had noticed it flicker from your face to your blatant show of breasts: undoubtedly, most infatuated by them.
"You are going to need to convince me harder than that, that was pathetic, even for you- Beg for me, my insolent wife."
"Hmm-" You'd hopelessly moan, your walls throbbing against your husbands steady, yet swift motions.
"Please, Aemond- I-I need you. It-It's been so very hard, these past few days. Y-You’d been gone for s-so long-" His pacing eases, as he insists on you to speak coherently, eager to hear what you have to say.
"F-Fuck- I need you inside of me. I could not do what you can, I-I cannot satisfy myself, as y-you do so-so very well.”
As your head was lunged backwards, looking upwards towards the rustling leaves, flowers and sky above, you casted your attention once more downwards, gazing upon Aemond, whom remained cockily smiling up at you. Ever so pleased with your honest response, it seemed.
"Hmm."
Shoving his fingers in deeper, his pace now had hasten: shifting in your seat, as your hips instinctively bucked forward. You could feel his fingers just grazing over your tight, sweet spot, with each pump, earning more mindless moans and pleas for his name [or more so indirectly, for his cock].
Without a second to waste, Aemond pulled his hand from your drenched cunt, causing you to moan from the sudden release of the tension. His fingers glazed in your wetness, sparing a moment to take in your scent lingering from his fingers, before seating himself up on his knees, between your thighs. Hiking your dress up, as he eagerly pulled your private garments down, he'd adjusted his position swiftly, undoing his trousers in a haste simultaneously.
Cowering down over you, as he softly laid your back down against the linen and grass, his 'clean' hand reached over towards your face, his thumb gently stroking the side of your flustered cheek. He'd often spare a sacred moment, closely watching you from above, during sex, as you both immerse yourself in each other's attention, taking in all the fine details up close and personal.
"No need to say more, my wife-" Feeling his hardened cock, grazing your glazed entrance, that same potent, aching sensation stirring once more.
"You need not suffer any longer, and neither must I. I have taunted you and myself enough."
In a swift yet vigorous motion, Aemond thrust his long, pulsating cock deep inside, burying it cosily within. Your tight walls had immediately clenched onto him, like a key latched to a lock. You were made just for him, it was undeniable and he knew it.
"Fuck-" He'd breathlessly growled, as you unsteadily pant against his sturdy pace. His backward and forward motions felt unruly, as he heavily laid on top of you, your knees brought up, instinctively wrapping around his lean waist.
"Feels so tight around me, look at how much you crave for me, whore. No matter how often I pry you open, how much I fuck or fill you up. You are always desperate for more-" One hand rests on the ground for standing support, just beside where your head rests.
"Selfish, little whore. Your body still aches for me, and it naturally shows. You cannot hide it from me-"
You could muster no logical words nor any comprehensible thoughts, incoherent and ignorant to any lingering, perverted eyes. You had missed your husband dearly. Each breathless word that spilled from his filthy mouth in this very precise moment, was the honest truth, there was no point to deny or retaliate against him.
"I-I do not intend to, ever," You breathlessly whimper, gripping Aemond's cloaked, muscular shoulders, feeling your nails dig into his dense clothes.
Earning a menacing, short chuckle from Aemond, his raw thrusts grew faster and regular, his breathing heavier and louder. You could feel yourself edging closer and closer until reaching the final, much anticipated peak. Unconsciously lunging yourself closer, burying your face into Aemond's chest, as you continued to grip onto him tightly for support. Feeling his weight, in return falling into you, pinning you down, as his cum shoots itself inside, coating your walls as he satisfyingly fills you up with his seed.
As you both hastily cleaned and redressed yourselves up as best as you could, you'd noticed the grass patches where your weight and hand prints had rested, left a noticeable imprint on the ground, triggering a faint, heartfelt smile from you.
Aemond helping you up form the ground, as you folded the soiled duvet and book, he'd begun to carefully pluck out each of the small, dry leaves and petals that had somehow mingled in your unkept hair. A faint, sincere smile beaming across his face as he longingly gaped down above you, fixing the misplaced strands of hair.
Although, he had often taken pleasure in hurling cruel words towards you, his love was genuine and unrelenting. He was a loyal and dutiful husband, and it was plenty more than what many of the lords of the realm would offer their wives.
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Unsought Betrothal - Part 2 - Part One Here
Dark!Aemond x Reader Velaryon x Cregan Stark
Summary: After attempting to humilate your betrothed by laying with Lord Cregan Stark the night before your wedding in the hopes that Aemond would call the wedding off, you find that not only is he determined to still wed you, but also to punish you for your indiscretions. Part One Here
Pairings: Dark!Aemond x Reader, Cregan x Reader, Cregan x Aemond
Warnings: Arranged marriage, threats of violence, acts of violence, forced voyeurism, dubcon, elements of noncon, naked reader, clothed men, fingering, finger fucking, pussy slapping, p in v sex, creampie, pussy eating, cum eating, degradation, praise, voyeur.
Word Count: 13k oops... sorry
Notes: Wow, whelp, its been a while since I have posted some of my writing, and even longer since I wrote the first part of this abomination, but when you get the urge, you just gotta scratch it. Thank you all for all your beautiful messages of kindness as usual, I'm sorry I've been gone a while. I have had a bit of a rough time this year but hopes for a brighter future! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, and I hope I can write again very soon for you, hehe ;) Enjoy! <3
The wedding came just as it was planned. Just as it was arranged. Sleep had evaded you, anger and confusion clouding your mind with memories of the night before, ache still throbbing between your thighs. Your little attempt at stopping the engagement had no affect on your betrothed. No affect on the uncle you had grown up with. On the man you would now call husband.
You had thought that if you could humiliate Aemond in court by flirting with Lord Cregan Stark that he would call off the engagement. That the embarrassment would be too much for the pious prince. That the shame would turn him away from you, making him demand to his mother that they call off the engagement.
You had thought that maybe if you lost your maidenhead to the Northerner, Aemond would be so disgusted, so filled with rage, that he would call the engagement off, what with him being a dedicated follower of the Seven.
But you were wrong.
And so you spent an evening limping back into the Keep, escorted by none other than the One-eyed Prince himself and Ser Crispin. The front of your bodice had been ripped by Aemond's hands, but thankfully your hooded cloak covered up your sullied gown, the bottom of it dirtied with mud from where Aemond had bent you over in the alleyway and taken you roughly. With each step you took, you felt his seed slide down your legs, sticking to your inner thighs tackily.
When you got to your chambers, you used the small basin at your dressing table filled with water to wipe and wash away the blood and seed from your body, pain and a lingering dull ache causing you to jerk with each swipe.
You didn’t get much sleep that evening, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The urge to run was strong, to just leave out into the night through one of the secret passages and onto your dragons back, but the urge to stay was stronger. You hated him, truly hated him, but the way he had treated you that night, the fire in his eye, it lit something inside of you. It almost made you want him.
Need him.
Yet, there was another urge to stay, to make his life hell. To humiliate him at every turn, to ensure that he knew that forcing the engagement to continue would ensure him a life long marriage of discontent and disharmony.
You were not going to bend to his will. You were not going to bend to his needs, to bow at the husband, and say ‘yes’, and ‘thank you’, and ‘please’. You were going to be who you have always been.
A Valaryian.
Your eyes stayed open, watching as the ceiling eventually became light with the sun, indicating the break of dawn, and soon enough your maids were entering your chambers to get you ready to be wed. You were thankful that none of them asked questions about the dirtied ripped gown, or the bloodied rag in the basin, though you knew they were likely already aware.
The doors to your chambers opened as they pulled your hair back, pinning it atop your head in masses of braids with gold pins, tips glowing red with circular rubies. The colour of your mothers house dripping from you. Footsteps moved through your chambers, your head lifting to find Rhaenyra coming towards you, wearing a dress of black. Her silver hair half up, half down, small braids weaving around the back of her head beautifully.
A soft smile pulled on her lips as she came towards you, causing you to turn in your seat to fully face her. She looked sad and also lovingly devoted all at once. And whilst you knew it was not her greatest wish to marry you off to her half-brother, you also both knew that it was the only way to prevent bloodshed.
“My sweet.” Rhaenyra cooed, a slender hand coming to brush against your cheek dotingly, the scar on her arm from Alicent peeking beneath the cuff of her dress.
Blood already shed.
“Muña.” You smiled back, pulling her hand down into your lap.
Your mother leant forward and placed a kiss atop your head, “You look so beautiful, my love.”
“Thank you, mother.”
“Are you ready?” Her tone was gentle, as though she didn’t wish to startle you. As though she didn’t want to break the bubble that was the safety of your chambers.
The last time in your chambers as an unwed woman.
You gave her a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes, and she could see it, “I must be.”
The small smile she had worn slid away, “This is not what I had intended for you. I did not wish to force you as I had been. I wish-“
“-I know.” You squeezed her hand, “I understand. It is my duty as your daughter to be wed to the Hightower’s to prevent bloodshed and war. To ensure your ascension to the throne. Let me perform my duty for you.”
“You know that we love you.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand back, “Daemon has almost gone mad with rage. He does not wish to see you be wed to him. Luc feels that it is his fault.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from either of them.” You stood, still clutching her hand.
Her violet eyes roamed down your body.
The dress you wore was similar to the one she had worn for her wedding to Laenor, white with gold and licks of red in the lining. The dress sat below your collarbones and drooped against your shoulders, pearlescent beads sewn onto the short sleeves like dragon scales with a red silk peaking underneath.
“I wish this could be different for you.” She came to your side, placing a white cloak atop your shoulders, the Velaryon House sigil embroidered on the back, readying you to leave your chambers.
You looped your arm in hers, steeling a breath before you gave her a confident smile, “I don’t.”
-
Your heart rattled in your chest as you tried to stop the anxiety that churned nauseatingly in your stomach. Your hand was clenched tightly against Daemons arm, who slowly walked you down the many tables filled with people towards the man who would soon be your husband.
“Breathe.” Daemon cooed softly in your ear, his hand attempting to soothe you with soft brushes against yours.
Your eyes had not once left Aemond, who watched you with a dark glare.
The second son stood before the table, Viserys slumped behind him in his chair, the barest of smiles on his rotted face, half covered by a golden mask as you came towards them all. Your mother and Alicent sat on either sides of the King, followed by your brothers, your uncles, your cousins, and your aunt.
Aemond stood stiffly as he always did, the perfect posture with his shoulders back. He was higher on the stairs so that he looked down his nose at you, which wasn’t different to any other time he did. Each step towards him was nerve-wracking, the Lords and Ladies who had travelled far and wide watching you with keen eyes.
When finally you were standing before him, Daemon let go, coming to stand between you and Aemond momentarily, breaking your eye contact for the first time since you entered the room. Your uncle Daemon’s face was a kind one, and one you had grown to love as a step-father. He did not offer you a reassuring smile like your mother did, nor did he offer a consoling one. Instead, he leant forward to press a kiss to the side of your face before standing straight, towering over the both of you in both height and size before he moved back towards the table, sitting beside your mother.
And so the ceremony began.
In the light of the chambers Aemond looked sinister, shadows cast across his sharp face as he continued to look down his nose at you, chin still raised high. The Prince’s hair was styled in the way that it always was; straight and down his back, with two plain pieces pulled away from the sides of his face, tied neatly behind his head. He wore all black, the lining and undershirt the deepest of greens that was almost onyx. A symbol of his mother and her war that she had declared on a night such like this, many years ago.
The room felt hot, the back of your neck sweating as you stared at each other, all eyes pinned on you as the Septon’s voice boomed throughout the room.
“Father, Mother, Warrior,” The old mans voice was so loud in your ear that you winced, “Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. Hear now their vows.”
You swallowed thickly, momentarily looking down at your hands before back into his sole lilac one, watching as his posture straightened further, surprised that he could even do so.
“I am yours, and you are mine.” Aemond’s voice dipped lower, “Whatever may come.”
Your throat felt dry, but your gut was filled with anticipation. You were frightened, but there was something else simmering beneath it all. A need for the danger he brought, a feeling of protection from him. Not from him and his anger, but from others.
A possessive desire.
The Septon looked at you impatiently to say your vows, and a small wave of quiet whispers spread across the room as you stood silently. The Prince shifted on his feet, muscles in his jaw clenching.
“I am yours,” You breathed softly, hands gripping each other tightly in front of your dress, “And you’re mine. Whatever may come.”
The purple of Aemond’s eye was half hidden by his lid, his gaze having softened at your short vow. You watched as the corner of his sharp lips twitched upwards lightly into a small smirk.
The Septon continued, “Here in the presence of Gods and Men, I proclaim Aemond of House Targaryen and Y/n of House Velaryon to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”
Man and Wife.
Wed to Aemond Targaryen.
Your husband.
Now and forever.
An eruption of congratulatory joy spread throughout the room, the noise almost deafening as everyone celebrated what could be your demise. And though the noise around you was distracting, you could not look away from him, even as he shifted closer.
Aemond’s hand lifted and you flinched, the only people having noticed was your family seated behind you. His hand continued despite your shock to cup the side of your face and jaw, and as quickly as it happened, it ended. Aemond’s face grew closer as his eye slid shut, pressing his lips tenderly to yours in a brief moment before he pulled away, hand dropping back down to his side. The hand that had cupped your face grasped your hand for all to see, before he led you around to your seat at the table.
-
The night of celebrations became a blur, too in shock to really enjoy yourself, but wine still flowing heavily. Most of your evening you spent ignoring your new husband, opting to speak mostly to your mother and brothers, as well as Daemon and his daughters, who threw you pitying smiles, yet words of encouragement.
Aemond sat by your side, though he made no effort to join your conversations or create ones of his own. He had always been the quiet of his siblings, always sticking to the shadows and tomes of the library, never quite fitting in.
Helaena leant forward towards you, Otto eyeing her warily whilst Alicent looked as though she was about to chastise her daughter. In your aunts hand was a beetle, all black, though when the light of the candles shone on his shell, it seemed to glow. Greens and blues, and purples and pinks, danced across the beetles wings as it crawled atop her hand.
Your aunt had always loved insects, and had always been a sweet and kind person. You loved Helaena, and if there was anything that could help you endure living in the Red Keep alone without your family, it would be her.
“He appears dark,” She breathed watching as it crawled through a gap in her fingers and back towards her palm, “But if you look closely, you’ll find that he’s not.”
You shuffled in your seat, your shoulder pressed to hers as you ducked your head to look closer at the beetle, “He’s quite beautiful.”
Healaena lifted her face towards you, as she smiled at you dreamily, “He is, if you let him.”
Frowning, you looked back to the beetle, “How do I let a beetle be a beetle?”
Helaena did not answer you, instead continuing to twist and turn her hand as the bug crawled around on it.
Aegon watched from above the rim of his cup, drunk with red rimmed eyes. His hair was oily and wavy, unbrushed atop his round face. You could not help but feel a shiver crawl over you as he smiled.
“Our sweet niece and brother are finally married.” Aegon purred, Helaena barely giving him a second glance as though over the years she had attuned herself into pretending that he did not exist.
“A joyous occasion, uncle.” You smiled falsely back, picking up your own goblet of wine, ready to go back to talking with Helaena. Or the beetle.
Anything to escape Aegon.
“Do you know what happens tonight? After the celebrations of course.” Your uncles voice creeped along the surface of the table like a snake, so that only you and his siblings could hear.
You swallowed thickly.
Of course you did.
You had done it last night.
Bar a bed. Or walls.
In fact, it wasn’t even in the Keep, and instead in a dirty alley in Flea Bottom, hidden amongst the shadows.
“I’m aware.” Your voice was clipped, which seemed to goad Aegon.
“And how does our sweet little niece know of such things?”
You swallowed thickly, head turning to look at Aemond, whose eye was trained on his brother.
“My Septa.” You tuned back to face him, “And your whoring.”
Aegon chuckled, filling up his goblet with wine once more, “I suppose then you know what to expect.”
“Yes.”
“Should you ever be in want of a demonstration-"
“-Leave her be.” Came Aemond’s voice, almost a growl. His hand was clutched tightly around his own goblet as he challenged his older brother to say something more.
Aegon laughed loudly, eyes on his brothers clenched hand before looking up to watch him, “I only jest, brother! It is a night of celebrations!” He thrust his goblet towards the One-Eyed Prince, “It’s not everyday that my little brother is married off to such a beautiful princess. The daughter of the Realm’s Delight, no less. Do you think-“
Helaena shifted, turning her body towards you, “It isn’t so bad.” She spoke emotionlessly into your ear to distract you from Aegon, “It only hurts the first few times.” Your aunt paused in thought, lavender eyes still on the beetle as it moved, before looking at you, “Or when he’s angry. Or drunk.” She added as an afterthought, “But mostly when he’s drunk.”
Sorrow coursed through you for your aunt, your gaze immediately staring into Aegon’s angrily. How could he do this to her? How could he treat her like one of his whores? If not because she is his wife, but because she is his sister. Aegon seemed to sink into his chair after Helaena’s comment, soft anger simmering off of him in small waves.
But Aegon has never truly known when to stop.
“I am sure my brother here will barely draw blood.”
“I am sure your interest in your brothers cock speaks loudly.”
Elbows sloppily placed on the table he leant towards you, “I tried to take him once you know, to a whorehouse.” His voice became more hushed, “He hated it. Made me think that maybe our dear Aemond was perhaps like your father, Laenor.”
Blinding rage shot through you, “Don’t speak about my father.” You hissed, “He was more man than you shall ever be.”
A cruel smirk pulled at Aegon’s lips, “I am sure he has had more men than I ever shall.”
Your hand shot forward to grasp your goblet, ready to hurl it across the table at him, peace be damned, but Aemond was quicker and snatched your wrist before the tips of your fingers could even reach the cup.
A quiet fell over your table as all watched the interaction, your wrist in Aemond’s hand, Aegon smirking cruelly at you, and your face hot with anger.
“I pity you.” You quietly seethed, “Always so desperate to get a reaction out of the people around you, because if you didn’t you would simply cease to exist. Though you are the first son of Viserys, a peasant bastard from Flea Bottom would garner more respect.”
Aegon’s gassed darkened, his mouth readying to fire back at you.
“Aemond.” Alicent called to her son, a questioning and yet chastising tone in her voice.
Aemond looked at his mother, and then back to you, checking to see if you were going to continue on with your thought. But you had grown tired of the grip he had on you, his large hand squeezing your bones painfully as they shifted beneath the skin.
“Don’t touch me.” You sneered at him, snatching your hand away as you stood, chair scraping loudly against the flagstones.
The throne room quietened, all stilling to watch as you stood at the table, seething down at your husband. The rest of your family all watched warily, except for the Rogue Prince who smirked broadly at you. Your chest heaved with anger as you looked down at Aemond, who stared up at you with similar rage.
King Viserys sensing the tension smiled, though it looked more like a grimace, “Our young lovers wish to dance!” A distraction on his end, and a clever one at that.
The room erupted into cheers and clapping, and the musicians in the corner began playing music loudly for all. Lords and Ladies stood from their seats and moved into the centre of the room to dance together.
Glaring down at your husband, your hands clenched into fists, waiting for him. Aemond slowly stood, towering over you, a large hand stretched out towards you, palm up.
“Wife.”
“Husband.” You growled, taking his hand roughly, digging your nails into his skin as you led him down the stairs towards the people.
The court parted to the sides like a wave, creating a path for you straight to the centre as you lead Aemond down to it, almost like a dog. Each man and woman watched with excitement, either for the celebrations or the rising tension between the two of you. You’d be a fool to think that the court wouldn’t love a quarrel to arise so that they may whisper about it in corridors later to come.
It could be a way to press the wound so to speak with Aemond later.
You stopped in the centre, finally letting go of your husband as you spun to face him.
He stood as he always did, stiff, emotionless with a hint of arrogance, watching you with a cool glare. The court waited for you to begin, as the music continued to play, but even then you couldn’t push yourself to touch him. To feel his hands on you once more, alighting a fire within you that you did not know was possible, the embers still burning from the night before.
Would they be able to tell?
That he had already deflowered you in Flea Bottom?
In a dirty alley like one of Aegon’s whores?
In a way, you hoped they would. Let it bring him dishonour. Let it bring him humiliation from the court that his wife would take him in such a filthy, commoner way. You wished for his disdain, you wished for his anger, anything but the clear desire which seemed to move through him as he watched you from down his nose.
“Well?” You snipped, waiting for him to make the first move.
Aemond came forward swiftly, much like he had in the alley, and you had to bite your cheeks to stop the gasp that would have escaped your mouth.
It came to him so naturally to touch you, to hold you. One large hand immediately grasping yours by your side pulling it up, the other skating up your hip, over your collar bone, slowly down your shoulder, and down, down, down your arm.
Goosebumps rose on your skin, a shiver running down your back as his other hand connected with yours, and slowly but surely, the dance began. Even with the noise of the room, the music playing, the talking, and laughter, and joy from the guests, you could still hear the small little gasps and breaths you let free as you danced with Aemond.
It was likely one of the only times you hadn’t bickered after so long in his presence, let alone whilst touching him. The two of you stayed silent, moving this way and that, your gaze occasionally flitting to the table to your mother and Daemon, who watched with kind eyes.
“Don’t let Aegon goad you.” Aemond finally spoke.
His hand brushed against your shoulders, and round the back of your neck, a heat beginning to simmer in your gut from his touch. You turned to face him, watching as he observed you closely.
“He won’t stop if you show it bothers you.”
“He always bothers me.” You snipped, but this time with much less anger, “He is like a fly you wish to swat but can never reach."
Aemond’s lip twitched as he looked at you, turning around you slowly, “Mm.”
“Mm.” You mimicked, turning away from him.
“Behave yourself, wife.” Aemond purred, irritation flitting through you momentarily.
“What? Like how behaved yourself last night?”
“I could say much the same to you.”
“A shame then.” You sighed, moving to come chest to chest with him, your breath stilling in your lungs as you looked up at him. You would never get used to how tall he had grown over the years, “You bring much dishonour to your mother.”
“As do you. Whoring yourself to a Lord of the North-“
“-King of the North-“
“-In a dirty, whore riddled tavern.”
“A dirty, whore riddled tavern that you knew about.”
Aemond stilled, his head dipping towards you, “Did you think that I wouldn’t know of your movements in Kings Landing? Did you truly believe that I would be so foolish as to think that you would come to me willingly?”
You swallowed thickly.
“No.” He continued, sucking on his teeth, “You forget that I know you. You are much like your brothers. Getting into places where you don’t belong.”
“And what of yours?” You became defensive at the mention of your brothers, remembering how he and his would call you all bastards, “Loudly and brazenly whoring himself to any and all who would dare risk fucking him.”
“My brothers whoring does not concern me.”
“Then I suppose I am not a concern either.” You sniffed, “You needn’t worry, I am sure that he should find his way into our chambers one way or another.”
The hand on your arm tightened to the point of pain, your cheek twitching as you tried to hold in a wince, “I told you, he is not of concern.”
“I know Aegon. I have heard of what he does-“
“-And you know me. Know that he will not-“
“-He will not, what? Sully me? Taint our marital bed? It is already tainted. You made sure of that last night.” You stood closer to him, still as the others danced around you, your gaze peering up into his as your chest heaved, “But what if I want him to? What if I willingly invite him to take me? I’m sure you do not mind sharing after all, he is your brother.”
Aemond’s eye flashed with anger, before his head slowly ducked beside your ear, “If you think I am fool enough to stoop to your provocations then you must forget that we grew up together, side by side. I know your tricks.” The hand on your arm released its strong grip, coming to brush against the back of your neck, “I know that you despise him just as much as I. I know that you used to cry at the Godswood when he called you bastard.”
You bristled, purposely stepping back as you stared at him angrily. You hated that word. You hated what it meant for you and your siblings. You hated that he and his brother and his mother and the court whispered about all of your parentage. You hated that once, when you had been young, despite all of this, you had been friends.
Rage bubbled up inside of you, and before you could stop yourself you leant forward, hand coming to touch the side of Aemond’s face with his one seeing eye, the other covered by his leather patch.
You rubbed your thumb atop his cheek, “Imply that I am bastard once more, and I shall blind you with the purpose that Lucerys lacked.”
Aemond’s chest rose and fell jaggedly, inhaling breaths faster than yours, anger coursing through his veins. His sharp lips twitched as he watched you, “I wouldn’t dare. I know just how Strong you are, Princess.”
Your thumb moved fast, but Aemond was faster, anticipating your movements. His hand caught yours against his cheek, trapping your fingers between his hand so that they may not move further to pluck his remaining eye from its socket like intended.
“People are watching, ābrazȳrys.” Wife, He purred, though there was a lick of danger behind it.
A warning.
“Ivestragī zirȳ urnēbagon.” Let them watch, You sneered, “Nyke kessa laesdaor ao hae iā dīnilūks irudy.” I shall blind you as a wedding gift.
Aemond’s silver brow lifted, “Skoros iā sȳz irudy.” What a good gift, His eye turned dangerous, “Eman iā irudy syt ao, mēre nyke gōntan daor jaelagon naejot tepagon.” I have a gift for you, one I did not wish to give.
“Is it your death?” You countered cheerily, not wanting to show him that the way he spoke to you set your hair on end.
“No. I think it will be much better than that. We will both come to enjoy it.” The danger in his eye still flickered like a flame, “I was considering not giving it to you, but since you are behaving so wonderfully, I simply must insist.”
You turned away from him, moving to go back to your seat, “I want nothing from you.”
“And yet, you'll have everything.”
-
As the night grew long, your fears grew larger. And though he had taken you the night before in an alley, his subtle threat of what may come tonight lingered in the back of your mind. Each cup of wine was drained eagerly by your lips, hoping and wishing that you could somehow make yourself sick enough to not have the bedding ceremony.
But it came all the same, just as the wedding had.
Aegon was the one who initiated the beginning of the end.
A large clap came from in front of you, the short haired Prince leaning towards you on the tables with his hands clasped together, silver and gold rings adorning them. A sinister smile pulled at his lips as he beamed at you and his brother.
“The night is late!” He proclaimed loudly to the chambers, many Lords and Ladies turning their heads to watch, “I think we have held these two young lovers hostage for far too long!” Aegon smiled out to the room and then stood, lifting his goblet.
His shirt was untucked, his gait unsteady and he swayed on his feet as he continued, “My brother is too polite to remove himself from festivities such as these! But brother,” He thrusted his cup towards you, “I can see that you wish to take your new wife to bed! The love these two share is a tale for story books, though they are too polite to say a thing.” He chuckled, and laughter followed from the Lords behind you, “Worry not! We will continue the festivities without you!”
Cheers were heard from about the room, though none came from your own table. Aegon sipped his wine greedily, eyes watching you from above the rim of his cup. The Prince took the goblet from his lips and clicked his fingers impatiently beside him, pointing at an uncomfortable Criston Cole who came to his side like a well trained mutt.
“Ser Criston, take these newly weds to my brothers chambers. It seems it is time for the bedding ceremony.”
Ceremony.
Your blood ran cold.
Aemond stood abruptly beside you, head on with his brother.
“No need, Ser Cole.” His smooth voice icy, “I shall escort the Princess there myself.”
Aemond pushed his chair backwards as you continued to stare at Aegon, not quite ready to be alone with the Prince.
Your husband.
You blinked, turning your head towards your family, who all gave you pained smiles. But it was your duty. And you had given your mother your word. Slowly you stood, letting your eyes scan the table, softly landing on your grandsire before meeting with a pair of large brown eyes. Alicent Hightower watched on with a nervous energy, her hands shifting on her lap as you assumed she picked at the skin around her fingers. The look in her eyes almost held empathy.
Almost.
You bowed your head to the King and Queen, ignoring Aegon’s shit eating grin.
“Your Grace.”
Pushing your chair back you ignored the outstretched arm of Aemond and made your way down the stairs, Lords and Ladies watching as you made your slow exit from the room, taking false prideful steps through the court to delay the inevitable, giving all who watched smiles and nods of your head.
The shifting of armour moved loudly behind you, before soon enough, Ser Criston Cole was overtaking your step to lead you out of the chambers and soon to Aemond’s. The white cape attached to his shoulders billowed behind him as he speedily kept on.
The skin on your elbow burned, a hand gripping it tightly as you were momentarily slowed as Aemond came to your side. You refused to meet his eye, feeling his gaze upon the side of your face as you exited the chambers, the sounds of cheering and laughter loud behind you. The chamber doors shut with a thump, the sound dampened and muffled, footsteps echoing down the darkened corridors of the Red Keep.
“Does Ser Criston not wish to watch you bed me?” You sneered, eyes flickering to the lit lamps on the walls as Aemond led you down a wing of the Keep you had scarcely been down.
“I have instructed him to prepare my chambers for your arrival.” Aemond replied, his strides long and rigid as he almost hauled you with him.
“Do not pull me.” You yanked your arm back, halting your steps, “I am not your dog.”
Aemond stilled, looking down his nose at you as he towered above, “Dogs are better behaved.”
The Prince’s head snapped to the side, pain spreading through your palm as you sneered at him. The side of his cheek bloomed an angry red, yet Aemond did not react to your slap, nor did he hit you back, instead, a slow smirk pulled at his lips.
“I shall allow that, but only because I know you will regret it.”
Rising to your tiptoes you tried to make yourself come to eye level, “I regret nothing.”
“Mm.” He looked at you blankly, “I shall give you a choice.” Anger rose within your chest, heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks, “Come with me to the Godswood.” Your brows furrowed, “Pray to the Gods for forgivingness for striking your husband, kneel and apologise. Swear obeisance to me-”
“-If you think-“
“-And I shall let you go to your own chambers alone. No need for a bedding ceremony after last night.”
You flushed, swallowing thickly, “I would never lower myself to apologising to a second son. And especially not to a Prince who is owed no inkling of respect.”
Aemond watched you for a beat, eye scanning your face as his held flat, “Then we continue to my chambers.” The hand that pulled you began again, and your feet struggled to keep up with his, bruises no doubt to be on the tender flesh of your arm in the morning.
Your heart raced in your chest as you felt yourself get closer to his chambers, his strides not once slowing down, though you tried to dig your heels into the flagstones to slow him.
“You care not to have a woman enthusiastic in your bed?” You tugged fruitlessly at your arm, “You wish to drag me to a night of suffering, like a savage. Like your brother, Aegon.” You sneered, fruitlessly tugging your arm to escape his grip.
“A savage would have had you atop the table before all to see when you first defied me. I gave you a chance to apologise, remember that you scorned it.”
“A chance? What chance was I given? A loveless marriage with a man who is not my equal? A burden I am forced to bear as I am forced to lay beneath him!”
Aemond’s steps halted once more, almost causing you to crash into him, his fingers tightening against your arm as he yanked you against his chest angrily, “You needlessly make this more difficult. I extended an offering to you of peace, and you burnt it.”
“Peace?” You screeched incredulously, “You have done naught but provoke me! Naught but push and prod and goad me into reaction so that you may justify your sick desires.”
“Provoke you? I seem to recall you sneaking into Flea Bottom to try and lay with a Lord to spite me.”
“I was trying to save us from a loveless and cruel union.”
“Us? Or yourself?”
You paused, mouth feeling dry. Anger and fear swirled within your gut viscously as you stared at him. The both of you panting heavily at one another. Aemond shifted, moving away from the wall beside you, revealing two large wooden doors.
You were there.
And you had not even realised.
“Wife.” Aemond purred sarcastically before pushing open the door, the smell of his room engulfing you.
It smelt of him, but far more intensely. Of leather and smoke, and spices which he dabbed his skin with, and still, behind all of this, the natural scent of him. The smell that was only his and his alone. A scent that had wrapped around you in that alleyway the night before.
The fireplace raged wildly, the room filled with dark mahogany furniture. There was a chaise, arm chairs, a table seated for six, a large bed on the other end, a reading desk with piles of books and scrolls, and candles sitting on every surface, lighting the room.
The second thing you observed as your eyes roamed the space was that you were not alone.
Your heart skipped in your chest.
There by the bed, was a man sat in a chair. Arms tied down to it as his feet were tightly bound to the legs. His long dark hair was knotted atop his head as he stared at you in shock, and beside him, Ser Criston Cole.
“Cregan?” You breathed in shock, running towards the Northerner as you dropped to your knees, hand reaching out to cup his face as he only looked at you with sorrow, “Are you hurt?”
“I did warn you,” Aemond growled from behind, “That you would regret it. I had a plan, you see. A moment of mercy to let you apologise at the Godswood, for you to go-“
“-Let him go!”
“-To your chambers untouched and unscathed. I had given you a choice, and this is the one you have chosen.”
You turned your head sharply to face Aemond, “What have you done?”
“This man was caught conspiring against the crown. He planned to take the Princess’ honour and humiliate her betrothed. A Prince.” His lilac eye held Cregan’s icy blue ones, “I have done my duty by capturing this traitor to the realm.”
Fear began to bubble inside of you, eyes looking back to Cregan. The left side of his face was bruised, small cuts littered across his cheek and brow. His soft lips were swollen and split, and dried blood had gathered in one corner.
“He is innocent.” Your knees ached as they dug into the stones below, your upper body turning to face Aemond again, “He knew naught of what I was doing. Punish me. Let him go.”
Aemond hummed and walked towards you, “Brave. Admirable if it wasn’t for nothing. No. I gave you a choice before, and you have made your choice. I gave you the option to apologise, to bend to me as your husband, to go to your chambers alone, but this is what you have chosen. This was your choice.”
“You gave me no choice!” You sneered, moving to stand, shielding Cregan’s body with your own, “All this talk of choices when all you have gave was an unknown ultimatum.”
“A choice nonetheless. Godswood or chambers. And so here we are. The consequences of your actions.” The Prince came closer, shadows cast across his face, “I told you that you would regret it.”
“You’re a savage! A foul beast.”
A smile pulled at Aemond’s lips, “Choose your words carefully, wife. I have no qualm with slitting his throat where he sits should you continue to defy me.”
Cregan pulled against his restraints, angrily sneering at Aemond, who simply hummed once more as he came to stand before you, looking down at you with false pity, “But, it is the night of our union, and the betrayal is still fresh and something I am willing to move past. I shall give you another choice. One that I feel may be far too lenient.”
Tears began to well in your eyes.
This was all your fault.
“The Lord of Winterfell shall sit where he is, and watch as I fuck you in ways that he never shall-“
“-You disgust me!”
“-Or he shall be tried and hung for treason.” Aemond came closer, his chest almost brushing against yours as he stared at you, “The choice is yours.”
You sneered upwards at your uncle, tears gathering in your eyes, “I would rather die than let you touch me again.”
“I recall you seeming to enjoy it, wetting my cock in that filthy alley as you begged for it.” He purred, hand lifting to brush hair from your face as he sighed, “I don’t mind what you choose, I could simply slit his throat myself right now? If you'd prefer it?”
A lone tear fell down your cheek as you turned and held Cregan’s gaze, his brows furrowing as he saw you come to your decision.
“Y/n, don’t-“ Cregan’s head was jerked back roughly, Ser Coles hand in his hair as he stuck a blade beneath his chin. The edge of the blade nicked the skin lightly, a small bead of blood travelling down his neck.
He would die.
He would die and it would be all your fault.
“Please, Aemond.” You begged, “Please do not do this. Let him go. Let him go and I swear to you I will obey your commands. Let him free and I am yours.”
The silver haired mans head tilted as he cooed you, “I am sorry, my love. But it is too late to beg for my mercy as I offered it to you before. What kind of man would I be if I excused such treason?”
You stepped forward swiftly, “A strong one. A merciful one. A man who can see the error of my way. That I am repentant.” You tried to cajole him, “I promise you I will be good. I will perform my duty and do what is expected of me.”
“You are sweet when you beg, but it is too late.”
“Uncle, please! I will do anything! Anything you ask of me. I swear to the Seven.”
Aemond smiled at you, “I know you will. And that is why you will do this.” Aemond swallowed, eye roaming down your wedding gown hungrily, defiantly.
Angrily.
“Strip.”
“Aemond-“
“-Strip, or he dies.”
Tears rolled down your cheek, your stomach rolling in disgust and fear.
“Please do not make me do this.” You sobbed, arms limp by your side as you looked down at the flagstones, feeling defeated.
Your husband tutted you, long slender finger brushing the tears that fell from your eyes away, “Do not waste your tears on him, my love. I can be gentle, and soon you will come to love my touch. This, I promise you.”
Pain bloomed in your jaw as you ground your teeth together, wary to not trigger Criston’s excitable hand. Short breaths puffed from your nose as fury and sorrow rose within you like a tide, little by little building in a wave. In your periphery, Aemond stepped back, a pale hand presented in front of you, palm outstretched for you to take.
Slowly, you let your gaze meet his, heated glare ignoring his offering as you refused to move. One last act of defiance. And one Aemond did not take lightly. Pain bloomed in your shoulder as you were roughly yanked forwards, and thrown backwards against the bed. Cregan shouted from behind you, the chair creaking beneath him.
“I said, strip.” Aemond growled.
Your eyes flicked to Cregan, and then up towards Ser Cole who watched with conflicted eyes.
“Please,” You begged softly again, keeping your eyes on Ser Criston, “Not him too. Not Ser Cole.”
A shifting of armour moved from behind Aemond, and a small ‘Your Grace’ fell from the knights lips.
Aemond spun, momentarily ignoring you as he turned to the knight standing awkwardly beside Cregan Stark, “You may leave, Ser Cole.” Aemond sniffed, “I am certain our guest will behave accordingly.”
Ser Criston’s eyes flickered to yours and then to the Prince as you tried to plead to him with yours for help.
To help the daughter of the woman he was once sworn to.
But no help came.
The Dornish knight bowed his head and left without another word.
“Let her go-“
“-Ah.” Aemond turned slowly towards Cregan, slow steps coming forward until he stood towering over the northerner, “Speak again and I’ll cut out your tongue.”
“Kepus,” You stood from the bed, grasping Aemond’s elbow tightly, hoping, praying that if you asked once more that he could see reason, “Please, let him go. I am yours. I will always be yours.”
Aemond stared at you, his pupil dilated as he stared at you intently.
“Strip.”
You fought the sob that threaten to rise up your throat and slowly lifted your chin.
You would not show weakness.
You would be strong.
With shaking hands, you let your fingers find the strings at the back of your dress, and slowly but surely you pulled the laces, keeping your eyes on your husband who watched with intent.
The gown sagged against your frame, the soft material falling down your chest slowly as you held it for one last moment, hoping that it was all a test, that he would change his mind and stop this madness.
But he didn’t.
Breath held in your chest, you let the gown fall to the floor below you, leaving you in your thin shift before the two men. Cregan looked away, his eyes focusing on the stones of the wall in shame, his hands tucked into tight fists against the arm of the arm of the chair, knuckles turning white.
A shiver ran down your back as the cool of the chambers stiffened your nipples into peaks, brushing against the white of your chemise. Aemond took a slow step towards you and then another, hand lifting to brush under your chin, an attempt to direct your gaze to him. You turned your head defiantly; looking to the wall where Cregan’s gaze laid.
“Y/n.” Aemond warned softly, thumb and forefinger pinching your chin as he turned your face towards him, “Look at me.”
Reluctantly you let yourself, and all you saw was the black of his pupil as he devoured you with his darkened gaze, “You’re so beautiful.” He cooed, “My wife.”
You swallowed thickly, his hand slowly skimming down your neck raising goosebumps along your skin as his fingers came to rest against the edge of your chemise. The tips of his nails scraped softly against your skin as it slipped beneath, and with an even slower movement, he tugged the chemise down off of your shoulders, the thin material floating down to the floor below leaving you completely exposed to the two men in his chambers.
“I will not harm you, though you would deserve it.” Aemond purred, his eye roaming your exposed body, your stomach and core clenching in anticipation, “I plan to make you beg for it.”
You opened your mouth to snap at him, but in the moment his long fingers came to brush under your breast, fingers teasing your nipple softly, your mouth clamped shut. You shyly glanced at Cregan, who’s eyes were scrunched tight. Aemond followed your line of sight, sighing.
“If you do not watch,” Aemond fully turned to Cregan, “I will take out your eyes.”
Even at the One-Eyed Princes threat, Cregan did not lift his gaze from the wall. The Lord of Winterfell willing to risk his sight so that you may keep your dignity.
“Fine.” Aemond grunted, pulling the blade from his belt, “Then I shall take hers.”
Fear shot through you as you stared at Aemond tearfully, watching in your periphery as Cregan’s head turned towards you and yelled.
“No!”
“Then,” Aemond sneered, “Watch.”
With eyes filled with shame, Cregan looked up at you. You didn’t know what to do, what could make it better. What could make any of this not what it was, and so you tried to offer him a reassuring nod. A small promise that it was okay to look when all you knew was how very much it wasn’t.
“Good.” The Prince hummed.
Aemond resumed his touch against you, hand coming to cup your breast fully as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. His touch sent sparks across your chest, shame washing over you in a wave.
Aemond ducked his head towards your face, beckoning you to kiss him. Would he be gentle as he was when you were married? Would it soften his actions? Or would it only make him worse?
Deciding that you didn’t want to push what little patience he had, your eyes slid shut, breath stuck deep in your chest as you felt the heat of his body come closer, the hand on your breast skating around your ribs to pull you closer to him.
When his lips pressed against yours it was light, gentle, almost cautious, your hands staying stiff by your sides. But that softness was short lived, and soon Aemond deepened the kiss, his teeth clashing against yours roughly.
You gasped softly as his other hand wound into your hair, tugging you closer as he nipped your bottom lip roughly. Your hands instinctually came up to his chest, gripping onto his jacket tightly to steady yourself. Anger poured into the kiss, and from behind you could feel the reluctant glare of Cregan.
Aemond pulled away, your eyes fluttering open to look at him. His lips were swollen, having turned a rosy pink as a blush settled across his cheeks. His chest heaved against yours, the stitching on his coat brushing roughly against your stiffened peaks.
“Have you ever bed a woman, Stark?” Aemond asked smugly, brushing the back of your neck as you turned you to face the Northerner again, your back to Aemond’s chest.
Even as exposed as you were, Cregan’s eyes did not shift to look at your body, keeping his simmering glare on Aemond.
Clicking his tongue, Aemond continued, “I’m sure you’ve fucked wildlings and mudmen alike, being a man of the North.” An arm wrapped around the front of your chest, breasts squeezed beneath the toned arm of your uncle behind you, “Tell me, are Winterfells brothels full of sheep like the Vale? Or maybe they’re full of pigs since you’re both fond of the mud.”
The chair beneath Cregan creaked, his jaw tensing in anger as Aemond taunted him. His pale eyes narrowed, lips tensed together in a sneer as his nostrils flared, breathing heavily whilst his hands gripped the arms of the chair tightly.
“No? Hm.” Aemond’s other hand slid across the skin of your back, travelling around to the front of your stomach slowly, brushing his fingertips along your hip bone as he continued, “You see, Stark, mudmen of the North have no place with the blood of Valyria. The Blood of the Dragon would never sully itself by laying with a Northerner. Nor would a Princess.” His hand continued to dip down, fingers brushing into the hair atop your mound.
Your back arched in instinct, trying to escape his hand, but it only pushed your backside into his clearly hardened member, “Targaryens don’t fuck like animals,” His voice dipped lower, “We bring pleasure to our lovers.”
Aemond’s hand continued down, parting your folds with a finger, seeking out the heat and slick that had gathered at your entrance. Once found, Aemond’s chest vibrated from behind with an appreciative hum, dragging a long slender finger from your entrance, back up to your pearl. You jerked in his hold as he pushed lightly against it, slowly and torturously swirling the digit against your bud, your arousal aiding his movements.
You watched Cregan curiously, the urge to hide yourself strong. His eyes never once left Aemond as he continued to bring you soft pleasure. The Stark’s chest rose and fell shallowly as he glared at the man behind you, who watched back with impatience.
“I won’t tell you again.” Aemond purred, fingers dipping down to your entrance as he suddenly shoved one long finger inside of you, causing you to gasp at the small sting, “Watch her, or I blind her.”
Cregan’s eyes shut as he took a shaky breath, Aemond’s finger crooking inside of you, pressing against your front wall roughly. A whine fell from your lips causing the icy blue eyes to catch yours finally. Cregan swallowed thickly as you stared at one another, your hands gripping the sleeve of Aemond’s arm across your chest, twisting the material between your fingers as you shifted your hips back, pressing against him as he sped up his fingers movement.
Cregan’s stare was hard, his eyes apologetic, watching you shift against your husband behind you as he began to fuck his finger inside of you, the sound of your slick filling the room. Your face flushed with embarrassment.
“She’s quite reactive,” Aemond purred, slipping his finger from within you to rub at your bud again, causing you to jerk in his hold, his arm tightening further around your chest, “Her body knows what it wants, even when she tries to fight it. Do you hear how she needs me?”
Aemond’s finger moved back to your entrance, but instead of one, he forced in a second, the ache from the night before settling within you again.
“Gods.” You whispered softly, pain and pleasure mixing into a confusing blend. Your head fell back against Aemond’s shoulder as he sped up his hand, fucking his fingers inside of you roughly. All you could do was lean your weight back against him, his arm the only thing that held you upright as his arousal pressed into the small of your back.
A familiar warmth began to build within you quickly, a coil rapidly tightening within your gut as Aemond switched from fucking you with his hand, to rubbing slick circles against your pearl. You scrunched your eyes shut, mouth going slack as your breath hitched. You were so close, so close, to reaching your peak, but each time you would almost get there, Aemond would slow his hand down.
You whined in his arms, shifting as you just wished it would end, wishing he would let you peak. It was torture. And with each time he did it, the frustration and desperation built, a light sheen of sweat covering your skin.
“What is the matter?” Aemond cooed into your ear, his fingers slowing to almost a halt, “Did you need something?”
You huffed a breath through your nose, eyes scrunching shut as you tried to thrust your hips into his hand, anything to alleviate the pressure that was strung to snap at any moment. You didn’t care anymore, you just needed it to end. Aemond’s fingers stopped, hovering over your pearl.
You didn’t even want to think of what you must have looked like, bare, hair likely a mess, and body aching for release.
All while Cregan Stark watched.
“If you want something,” Aemond’s lips came to the side of your ear, pressing a ghostly kiss to them, “You need only ask.”
You bit on your bottom lip, willing yourself to not give in, to not give him what he wanted, but all you could think about was reaching your peak. Logically, you told yourself it was for Cregan’s sake so that it could all end quickly, but in reality, it was so that the throbbing in your core would cease, and the sweet feeling of relief could wash over you like it had the night before.
“Come now, you’re not one to hold your tongue. Ask.”
You wet your lips timidly, keeping your eyes shut in shame, not wanting to see Cregan’s face as you begged for the man behind you to touch you again as he watched.
A sharp sting shot through your centre, your eyes springing open as you gasped, you gaze immediately meeting the cold icy glare of Cregan, who’s fists tightened around the arms of the chair.
“Speak.” Aemond commanded, voice sharper in your ear as he watched Cregan tensing to the chair he was tied to.
Your mouth felt dry, and you licked at your lips once more before you softly whispered, “Please.”
“Please what?”
Cregan’s gaze looked back to yours, his eyes softened.
“Please,” You begged softly, “Touch me.”
You heard Aemond hummed from behind you, his finger slowly pressing into your cunt as he gathered slick from your entrance to drag back up to your bud.
“Like this?” He purred, slowly making circles against you, the coil within tightening again.
All you could do was nod, but that was not the answer that Aemond demanded. His fingers left your pearl as he waited, and you huffed in frustration.
“Touch me. Please, Aemond.” You weakly begged, eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment, not wanting to see Cregan’s face.
His touched resumed once more, but the arm wrapped around your chest shifted, his hand coming to grasp your chin as he lifted your head to look squarely at Cregan, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks.
“All you needed to do was ask, sweet wife.” Aemond purred, the movement speeding up, bringing you closer and closer to your peak, “I want you to wet my hand, and watch him whilst you do it. If you do not,” His voice dipped low, fingers pressing almost painfully against you, “I will know.”
You swallowed dryly and nodded your head in his grasp, feeling your peak begin to barrel towards you. Cregan watched your face, his own a soft pink and ice blue eyes half lidded.
“Does this feel good? Am I making you nice and wet?” Aemond cooed, hand plucking pleasure from you in ways you didn’t know was possible.
You nodded weakly, “Yes.”
“You can do better than that. Tell him what it feels like.”
Your eyes widened, embarrassment flaring inside of you.
“Tell him or I’ll stop.”
“It-“ You paused, swallowing the last of your pride, “It feels good.”
“What feels good?”
“When you touch me.”
“How so?”
You exhaled shakily, shifting in his arm as his fingers softened their movements, “It feels good when you touch my cunt.”
“Sȳz riña.” Good girl, Aemond praised you, causing arousal to spark inside, “That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Does it feel good when I fuck you with my hand?”
“Yes, uncle.” You whined weakly.
“Tell Cregan that it feels good when I fuck you with my hand.”
Blinking at the man tied in the chair, you grit your teeth, “It feels good when he fucks me with his hand.”
Cregans nostrils flared as he shifted in his seat, and your head fell back against Aemond once more, “I’m close.” You panted.
You were so close, so, so close to just tipping over the edge, the smell of Aemond behind you suffocating you as heat began to rise through your body. The gaze of the man before you wavered, his eyes momentarily dipping to where Aemond’s hand was rubbing swift and slick circles. That was all it took for you to feel yourself fall undone.
You writhed against Aemond as your peak washed over you, the Northerner watching on as Aemond’s fingers became wet with your release, his gaze darting up to watch your face, jaw slack as he breathed shallowly.
“Shh, shh, shh. Good girl.” Aemond praised you, his hand finally stopping as he smoothed up and down your sides.
A warm glow settled over your body and your eyes slid shut, head lolling to Aemond’s chest behind you as you breathed deeply, the pulsing of your cunt halting any and all thoughts that you had.
But as quick as the calm had come, the quicker it left, your world tilting as you were spun and pushed back onto the bed. Your eyes shot open as you watched Aemond step towards you, Cregan observing with slight concern before you were yanked back down the bed towards the Prince by your ankles, legs splayed open.
On instinct they tried to close, too exposed to the room, but your husband wouldn’t allow it, standing between them as he held them open with his hand, his lone eye commanding you to stay still from above.
Would it be painful like the night before? Would he bring you pleasure as well? Or would it be something entirely different now that you lay down on a bed, the way that your Septa’s had told you it would happen, and certainly not inside a dirty alley in Flea Bottom?
But what your Septa’s had not informed you of was that your husband, who seemed to be more concerned with punishing you than bringing you any reward, began to kneel before the bed, his back to his prisoner.
“I need to taste how sweet you are, and then I shall fuck you.”
With a broad swipe of his tongue, Aemond parted your folds from your entrance to your bud, collecting your release on it as he went. His eye closed as he hummed, coming to lap at your folds once more, pleasure sparking up through you.
You gasped softly, the feeling foreign but not unwelcome. It was more intense than you had thought it could be, but perhaps you were over sensitive from the release you just had. You watched Aemond, his lilac eye opening to look up at you with a smirk.
He pulled away from your centre, lips wet with your slick, “You are as sweet as I thought you would be.”
Aemond stood, towering over you as he began to pull at his belt and breeches, wherein he began untying them, lace after lace ripped from its eyelet until they sagged. His shirt was pulled away, revealing the pale skin of his lower stomach, and the dusting of hair that trailed down from navel to pubis.
The Prince’s length strained against his breeches, the base of it just showing, a purple vein standing out against his starkly pale skin. You hadn’t gotten to see it properly the night before, and the sight of it made your core clench around nothing.
Before he pulled himself from the confines of his pants, Aemond grabbed you once more and shifted you to lay sideways atop his bed, the plush green sheets soft beneath your skin. Your eyes rose to the ceiling, looking at the soft canopy that lay atop before the screeching of a chair on stone caught your attention.
You snapped your head to the side, watching as Aemond effortlessly dragged Cregan by the chair closer to the bed, only an arms length away. He towered over the man from Winterfell who looked up at him with nothing but contempt.
“You’ll watch me fuck her,” Aemond began smugly, “And know that it could never be you. Know that it will never be you.” Cregan attempted to sit up higher in the seat, chest pulling at the ropes that held him back, “You’ll watch me bring peak after peak from her as she wets my cock and likes it, and you’ll remember that it was me doing it.”
“Aemond.” You tried to distract him, try to take the attention away from Cregan, who watched with burning eyes, “Please.”
The silver haired Prince turned his head towards you and smirked before looking back at Cregan, “You see? She already begs for more.” Aemond walked back towards you, only two short steps from the bed as his eye roamed your naked body, gaze settling into the crux of your thighs, “She only had me last night, and already she begs so nicely.”
With jerky movements, Aemond pulled his length from his breeches, the length and girth large and intimidating. The tip was a rosy pink, and long veins travelled up its length. A bead of arousal had begun to form on top, slowly leaking down the base as he knelt on the bed, pulling you down to meet his hips, and had you not already experienced it, you would have been filled with fear.
Aemond thrust into you quickly and sharply, pain filling you before a feeling of fullness, his tip pressing at the end of your walls. You hissed softly, hands having raised to grasp his arms, nails biting into his skin beneath his shirts.
Your husband leant down, lips brushing against your cheek as it moved to your ear, “Do you like when I spear you on my cock?” He purred, his breath tickling your neck.
With clenched teeth you nodded, willing your body to adjust to his size quickly.
“Use your words, you’re not a mute.”
“Yes.” You grit out, turning your head away from him as he loomed above you, arms on either side of your head as he lay between your parted thighs.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Aemond.”
“Close.
You swallowed, “Yes, Husband.”
“Good.” Aemond pulled out of you swiftly before he thrust back in, “Girl.”
You exhaled sharply, the angle so far different from the night before. He felt deeper, more intense, everywhere all at once.
It was overwhelming.
You scrunched your eyes shut as Aemond began to rut into you, your hands not once leaving his arms as you clutched onto him, shifting your hips to alleviate the way his tip pressed harshly against your cervix with each thrust.
His hips clapped against yours brutally, speeding up, the movement shifting you up the bed as you squeaked with each impact, a warmth beginning to pool in your gut once more. The hair at the base of his cock brushed against your pearl roughly as his pelvis slid against yours, the stimulation winding that all too familiar coil again.
A moan broke free from your lips as Aemond shook a hand free, hoisting up one of your legs atop his hip, shifting the angle entirely so that his cock brushed against the small spongey patch within you deliciously, pleasure sending sparks through your limbs. Your eyes were shut so tightly, you could see stars behind them, your bottom lip gnawed between teeth.
“Open your eyes.” Aemond breathed from above, his pace not once faltering.
Your head tipped to the side, away from where Cregan sat, eyes still scrunched shut as you whined beneath him.
“I said,” Aemond grunted, hand roughly coming to grasp your chin as he turned your head back towards Cregan, “Open.”His fingers squeezed painfully against your jaw, bruises likely to show in the morning, your eyes finally opening to find Cregan watching you already.
“Lord Stark knows how to follow orders. He’s not once taken his eyes off you.” Aemond purred, thrusting particularly sharply into you causing you to wince, “Do you think he wishes he were I?”
Your mouth felt dry again, and all you could do was watch as the blush on Cregan’s cheeks depend and his eyes momentarily flashed away form you before returning, remembering Aemond’s threat.
“I think he does, sweet wife. I think he wishes that he was in your tight, wet, cunt as I am now. Don’t you agree?”
Your breasts moved with each thrust, the sound of your slick sliding against his length loud as it was before as you huffed beneath your husband.
Aemond’s fingers tightened against your jaw, “I asked you a question.”
“Yes.”
Another squeeze.
“I do.” You breathed, your face suddenly feeling flushed.
The man on top of you pulled out suddenly, hands moving under your sides to flip you over onto your stomach.
“Do not-“ You began angrily.
“-Quiet.” Aemond snapped, grabbing your hips as he pulled you up onto your knees, your hands fisting the sheets as you looked ahead, uncertainty filling your features before you felt the head of Aemond cock slide through your folds, and push straight back inside.
“Fuck you.” You hissed as he began to fuck into you, “Gods.” The angle made you feel even fuller than before, but shallower too, his length constantly batting against your walls as his hips clapped against your ass.
You struggled to stay upright as he continued, his grip on your hips painful as he pulled you back onto him, the air being punched from your lungs each time, making you gasp out small little high pitched huffs. A hand in your hair wrenched your head back and then to the side, directing your face to meet the Stark’s who’s eyes were not on your own, but instead upon your body.
The heat of his gaze caused you to clamp down on Aemond’s length, the Lord’s roaming eyes watching as the Princes cock buried itself over and over inside of you, before slowly roaming back up your body, catching sight of your breasts below you as they moved, and then finally to your face.
Seeing that he was caught, Cregan flushed, eyes casting down briefly before looking back up at you. He shifted against the chair, hands still tightly clenched against the arm, chest heaving, his thick muscled thighs clenching against the seat, and to-
Oh.
Cregan shifted again, knowing where your gaze had fallen, his hips trying to shift back against the wooden chair, but there was nothing to hide the hardening length within his dark leathered breeches, which pressed painfully to the front of his pants.
Your core clenched again, and from behind you heard Aemond grunt.
You should have been upset, you should have been horrified, but all it did was set the heat that was already simmering in your gut ablaze, your nipples stiffening to peaks. Instinctually you arched your back, hoping to better the view, which got another grunt of appreciation from your husband, who’s pace was yet to falter, his stamina owed to years of hard work in the training yard with Ser Criston Cole.
Cregan’s lips parted as he watched you, the pink of his tongue coming out to wet his lips, and that was all it took for you to come undone. You cried out loudly, keeping your eyes on Cregan as Aemond fucked you through your release, triggering his own. He came with a growl, his hips slowing to a halt as you felt his seed pulse inside of you.
You collapsed against the bed, eyes half lidded as you watched Cregan shift again against his chair as Aemond slowly pulled out of you with a hiss. Warmth dripped from your folds and down your thighs as you felt the soft press of kiss against your shoulder blades.
Your uncle manoeuvred you on the bed again, your body pliant in his hands as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, legs spread wide for Cregan to see. The man’s pale eyes drifted down to between your thighs, watching hungrily as Aemond’s spend dripped out from within you.
“Tell me Cregan,” Aemond stood by the bed panting, tucking his length back into his breeches whilst he brushed a loose hair over your shoulder, “Did you enjoy watching me fuck my wife?”
The taunt earnt him a sneer.
“An honest question deserving of an honest answer. I thought Stark’s were known for the honesty and oaths?” Aemond pressed.
You breathed heavily as you watched Cregan’s gaze fell to you and only you in that moment as his answer was given.
“Yes.”
There was no denying the edge of arousal that roughened the edge of his answer.
“Hm.” A beat, “Would you like a taste?”
You brows furrowed as you looked up to your husband, who kept his eye on Cregan, his hand atop your shoulder brushing gently in thought.
A taste?
Did he mean to-
Your heart leapt into your throat, watching as Aemond took his blade from his side and moved towards the Stark man.
“Stop!” You yelled, watching as Cregan did not flinch when Aemond approached him.
“Worry not, I mean no harm. I am feeling generous.” Aemond purred, lifting the blade towards Cregan, “He watched dutifully as I put my seed inside of you.” His lilac eye dropped to Cregan’s hardened member, “And it seems that he has enjoyed it.” The Prince turned to face you, “I only wish to give him a parting gift. Something to remember… to agonise over for years to come.”
With a swift hand, Aemond sliced the ropes that bound Cregan's chest to the back of the chair, the Northerner staying still in his seat. The tall Targaryen bent down and cut the ropes on the mans legs loose, one by one.
“Now,” Aemond stood to his full height again, pointing his blade towards Cregan’s wrists, still tied to the chair, “Know that I have your men in a holding cell, and should you try anything, I shall have them all cut into seven pieces and strung about the gates.” Aemond paused, his gaze hardening, “And then I will stay true to my word.”
Cregan’s chest heaved with anger as he watched the prince, still not speaking a word.
“Do we understand each other?” Aemond questioned him, one silver brow lifted in challenge.
Cregan’s jaw clenched, a click audible to the chambers, “Yes.” He growled.
Aemond hummed in acknowledgement and released his hands, taking a step back as Cregan stood slowly, rubbing at his raw wrists as he looked at you on the bed. His head turned back towards your husband, uncertain of what he meant.
Impatiently Aemond thrust his arm towards you, blade still in hand, “Go to her. Taste how sweet she is, and know that you will never taste her again.”
Cregan shifted on his feet uncomfortably, looking to you for permission, for denial.
You didn’t know what to do, or what to say, so instead, you widened your legs in invitation, feeling desire begin to stir in you once more.
It was wrong.
But Gods did you need it.
“Clean her up.” Aemond commanded, and with slow and cautious steps, Cregan walked towards you.
The scent of Aemond was overpowered by that of Cregan’s. He smelt of cedar wood and fur, and the soft smell of musk beneath it all that just felt right for a Northerner.
It felt as if each stepped dragged on for days. You shifted against the bed nervously, casting your eyes to Aemond, who watched with a desire of his own.
Cregan dropped to his knees, his hands twitching by the side of your hips on the bed, cautious to even touch you, a stark difference to the way Aemond simply took. The dark haired man looked up at you breathlessly as you gave him a nod, shifting your hips towards him again, likings the way his eyes dropped down to your centre and then back up.
His large calloused hands grasped the soft meat of your hips, his eyes keeping on yours as he leant froward slowly, the heat of his breath fanning across your sensitive folds. Your mouth parted as you panted above him, watching as he wet his lips before finally pressing a chaste kiss to your core.
A soft moan escaped your mouth, head dropping back momentarily, giving him a strike of confidence before burying his tongue between your folds. You dropped back onto the bed, hands coming to grasp his hair as he licked and suckled at your folds, lapping at both your and Aemond’s release which only served to spark your desire further, that same familiar coil winding rapidly.
You tilted your head to watch him, his eyes still on you as you began to come undone on his tongue. Your name pulled you away from his stare, and you turned your head to face Aemond who watched hungrily from beside, his jaw tensed.
Already sensitive from such an intense night already, you writhed against Cregan’s mouth with a moan, his ministrations bringing you to your peak swiftly, your slick gushing into his mouth. You kept your eyes on Aemond this time, watching as he breathed deeply, his cock already beginning to swell in his breeches.
You panted and whined as the pleasure became too much, and only then did Cregan remove his face from between your thighs, roughly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
The chambers became still as you all breathed deeply, warmth spreading through your limbs as you couldn’t decide who to look at for longest.
Your husband.
Or the Northerner.
All you could think about was what you had done.
What had just transpired.
Your husband had trapped a Lord of the North in his chambers and forced him to watch you be fucked by him, and not only that, commanded that he cleaned you after. But what was the most confusing part of all, was that all in the chambers seemed to have liked it.
“Cole.” Aemond’s voice broke the stillness of the room, the door to the chambers opening swiftly.
Cregan stepped in front of you to shield your body from Ser Cole at the same time Aemond did, his back turning to his knight as he grabbed the sheet of the bed to drape over your exposed body.
The knight entered, flagged by two guards.
Confusion flashed across Cregan’s face as he stiffened, body gearing itself up for a fight.
“Relax, Stark.” Aemond mused, not even bothering to look at the man as he observed the guards, eye landing on Ser Cole again, “Take Cregan and his men to the travel roads. Ensure they have food for travel and water for the ride. They are to leave Kings Landing immediately to return back to Winterfell.”
Ser Cole nodded, as did the guards who swiftly approached Cregan, grabbing each arm as they began to remove him from Aemond’s chambers. The dark haired man looked back at you in confusion as you clutched the sheet your chest, unsure of what to do.
“Stark.” Aemond called out before the dark haired mans foot could cross the threshold. The Northerner stilled, eyes suspicious, “Expect a raven.”
Without another word, the guards pulled Cregan out of the room, Criston shutting the door behind them. The silence in the chambers was nerve-racking, and you turned to look at your uncle, who was already making his way to fill two goblets of wine.
Your mouth opened, a myriad of questions ready to pour out your mouth, but as usual, Aemond seemed to be one step ahead.
“You’re my wife.” He began, the sound of wine filling goblets. He turned with them in hand, coming to stand beside the bed as he handed you one.
You kept one hand with the sheets against your breast, the other shakily grasping the goblet, fatigue weighing your body down. Aemond spun to sit in the very chair that Cregan had been tied to, the ropes still on the floor in a heap.
“Our marriage is one of a prospect of peace, not love.” His words stung you in a way you didn’t realise they could, “Though, I do hope to change that one day. I wish to make you happy,” He paused, taking a sip from his goblet as he thought carefully, “And it would be remiss of me to say that what just happened didn’t spark something within me.”
You frowned, “I do not understand.”
“You looked like a Queen having him kneel before you.”
A beat.
“My Queen."
Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to any tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3
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Hello there darling, I was wondering if you could write a young aegon and reader, where aegon and reader are to be married and reader is close with aemond so instead of Alicent comming in its the reader then aegon get reader to help get him off?
If not not a problem
“The Bond We Share” [ Young!Aegon!Targaryen X Sister!Reader X Young!Aemond ]
Warnings: Incest, swearing, expletives, wanking, vulgarity, No use of y/n, aegon and the reader is married, cussing, there is no romantic relationship between aemond and the reader, jealous aegon, mention of sex.
a/n: I wish you like it! I hope this is what you wanted ✨!.
“They gave me a PIG! ” Aemond replied, avoiding eye contact with you he was sad and feels insulted.
“A what? ”You said in a puzzled and sympathetic tone towards your little brother you knew this was Aegon's stupid pranks.
“They said they found dragon for me but it was a pig.... they all laughed” he said with a shy tone and a defeated voice. you felt bad for your little brother.
“You will have a dragon one day! ”You replied to him, placing both your hands on his shoulders and your eyes stare into his violet eyes. Aemond immediately hugged you and wrapped his small arms around your waist. You were taller than him, of course.
“They are making fun of me sister” He muttered, and still wrapping his arms around you. “I doubt it...Everyone laughs at me when I ask for one...They laugh at me...I mean look at me...” he said in a low voice as he looked away.
you kneel to become parallel to his height.. you cup his cheeks and looks at him, “Don’t say those things about yourself, my dear, you are a Targaryen ”. You told him and looked him in the eye.
He sniffed and his lip quivered, he looked away as he was trying to hold in his tears, “Yeah...I am...but I am the only Targaryen who doesn't have a dragon...I get bullied for having no dragon...and I am told I'm not a true Targaryen,” he replied in a low voice again.
“Who told you that? Rhaenyra's bastards? ”
He sniffled again, “Yeah...sometimes they call me, the dragonless ...and even Aegon makes fun of me,”. he replied with a shaky voice and he wanted that hug again. she hugs him again "it's okay.. it's okay.. I will deal with him" you replied.
He buries his head into your shoulder and he sniffled some more "thank you..." he mumbled in a low voice whilst hugging her back.
Now you were on your way towards your future husband's chambers You can't, but you feel some frustration and anger combined at the same time.You tried hard to calm down and discuss it calmly with him,the both of you quick to get angry.
When you finally reached the door of his room, you sighed quietly and opened the door completely calm. well It was an expected scene. You were not shocked or surprised by his actions.
Aegon was standing at the window, completely naked, with his back facing the door, so he didn't notice you when you entered his room you could hear his low groans. Suddenly you found yourself staring at his ass and his naked body and a wave of lust rushed through you.
But you quickly caught yourself and remembered why you came.. so you sighed and said in a low voice.
“Was it your plan?”
Aegon froze for a second “oh- fuck”. He fell on his bed, he covers his private parts his vision blurring, and he was unable to recognize you directly. He pushed his long strands of hair away from his face and looked at you. He answered you in a hoarse and slightly breathless voice.
“D- darling you scared me ”.
“The pig”. You looked at him with a disappointed look and moved closer.. “Was it your plan?”.
“Y- yes”He replied to you in a breathy voice, then he composed himself and looked at you. You're still standing there slouched and waiting for an explanation from him.
“What? Did the mouse complained to you again?”.
“Aemond is your brother.. our brother”. You said and crossed your arms together.
“He's a twat!”. He replied in a sour tone.
“He's child Aegon! you can't do that in front of our half-sister bastards.. do you think rhaenyra's sons would be your play things forever? ”.
“It was funny! ”.
“He is our brother! we have to defend each other this is the bond we share aegon! ”.
“Why are you so angry?”.
You hold your head and bite your lip to maintain your composure “Don't fool me aegon!”.
“Gods! darling! why are you acting like mother?Besides, why are you defending him so much! How does he will become a man and you defend him like this,Do you like him?”
“WTF Aegon! Don't be so silly he's a child!”. You respond, dismissing aegon's comment you didn't like it at all it was ridiculous comment.
“I am serious! he's sticks to you like glue!”.
“Aegon-
He gets out of his bed and pushes the sheets to stand directly in front of you, exposing his naked body to you. You didn't break eye contact with him.
“Besides, i'm older and i'm better suited to it than him,”. he said, smugly.
“Shut up-
Aegon rolled his eyes, “Whatever...I'm allowed to have an opinion and I am allowed to be right”.
“He's your brother!”
Aegon was silent before he looked away, “So? That doesn't change anything...He is weak...and because of that, he should not have a dragon...and when he doesn't get one, he'll be a disgrace to the Targaryens...like the pig boy he is,” Aegon stated coldly.
You can't help but slap him aegon was stunned and he backed away a bit as a red mark appeared on his cheek, "You slapped me?!" Aegon exclaimed in a surprised and angry tone.
“I did”.
Aegon pulled her so closely to her as his grip on her hair tightened, “He is pathetic...Weak...He doesn't deserve a dragon...” Aegon said with seething animosity in his voice.
“Besides, why don’t you take off your clothes, sis? Let's forget about our idiot brother and enjoy our time ”. he whispered.
“Take off your clothes..” Aegon said again as his hands rubbed her hips.
“Aeg- No stop”.
Aegon looked at her as a devilish grin appeared on his face and he replied in a low voice, "Why should I?".
“Because I have no wish to fuck you now”.
His grin became even bigger as his hands started to travel along her curves, "Sure about that?" he whispered with a smirk on his face. you nodded and he put his fingers under your dress to check when his cold fingers touched your wet pussy, he smiled he wiped the liquid with his fingers, then removed his hand from your dress to taste your taste on his finger.
“Little lying whore”. he whispered and put his finger in his mouth. You felt heat spreading through your body as his fingers began to work their magic on you. For a moment, you forgot the reason for your argument with him.
He pushed you on the bed and pinned you under him to begin his work with you. You had already interrupted him, so he will finish what he started but with you.
“You can't do anything about it, can you? You're mine." Aegon murmured and he leaned even closer to her face, "And I can do whatever I want with you”.
You looked at him with your big blue eyes.. “Aegon.”... he looked back at her with a smug smile on his face, "Yes?".
“Fuck you”. You said before pulling his face towards you and poking his lips. Your teeth were scratching the soft flesh of his lips.
He gasped as she said those words and when her teeth started scratching the soft flesh of his lips, his eyes lit up as he leaned into her and started kissing her more aggressively, he pulled her against his body as he made out with her passionately.
– Taglist ♡ : @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @credulouskhaleesi @darylandbethfanforever9
#house of the dragon#aegon ii targaryen#aegon headcanons#aegon the second#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon fanfic#hotd aegon#aegon x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd#aegon imagine#ty tennant#aegon targaryen ii x you#aegon x you#aegon targaryen#requests#imagine#aemond targaryen#aemond fanfiction#aemond x reader#aegon targaryen x you#aegon x y/n#aegon targaryen smut#aegon ii#hotd aemond
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Tourney Injuries and a Proposal
Description: While you and Helaena are watching the tourney, your former betrothed injures Aemond.
You sit beside Helaena watching as the knights galloped at each other, their lances shattering each other’s shields, one knocking the other from his horse.
“I just don’t understand the appeal of these things.” You said, grimacing as an agonized scream rang out from below.
“I believe the displays of strength are considered quite attractive.” Helaena said, her eyes searching the men standing on the sidelines. “Oh, there’s Aemond, in the black armor.”
You stood and rushed to the railing as he stepped into the ring, burying your hands in your skirts, your heart pounding against your chest like dragon wings in a storm.
He noticed you and made his way over, confidence in every step that brought him closer to you. “Fair Lady y/n, might I request your favor?” He called up to you, a playful smirk on his lips.
You threw your handkerchief down to him, and he caught it, pressing it to his lips before tucking it in his pocket
“Good luck, my prince.” You said, eyes filled with fear.
Aemond never entered tourneys, claimed they were a worthless waste of time, but after your former betrothed, a young lord from House Tully had insulted you, Aemond suddenly found them worth his time.
He patted his pocket. “I don’t need luck, when I have the favor of the most beautiful maiden in all the realm to protect me.”
You ducked your head, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I’m honored by your words, Prince Aemond.”
He reentered the ring, and you returned to your seat.
“It seems that Aemond is going against Lord Tybalt.” Helaena said, a tinge of worry in her lilting voice.
You grabbed her hand, stomach churning. “No. This will not end well.”
Tybalt was your former betrothed, a strong man, he had a nasty temper, and no fear of striking those who angered him.
Aemond himself had saved you from Tybalt’s anger when the Tully lord had caught you both in what looked to be a compromising position, but really was a misunderstanding.
You’d been sitting under the Godswood with Aemond when a spider dropped from the tree and made its way beneath your gown’s neckline.
In your panic, you shrieked at Aemond to get rid of it, and he sliced open your bodice with his dagger, plucking the spider and flicking it away from you.
Tybalt walked in on Aemond’s hand gripping the shredded fabric of your bodice, his other hand on your waist as he tried to calm you.
You watched with bated breath as the two men circled each other. Tybalt was snarling something at Aemond and your grip on Helaena’s hand tightened when he lunged.
Aemond easily dodged his blade before returning the blow.
They went back and forth, and once it seemed Aemond was to win, you relaxed, taking your eyes away from the match.
Gasping and a frightened scream made you whip your head back to the duel.
Tyblat collapsed Aemond’s sword through his abdomen, but Aemond was kneeling in the sand, his hands covering his face.
“Y/n, wait.” Helaena yelled, as you bolted out of your seat and down the stairs.
The maesters were already ushering Aemond to their tent, and you followed behind them, fear gripping your lungs.
You pushed aside the fabric to see Aemond surrounded by maesters. “Aemond—”
“Out, everyone out.” He ordered, pushing the maseters away from him with his free hand.
They scurried out, but you stayed put.
“Someone remove Lady y/n.” He shouted, turning his face from you.
You elbowed the maester who tried to grab you and rushed up to Aemond cupping his face. “Aemond, are you hurt? Let me see.”
He tried to shake you off, but you stood your ground.
Aemond removed his hand slowly, and you sucked in a breath.
“I’m hideous, I’m aware.” He growled.
You picked up a clean cloth and dipped it in the nearby bowl of water, gently bringing it to his face. “Hideous? My prince, you are more beautiful than the sun setting over the Narrow Sea.”
He looked at you warily, but allowed you to dab at the cut on his face. “It’s not very deep, does it hurt?” You asked, quietly apologizing when he hissed in pain. “I feel responsible, I should have tried harder to explain the situation to Tybalt, but…”
“But?” He echoed, his hand resting on your hip.
You wrung the cloth out before re-wetting it. “I have no real answer for him that would quell his anger. I can’t lie, and say I'm not fond of you, or that I didn’t wish that perhaps your gaze could have fallen upon my skin in a more intimate setting.” You admitted, not meeting his eye.
“He was the fool who tried to take out my eye, not you. You were merely the victim of a spider.” He chuckled. “Besides, his aim was terrible, he got the wrong eye.”
“Well, I’m glad it is, I don’t know what I’d do if you were injured because of me.” You said softly, focused on your task.
His hand caught your wrist. “Y/n.”
“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” You asked worriedly, dropping the cloth back in the water.
He shook his head and his hand slid behind your neck, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against yours, his violet eye flickering up to yours.
You rested your hand on his chest and leaned forward, pressing your lips to his.
His free hand grasped your waist as he spread his legs, pulling you flush against him. “Marry me.” He breathed against your lips, his thumb caressing the nape of your neck.
“Truly?” You asked, praying to The Seven, this wasn't a cruel jest.
He nodded, sapphire glinting in the low light. “Allow me to make your wish come true.” He connected your lips in a heated kiss, lips pulling you under, the taste of peppermint and mead intoxicating your sense, his scent of leather, and dragon surrounding you.
His grip on you tightened as you returned the kiss eagerly, your fingers gripping his tunic, as you let out a small whimper.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You smiled into the kiss and giggled when he stood and swept you off your feet.
He kissed you once more, leaving you breathless and dizzy with joy as he carried you out of the tent and towards the stands where his mother sat.
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96
Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, and requests are open right now!!!!
#aemond x reader#prince aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond fluff#not a request just a thought I had#aemond one eye#aemond fic#aemond oneshot#hotd aemond#aemond imagine#aemond x you#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x female reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen imagine#meg's writing#hotd#hotd fanfic
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The decay of marital flesh
Authors Note: This has taken months to complete, and I am so happy that people have taken time to ask me about this and have wanted to have a part two of my original oneshot that I didn’t know would get so popular. So here’s the depressive thing that took me months to compete cause I needed to be in an angsty mood to write. Here’s my blood and angst
Summary: A part two of this piece here. This is the depressing version of it and the other happy part will be linked to this part here.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of f oral, self harm, blood, kinslaying, cheating on partner (I’ve probably no doubt missed warnings so if you see any you think I should add then let me know!)
Taglist: @ietss, @papichulo120627, @rorawinters, @introverbatim, @alicentswife, @brie-annwyl, @victoriagaunt, @kyla44, @pax-2735, @omgbcat @bellameshipper, @coolsiaisaqueenstuff, @snh96, @devils-blackrose, @blue-serendipity, @dahlias-and-marigolds, @glame, @jennifer0305, @humanpurposes, @valeskafics, @aemondwhoresworld @leiakim99
Whenever you slept, somehow the weight of the letter always found a way to haunt you. Whenever your hand managed to sweep under and made direct contact with the paper, it practically burned to the touch with no explanation how.
Klarissa had soon became one of your trusted, friends? She would come into your chambers to place your food in the morn and look at you intently and with questions she herself knew would remain unanswered. You never spoke to her again of the contents of the original letter, nor did she ever thankfully attempt to ever bring it up. It was thing about her you found yourself grateful for.
Though it seemed Klarissas silence on the topic may soon be broken. As recently, more letters, similar to the original, were beginning to make themselves known to you.
Though this time, you cannot bring yourself to read them. You can only stare at them while they burn into nothing in your fireplace. You can only watch as whatever words and meaning they once possessed become ash and soot. Maybe they were letters asking for forgiveness? Or asking for a conference where he begged for you to not spill his blood just as you instructed him that you would? Either way, you held firm belief that nothing of that sort would be happening.
Not while Aemond continued to breathe, and to live.
Aemond does not believe that you are reading any of his letters any more. The maid who had given to you his first letter, whose eyes once held fear of his position, now hold only sympathy and sadness. She doesn’t need to say what he had been fearing. It’s written plain and clearly all over her face.
Still, he can’t help but wish to cry at the realisation, even though he knew it would happen some time or later. An act he does not even think he’s done since he was robbed of his eye. Yet his sudden loss of you, the one person who he should have protected and been with, brings to him more emotion throughout his entire body than he’s felt in his entire life. Even when his sorrow begins to spread through out him, throughout his soul, the tears do not fall. He cannot dare let them. He cannot appear weak in front of the court. He cannot dare appear to be weak in front of you.
His chambers seem all too empty when he enters them. The bed appears stiff and uninviting. The books appear meaningless and empty. Even the fire seems too cold. Even when he begins edging closer and closer to the flames until he’s practically face to face with them.
“Aemond, what are you doing?!” His mothers frantic voice breaks him from his trance before he could fully put his arm in the fire. Only hearing the sudden frantic sound of his mother’s voice does he begin feeling the heat of the flames against his skin. It’s an addictive feeling, as for the first time in months he feels alive. It feels like your fiery touch is caressing him again.
“It does not matter mother… why are you here?” Aemond curtly says, begrudgingly stepping away from the flames to look at her with a soulless eye.
“Aemond, my son, I’m afraid that the court are beginning to talk. They question your marriage, they question your-“
“I do not care about what the people question mother!” Aemond shouts. Raw emotion and anger overflowing from his skin in waves as he stalks to his mother and grips her arms roughly in emphasis of his frustration. He can feel his unkempt nails digging into her arms, and he can even see the slight fear that slowly envelopes her. Yet still, he does not relent on his hold of her, even when she tries to escape from him. “The people do not know how it is I have suffered! How much my wife has suffered! I will not have those insufferable cunts dictating things about my own marriage!”
His nails unknowingly leave small dents in his mother’s arms. His nails which have grown long from neglect begin to draw into her skin so deeply that even with the clothing between the two, he nearly manages draws blood. It’s not even until she begins to wince and voice her pain does Aemond notice what he’s doing to her. What he’s doing to his own mother.
“M-mother I-“
“Save it Aemond. I know you are mourning in your own way. I know that your wife is mourning. She is mourning my son because it was you who betrayed the scared vows the two of you spoke together, and insisted that you drew blood for. It is well within her right to burst down these doors and draw that same blood from you with her own blade. I will not let you drag that girl down with you my son, just because you wish to cling to a long rotted away life that you yourself threw away, all for a fucking bastard wet nurse belonging to house strong!”
Aemond does not move when his mother shouts as him. He does not even blink when his mother’s passionate anger leaves small spit trails on his face. For everything she just said is true. It was him who broke the scared marital bond between him and you. For that, he should suffer no less than a thousand cuts.
Aemonds single eye goes back to the fire where he had sat earlier, and goes to sit there once more. Once again, he does not truly feel the heat it should be providing him. He adds a couple loose logs in the fire, prodding them around slightly with an iron poker.
Aemond drops it though when a log jolts suddenly and startles him, and hisses when the red hot poker makes contact with his upper thigh, burning him. Though he cannot deny the slight satisfaction it brings him to feel the pain flare through his clothes. So he strips himself till he is only in his underclothes, and he does it again, and again. Hissing under his breath each time it makes contact with the pale skin. Maybe this is how he will get closer to you? How he will successfully manage to feel the pain that you felt when you had to push the physical manifestation of his betrayal curse you? He knows it is unlike anything he could ever truly experience, but he has to try. For you, and for the baby he will never meet.
When you begin burning the next letter in the fire, adjusting it slightly with the poker hanging on the side of the fireplace, you can hear an unknown person entering the room with an audible creak coming from the direction of the door. Klarissa had slyly mentioned a few days previous how it was like that due to your infrequent comings and goings. If you didn’t know her name and respect her slightly, you probably would’ve had her relocated immediately for such cheek.
“I think my brother takes great time and thought into writing those letters princess.” A distinctive voice and nickname causes a rare smile to form, still looking at the fire before you.
“Good. Then maybe he’ll learn to be sorry and he’ll learn what my pain was like.” Your voice is surprisingly cold, even with such a warm smile on your lips. It even surprises yourself slightly.
“Well, as much as I do appreciate your determination for damning my brother, I don’t think he’ll share that same sentiment. Do you even read them? Or do you just immediately condemn them to ash? Because I’d hate to think some poor soul like my mother writes a letter to you only to have it thrown to the flames…”
“I’m not that overcome with anger, my prince. I do look at the handwriting of the letters before I, as you so plainly put it, condemn them to ash.” It’s almost annoying how easy it is for Aegon to make you smile. He’s become the light to shine you through your dark ages. A friend amongst the snakes and the thorns that weave and poison the court, looking only in ways to further their power.
“How many times have I told you sweet princess to call me Aegon? I think after everything we’ve done and been through together, we’d have been properly acquainted with each others company. As much as my little brother utterly detests the very idea of it.” Aegon now sits beside you at the fire, his everything already making your tensed frame ease into a more calm and relaxed one. He does not make any move to stop you from making sure the letter is properly burned into nothingness. An act you appreciate immensely.
“My brother, was a fool to believe he needed someone else to comfort him...”
The quick comment is also quickly followed by a deathly sort of silence in the room. The only thing being able to penetrate it being the comforting sound of the crackling flames.
Though not a few minutes after, from the corner of your eye, you can spot Aegons hand slowly and cautiously placing itself on your arm, drawing your attention to him as you cautiously drop the poker and turn to him. His face looks like the one of a deer when it’s caught in a trap, fear and panic. Though by the way he had approached you, it was as if he was trying to approach an unpredictable creature from the forest. A beast.
“Can I be so bold princess, as to say something to you?” His voice is practically one of a whisper. So meek that you didn’t know if you had heard him correctly the first time.
“Of course Aegon? You are my closest confidant.” Your words though, supposed to be ones of comfort, makes Aegons lips turn in a slight grimace. Yet still, he wets his lips before speaking.
“You… are everything any man I think could ever need in a wide. Which is why i am so disappointed in him. Why take that bastard into his bed, when he could have had you…” Aegon then cautiously leads his head forward and captures your open mouth with his own.
You cannot move. You cannot think. You cannot say anything to stop what is going on in that moment. There is only one thing that races specifically through your head however. One question that stands out from the rest.
Do you even want Aegon, your husbands brother, to stop?
In your confusion, you find yourself unable to move a muscle. Only it seems Aegon mistakes your lack of action and your confusion as a direct answer. Since his once shy hands move with a surprising confidence from your arm, to delicately cupping at your cheek and your head.
You cannot deny that the kiss did not leave a warm feeling erupting in your chest, and a fluttering sensation to churn in your heart. Yet there is one other thing you can think off while this is happening. You can only ponder on how strange it truly feels to kiss another man other than your husband. How strange it is to betray your marriage like he had done.
When Aegon finally breaks away from you, you can see that his eyes have grown dark with presumably desire. Yet unlike other men, he makes no move to direct you to the nearest bed like you would expect him to do. Instead, it looks as if his eyes have softened as they look into your own. A strange kind of peace drifting over him that you’d never really seen on him, nor even on another person before.
“Why did you do that…” You mutter, watching the way the flames make his skin look almost golden in the light.
His eyes though still hold that same strange look of softness, and his hand begin to stroke at your cheek with a strange type of fondness.
“Because I’ve been wanting to do it for quite some time now.”
It’s so simple. Spoken so calmly with a careless shrug, that it’s almost as if it was the easiest thing Aegons ever said in his life, and yet it causes an immediate feeling of panic and terror to erupt deep within your chest.
Your head moves your body in such a hurry that you had almost toppled over, if Aegon had not clutched at you so quickly to keep you steady. Yet at the feeling of his practically burning hands on your bare skin you push away from him.
Your head races with the discovery of Aegons… desires? Feelings even? Whatever they are, they’re something you never would’ve known about if not for Aemonds betrayal to his vows.
You know you should be angry at Aegon for what he has done. Angry at yourself even for not immediately pushing him off of you, a still married woman. And yet, when he kissed you, you felt more alive and happy then you’ve felt since Aemonds betrayal.
Even as you pace the room, Aegons keen eyes watch you with concern and slight anticipation at your next move. Like a dog always waiting for it’s masters command. He doesn’t move from the spot he originally sat in, only turning on his and trailing after your pacing with his eyes.
“I don’t know if I could ever love you-“
“You do not have to love me!” At the confession, Aegon is suddenly standing before you, your hands clasped tightly in his. Almost too tightly. As if he was grasping a delicate object he was too afraid would collapse and smash into a thousand pieces. The issue with that concern though, is that you’ve already been broken into thousands of tiny pieces and put back together again. In the end, there’s nothing left for him to break that’s not already been broken before. “All you need to do, my sweet princess, is let me in…”
This time, you do not break away so suddenly from Aegon when he kisses you again. Instead, you tightly grip at his warm fire like flesh in your fingers, and allow for his body to envelope you in senses you thought would never be awoken again.
That night, you felt the crash of everything you have ever been feeling, and everyone that’s made you feel that pain hit you all at once. That night, the hurting finally stopped for a time, and was replaced with only pleasure.
Aemond feels tired, exhausted, and drained, all in one. The words that he attempts to write to you blur all into one as his head swims with an ache that he has no idea whether is due to his deformity or due to his lack of sleep and self care. Either way, it’s in the way, and if Aemond could, he would rip it from his head so he could be done with it all.
He’s seen glimpses and heard plenty of tales of Aegon coming and going from your chambers. Seemingly, a strange bond has formed between the two of you, as before his time at Harrenhal, you’d never spoken to him. Yet now, he hears whispers of his brother leaving your presence and your chambers nearly every day.
Now he not only is jealous of his brothers soon to be crown. Now, he must bear witness and be forced to sit and wallow in his jealousy of Aegons access to your touch and your voice. Of Aegons access to his wife.
The letter in front of him, his unknown number attempt at reconciliation, is half written. The quill in his hand half poised to write as it drips dark raven ink onto the page and bleeds onto the dark oak desk.
Maybe he should write it with his own blood? Slice his palm and let it drip into a cup, before dipping his quill into it and writing his heartbreak with it. If he shows you how much he’s willing to bleed for you, maybe you’ll finally be willing to read his words and allow him to see you again…
There’s now a cramp in his hand from where he’s paused himself, and yet he strangely relishes in the onslaught of dull pain being given to him by his hand and head.
Maybe it’s a sign from the gods that he should stop himself? For he betrayed both the maiden and the mother when he laid with that fucking witch from Harrenhal, and it feels as if he should be praying nightly to the father for him to be brought to justice for you.
However now, with the considerable amount of time that he is being forced to spend away from you and your arms, he feels as though he should pray to the Stranger, late at night, when the moon is high and full. He should pray to him to slice his head from his shoulders and place him away from his misery forever more.
Though with his Targaryen heritage, there is no doubt that they have been waiting for an opportunity like this to pluck him and his family from their very roots for their many sins…
It has been a few months since you, ‘let Aegon in’, as he’d so put it. Though if you were to be honest with yourself, you’ve never felt as calm of character, as you were when you were with Aegon.
Still, you must admit, that whenever his head of short and unkempt silver hair is laid in your lap, facing away from you, your mind begins to wander of other things. You end up always thinking of his hair being twice as long, and his body being twice as lean.
You concluded that the gods must be punishing you for your sins. For practically abandoning your husband for a man of his own blood and partaking in pleasures of the flesh with him. But if this was how the gods had decided to punish you, how were they punishing Aemond…
“It is alright my love, we do not need to do it again until you are willing.” Aegon had said whilst stroking the bare skin of your arm with a distinguishable fondness.
You hadn’t the strength to tell him that the reason why you could not bring yourself to lay with him again is because the memory of Aemond still lives on in you forever. The ones that used to make you smile in fondness, but now make you wish to tear out his other eye with your bare hands and have his blood drip from your fingernails.
Aemonds memory that constantly lies within you is now a plague. A plague of constant mourning and sadness. A plague that is never ending and never relenting.
The memory of him still lives on months later, where for the first time ever, you leave your room dressed properly and looking like a true lady of the court. Aegon stands by your side in what you believe in his eyes is for your protection. But why would you need protection when your heart has been broken and stitched back together carelessly two times already?
Though as Aegons tries to murmur what your sure is meant to be encouraging murmurs of affection in your ear, your ears prick up to the sound of a familiar sound of footsteps, and you look up and connect eyes with your husband.
Your feet stop where they stand, and Aegons hands clench firmly against your own as he continues murmuring some kind of unknown gibberish in your ear. But you ignore him and look only at your husband. Who in turn, stares only at Aegons hands that are intwined in your own. You can see even from where you are standing, the way his brows furrow in annoyance at the sight, and somehow, you can feel your heart break for the third time in your lifetime as Aemond swiftly walks away without sparing you another glance.
You’re here. You’re walking close as can be with his brother and you’re standing in front of him looking at him with shocked doe like eyes.
The anger that blooms in his chest is nothing like the anger he felt when he killed Luke. It’s nothing similar to the anger he felt when he faced the injustice of his father when he was robbed of his eye. This is a new type of anger. It’s an obsession. A new type of injustice that only the feeling of blood on his skin could possibly have the power to diminish. But not your blood. Never your blood. No. Aemond craves Aegons blood on his blade.
He doesn’t even realise that he walked away from you until he looks around and realises he’s in his chambers, and his eye stares at the half written letter that still pathetically lays on his desk. An old pot of ink and a ruffled quill still waiting for him to pick up again.
His rage that still boils like a dragons fire within him feels no bounds as he tempts himself into ripping the letter. Into grabbing his dagger tucked away in his belt and stalking his way through the passages to Aegons chambers, where he’d wait till the sun goes down to strike him when he least expects it, and grin as Aegons chokes on his blood with fear and betrayal in his eyes. Watching with glee as Aegon dies for his crime. Trying to take what rightfully belongs to him.
But then, Aemond properly begins to think. You seemed to be close to be brother, if the closeness Aegon held you and the way he so closely whispered into your ears meant anything. If he killed his brother, it would only mean that he killed another one of the people you cared about. And Aemond refused to give you another reason for you to be scornful of him.
Aemond gives in though and rips the letter on the desk, and with a huff begins a new one. His anger and his frustration clear in his writing and with how many times the quill almost goes through the page with how fiercely and carelessly he uses it. He imagines your happiness though as he writes. The way you used to smile at him with such unique brightness. The way your cheeks would flush a beautiful light pink when he teased you. He even dared to think and reminisce on the way your face would shift into one of pure pleasure when he’d sit before the heaven that lay between your thighs, and lick and suck till he felt you spill no less than three times on his tongue.
The last thought soured though as he imaged Aegon seeing you like that. Seeing your smile, your happiness, your pleasure. The grip on his quill so strong he felt it snap between his fingers. A sharp shard of it bringing a small drop of blood to drop and pool on the page bellow. Yet Aemond didn’t choose to begin a new letter clear of his blood. He allowed it to stay there and continue with the same paper, so he could show his devotion to you. So he could show his willingness to bleed for you. Show how much he values his vow to shed as much blood as he needed to in order to achieve your forgiveness. It was truly an addictive thought, seeing you again. And one he could never stop running through his head when he thought of the future.
Aemond finished the letter, writing on the paper front and back with no less than three separate pages before he deemed his rant to be over. Blood pooling on various areas on all of them. His fingers now cramping around the new quill that he’d grabbed with each flex of his hand, and the ache that has sadly dulled around the cut to Aemonds relief remains pungent. If he could, he would pray to all Seven Gods for the wound to never heal. So you could see his devotion to you. To witness the death of his sanity in front of your very eyes.
There are no guards outside the front of your chambers. A fact Aemond cannot help but be disgusted by when he sees it as he walks to the familiar doors. Later that night he’ll find those two men tasked with the purpose of keeping you safe, and he’ll make sure to strip them of whatever dignity and honour they believed to possess. Perhaps the comfort of the wall would suit them nicely? Or the kiss of his blade?
Aemond raises his fist to knock at the door, but voices keep him from doing so. Specific voices. Yours and Aegons voices…
Before he knows it, Aemond is pushing himself against the wood as much as he can so he can hear every beautiful syllable of your voice. He does not care at first for the meanings behind them, but he certainly begins to when he realises what he is listening too are some very familiar high pitched sounds. Breathless sounds that Aemond had told you on yours and his wedding night that only he would hear.
While Aemond waits outside your door, he can hear your voices of pleasure radiating from the other side.
His fists are clenched no more to knock, but instead in anger. And the dulled throb of the small cut earlier on his hand flares up again as it reopened from his carelessness. Yet instead of moving to stem the blood, Aemond grows an idea deep from within him. Aemond snatches his dagger from his belt, and with no hesitation, quickly slices a deep mark on his inner palm.
His posture and frame is deathly still while the blood begins to heavily pool and drip onto the ground, only moving to place his hand firmly against the wooden door, watching it drip down the dark wood and trail to the stone flooring.
He can see the large puddle flow under your door, and Aemond wishes nothing more at that moment for you to see it. To see him. To see his devotion. His love. His sacrifice for you. If he hadn’t already lost it, Aemond would’ve torn out his eye and shoved it under the door too as a gift for you to make you stop your torturing of his soul.
Aemond only steps away when the blood pool reaches his shoes, and even then it’s with great resistance from himself as he stuffs the still bleeding wound against his dark coat that already begins to rapidly absorb the blood. He can even feel it soak his undershirt and his skin.
He goes straight to his chambers that night instead of paying a visit to the maesters. He does the same the next night, and the one after that.
Instead, Aemond relishes in the look he receives from Aegon the next morning. The look of utter horror and fear that speaks at least over a thousand words. The look that tells him you now finally know of his gift and his devotion to you. The look that tells him he is one step closer to you again.
Aemond Targaryen refuses to rest until he is drained entirely of his blood and it is pooled directly at your feet. He refuses to rest until his heart is laid bare in his hands and is presented to you like a septa presents the gods with their offerings. Until his name can be uttered from your precious lips without your own heart breaking from sorrow.
Aemond Targaryens heart could break a thousand times over, each time bloodier than the next, but he refuses to allow yours to break again. Not by his hand at least…
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen/reader#aemond#aemond one eye#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x reader#house of the dragon aemond#aemond x you#aemond targaryen request#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#prince aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen angst#the death of a life au
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Vic!! I have a request pretty pls hehehe,
Creepy dark! Aemond forcing his way with fem!reader as she sleeps after stalking him for many moons? PWEASEEE
what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.
pairing: soft but dark!aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader
warnings: explicit language. nsfw smut. slight breeding kink towards the end. consented abduction. aemond is (as usual) obsessive and possessive but is actually kinda a sweetheart in this.
notes: ok so small thing: i kinda put my own twist to this request, because this sort of idea has lived in my head RENT FREE since forevvaaa. hope u enjoy it :)
masterlist
Dragonstone was quiet when arrived, the sea tide calm and peaceful.
Aemond Targaryen could not remember the last time he stepped foot in the castle, if he ever did at all, having spent the entirety of his life behind the bronze doors of the Red Keep. He did not care for the damned island, nor did he hold any love for its people, but his twentieth nameday was fast approaching, and his mother was insisting more and more that he take a wife soon.
“Now, where will you be,” he mumbles to himself as he rips off his riding gloves and tucks them into his belt.
The castle hallways were without light, and no houseguards stood afoot. Aemond smirks. It would be much easier for him to find you, tucked away in your own chamber.
Your personal chamber was nicely furnished, in the colors and style of your shared noble house, and had an aura belonging only to a Targaryen princess. Thick wool carpets covered the floor instead of harsh black stone, and your windows were cracked open just a little, with pretty drapes swaying from the light ocean breeze. The walls were hung with different tapestries, all of horses and dragons, and the doors were flanked by Valyrian sphinxes.
And to the corner was your bed, where you, his niece, lay atop, fast asleep.
Aemond wills his heart to continue beating, and for his cock to behave.
He has not laid eyes on you in almost a full decade, ten years too long for him. Both your parents whisked you away to Dragonstone when you were still a child, soft-faced and in the mid of girlhood.
They refused his mother’s offer for a betrothal between the two of you, and broke his heart to the tiniest of pieces that he wondered if they were still scattered around the Keep. But that was so many moons ago, and time slipped by him.
“Gods be good,” Aemond whispers, moving closer.
What has happened to that little girl, that kid niece of his? In her place sleeps a living goddess, too lovely for mankind. You’ve grown beautiful, a mirror image to your mother, his eldest sister. He bends to kiss your bare shoulder- just a simple and tiny kiss- and you stir in your sleep. It is cute, he admits, but he also can not wait another second longer.
Only the gods above know how much he’s wanted you.
With a hard yank, Aemond draws back the bedsheet covers, causing you to jolt up from the bed. You look around, confused and scared and still half-asleep, purple eyes clouding from drowsiness. In front of you sits a stranger, a man- silver-haired and cloaked in black riding leather. Across his eye, an eyepatch.
Your heart quickens at the sight. “Aemond…?” you call out, unsure.
He smiles, teeth and all. “You do not know how happy it makes me to know you are still able to recognize me, my niece. After all, it has been awhile- ten years, has it not?”
You shrug, trying to wipe the sleep away from your eyes. “What…what are you doing here?” you ask, while patting down the bed, looking for the sheets to cover your chest. “Should you not be at King’s Landing? Why are you here?” Your eyes grow as wide as a dinner plate as you soon add, “Oh no, has something happened? Is it my grandfather?”
But Aemond scoots closer, bringing his face to yours. “Do not fret, nice. I’m here on my own wishes,” and he twirls a thin strand of silver hair around his finger, humming as he watches it fall back around your shoulder. In that sheer Dornish nightgown, you look good enough to eat, and the princeling is feeling beyond ravenous.
“I’m here to collect a debt.”
Lucerys…you think, a sinking feeling in your chest. His stolen eye, that night on Driftmark…
Ten years and Aemond still seeks revenge.
“No,” Aemond says, shaking his head. He moves even closer, grabbing at your shoulders. His palms are rough and callous. “I would dare not hurt you. Anyone but you. You…” he sighs, “-you were promised to me, back when we were children. You were meant to be my wife, and they stole you from me. The only good fucking thing in my life, and it was taken away…”
He studies you, his eye running across your face, down your neck and to your chest.
That Dornish nightgown clings loose to your body, and he can see your nipples perk against the fabric. It sends blood rushing between his thighs. “Tell me, niece, what did I do to deserve that?”
“Aemond…”
“No!” he hisses, tightening his grip on you. “No! You have not the slightest idea of the fucking torture I’ve endured these years. The nights I stayed up, begging to the gods that I might have you. I thought…maybe if they heard my pleas, saw my faith, they would…but no. Ten years, and not a single glimpse of you.” Your breath hitches when he meets your gaze, “I dreamt of you, every damned night. Fought the urges to fly over and collect you from here…”
You shake your head. “Aemond…” you say, softly. “I’m betrothed to another, this cannot be.” You press your hand against his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch, and kiss his forehead. “I have missed you greatly, uncle, but it has been years! So many years. I’m to be married soon.” You pull back, “It is best if you return home, and start finding a lady of your own choosing.”
Aemond sighs, and inside his chest, he feels his heart being ripped apart again.
“You are right, my dearest niece. My sincerest apologies for waking you up, it was quite wrong of me. I shall see myself out,” and he kisses your hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish you all the luck in your marriage, and may your husband love and appreciate you till the dying days of his damned life.”
You smile at him, though a bit sad now. “Thank you, uncle. To you as well.”
The princeling turns to leave, and you sit up watching as he makes his way to your door, before sinking back into your bed. “Goodbye, Aemond,” you call out, one final time before your eyes close, failing to see him pause and turn around to look at you.
What was he doing? Foolish man, he thinks. Foolish, stupid man!
Was it in his nature to admit defeat so easily, and to some unnamed wastrel cunt of a man? No. Throughout his life, Aemond suffered nothing but tremendous losses, while being denied the goodness and fairness that a child should’ve had. His lips pucker at the thought.
You were right there, close enough for him to finally claim.
And so he did.
“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Aemond tuts next to your ear, a heavy arm slung over your naked breasts as he holds you as close to his chest as possible. It feels as if he is frightened to let you go, worried you would disappear before his very eye, with another ten years slipping by until he finds you again.
His other hand lies between your trembling thighs, fingering you with such an intensity and speed that it leaves you utterly ruined and in tears. “Aemond…” you hiccup, nibbling at your bottom lip as he groans. “Fuck! You sound so good when you say my name like that. Gods be good, you are wet. Absolutely soaking my fingers. Doesn’t this feel good?” he asks, using his thumb to rub at your clit. “Yeah…it does, doesn’t it?”
You sniffle, fat tears streaking down both cheeks as you nod.
Oh, it feels good. So good, but so wrong as well.
You were to be married in less than a fortnight, to a highborn lord of House Stark, handsome and kind. How would you explain this to him? Or to your parents, who proposed the marriage between you two? How would you tell them that you were ruined? And it was your uncle’s fault.
“Please, Aemond…”
Aemond grabs at your jaw, cradling it in his hand before pulling it close to his face. “Shhh, it will be alright, my love. Do not fret. You will be okay, just give in,” he whispers, quickening his fingers as he fucks them into you, curling two to hit your sweet spot. You almost scream, so overcome with pleasure that it hurts. “This is where you are meant to be, darling, make no mistake in believing that. My bride, my love.”
My woman, he thinks gleefully, watching how your face scrunches up. Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth press together in a tight line, and it is the most beautiful sight.
My woman, made for me. Made for my love and protection and seed…
Goosebumps prickle along your arms as wet sounds echo across the chamber, followed by a strew of whimpers and moans. It sounds so dirty, so sinful and wrong that you pray to whichever god was listening in that no one would overhear such, especially your parents and siblings. Your father would have Aemond’s head, no doubt, and your older brother might rob him of his only other good eye.
“Oh, fuck…” you moan, flinging your head back, “-don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”
A minute or so later, your vision blackens, the room spins, and your jaw slacks as you cum plenty around his fingers, all with such a high-pitched shriek that Aemond slaps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. “What did I say? Stay quiet!” he hisses before chuckling, smearing the mess around your folds while you make an attempt to catch your breath. “Very good, my love. You did so well for me.”
He brings a finger to his mouth, to suck at the taste. “Your taste is heavenly,” he moans, swirling his tongue around it. He then brings two to your mouth, swiping at the tiny bit of drool pooling before stuffing them in. “Suck. Taste yourself now.”
“Dirty girl,” Aemond hums, a smirk curving on his lips as he watches the way you lick and suck at his fingers. “You are digging a grave too deep to escape, darling.”
Ruin me, you want to say. If I’m to die, I rather it be in your hands than anyone else’s…
He lays you back down on the bed next, making sure your head rests comfortably against the pillows. Ten years, Aemond reminds himself. Ten fucking years. He can feel his resolve slowly weakening by the second. You’re too beautiful, too soft and womanly and perfect for him. Every fantasy he dreamt up during boyhood never claim as close as to this. “I dreamt of this for fucking years,” he admits while kissing your pink and pouty lips. “All the possible ways to take you, to fuck this pretty cunt of yours.”
Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes his cock inside you. It is painful- undeniably painful- yet he swallows every cry and wince and moan that you give. Your fingernails dig into his skin from the terrible pain- the stretch and the sting and the weird feeling growing deep within your tummy.
“It is too much…!” you whimper against his lips. “Hurts!”
“Of course it hurts, darling, it is your first time. Every woman hurts when a man takes her first blood. But you can take it.”
“No,” you whine, trying to shove him away. “No, Aemond, it hurts too much-” But Aemond only kisses your temple, sweet and gentle and lovingly, while rocking his hips against yours. “It’ll feel so good soon, my love, trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, not my precious and sweet girl,” he coos, leaning to rub your noses together, “-my brave girl.”
Ten years.
He could not stop, even if he wished to. No, not now that he finally has you, underneath his body and wet and ripe for his seed.
“I’ll give you our child,” he mutters beside your lips as he pinches your nipple between two fingers and keeps his thrusts hard, deep, and fast. All of it makes your face twist in a soft gasp, your body tightening as you feel that thick rush of pleasure from before, right before you creamed over his fingers.
“Take my seed and have our child. I promise to take you back to King’s Landing and marry you," he vows through ragged breaths, "and spend the rest of our lives making up for those ten years.”
“Aemond,” you pant, clutching onto his shoulders and dragging his face down for a kiss. His skin is sweaty and flushed, and he has never appeared so beautiful before. You love him. You love him so much, how did you spend ten years without seeing him? It makes no sense. You understand his woes now, clear as day, and you want to rid of them forever.
“I love you! I love you, I love you, make me your wife, please. Please!”
He feels your cunt tightening around his cock, and he is ready to give you everything: his heart, his soul, and his seed.
Come the morning, his son will be swelling within your belly, and he will have you seated atop Vhagar, flying back to the Keep to make you his wife, in both the eyes of the gods and the laws of the land.
The next day, at dawning, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s only daughter does not join her family to break fast together. Her three half-brothers and two half-sisters raise eyebrows as they munch quietly on their meals but keep silent, all until little Joffrey asks where his older sister might be. Rhaenyra does not know, and neither do the houseguards, the men of the small council, and the maesters, and it worries her greatly.
Her husband, though, is quick to remind her that the princess- ever their trueborn child- enjoys morning rides on dragonback. “Give her a few hours and she will surely return with a new story to tell us,” Daemon says, while sipping on his wine.
But a few hours turn into the rest of the day, and soon evening creeps by.
A raven arrives from King’s Landing, bearing the family a note:
“I’ve taken what was owed to me. Such a pity you all forgot that what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.”
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader#aemond targaryen x you#dark aemond targaryen#aemond smut#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond the kinslayer#house of the dragon#house of the dragon imagine#hotd fanfic#request#vic writes 🧸
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Hiii
Daemon Targaryen x reader she’s leana twin and marry daemon. Leana dies and on the funeral everyone see that Rhaenyra children as bastards. Vaemond and daemon actually make an alliance to take driftmark from lucerys when the time comes and maybe marry on of daemon daughter to vaemond son. Rhaenyra try talk to daemon but he reject because he love his wife. And he also what’s the throne to himself because he have legitimate children
A/N: I hope you like it!
pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Valeryonwife!Reader
summary: She’s Leana twin and marry daemon. Leana dies and on the funeral everyone see that Rhaenyra children as bastards. Vaemond and daemon actually make an alliance to take Driftmark from Lucerys when the time comes and maybe marry on of daemon daughter to Vaemond son. Rhaenyra try talk to daemon but he reject because he love his wife. And he also what’s the throne to himself because he have legitimate children
Word count: 2,0K
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, mention of bastards, mentions of injuries and blood
Masterlist 1
Masterlist 2
Your whole body trembled as you slid down your dragon. Your dragon gave a loud roar in response to your despair. Your twin, your other half had passed trying to birth her third child and failing to do so leaving her to burn herself to death by her dragon Vaghar. Your wet eyes trailed to your husband a few feet away ordering his own dragon to leave for now. Your dragon followed after the red dragon without question, your dragon were very fond of each other feeling your and Daemon's feelings for one another.
"Mother" Your head turned to your eldest of five, Maelor, barely past his ten and third nameday.
"My darling" You ran a hand over his shoulder not wanting to embarrass him even though you ached to ran your fingers through his curly white hair that matched your own.
"Are you alright?" The sweet boy asked. You smiled lightly, it did not reach your ears as usual, and nodded your head. He was content with that and moved towards the rest of his siblings, ten namedays old Viserar, nine namedays Gaella, seven namedays Aerion and five namedays Rhaegal. Daemon moved to your side hair blowing against both the natural wind that one caused by your children's dragons flying away, even Rhaegal rode his dragon here despite his young age, you only agreed because there would over three chains holding him in place.
"Let us join the others" Daemon wrapped an arm around your waist. You nodded accepting following behind him to find the rest of your family on the other side of the palace. Your children followed you like ducklings.
Daemon's family watched you two, so close to one another, Daemon comforting you as you walked over to your family and your children so close to one another as well. You felt two burning gazes on you, Viserys the king and Rhaenyra the heir but ignored them both. You stood beside your mother silently holding her hand.
You opened your other arm for your niece who without question wrapped an arm around you. Sweet Rhaena whimpered in pain but held her emotions well in your arms. It was your uncle Vaemond who spoke in place of your father who was too hurt to speak which reminded you of your secret meeting a while back.
Flashback_
"What is the meaning of your visit?" Daemon was not shy to ask. You gave him a horrified look but he chose to ignore you. He sipped on the wine splayed on the chair by the dining table. You reached over to grasp his other hand in your own.
"I am here to make an alliance" Vaemond spoke. Your eyes squinted in suspicion. Daemon eyed you as well to see your reaction.
"What kind of alliance?" You asked voice strong and hard. Vaemond did not seem shocked at your change, you were no longer the young little girl who hid behind her mother's skirts. You were a woman grown, given the power to speak and voice her opinion, you were married to Daemon after all and it was no shock his influence on you made you stronger.
"One that will have your husband then your son on the throne, niece, one where the pure blood of Valeryon on the Driftmark throne" He spoked turning to glare at you. Your eyes sparkled with mischief at his words.
"How so?" Daemon asked intrigued. He placed his cup of wine on the table to give his full attention to Vaemon Valeryon who smirked in victory. He succeeded in grabbing the attention of the rogue prince.
"We need to prove Rhaenyra's infidelity, show that her boys are not only handsome but Strong" Vaemond smirked. He did not wish to voice his words so plainly. You chuckled at last name that left his lips. You turned to Daemon who was also smirking in amusement.
"Once that is proven her sons will be bastards int he eyes of the realm and no matter how much the king and my fool of a nephew claim them legitimate the people will not accept them and your sweet niece will be executed for adultery leaving you as the heir" Vaemond leaned closer to the both of you. His elbows rested on the table and looked like he was on the verge of falling of his chair when he was so close on the table.
"And driftmark?" Daemon asked leaning closer as well His grip tightened expectantly around your fingers. You also felt the blood rush to your head from excitement.
"Marry Princess Visera to my son Daeron, my heir and after I perish he will inherit the throne after me" Vaemond explained. You turned to look at Daemon, usually he was super protective over your girls but this was not a bad deal, this was a throne in the talking and also Daeron was not that much older than Visera only two or three namedays above her.
"Why should we accept? Why shouldn't we hand you over to King Viserys for treason?" Daemon asked leaning back against his chair. Vaemond looked at him with his mouth shut but his eyes twinkling with evilness.
End of Flashback_
You had missed the entire speech of Vaemond but from the reaction of Rhaenyra you knew he had spoke ill of her children. Her eyes wandered over to Daemon with a pleading look but he did not spare her a glance and focused on comforting you while they dropped whatever was left of your sister into the water.
"It will be alright, my love" Daemon whispered in your ear. You clutched Rhaena to you not letting her watch as her mother was put to rest int he sea. She buried her face in your bosom also not want to see and seeking the motherly touch from you.
"I know" You responded eyeing the heir across from you. In a matter of minutes everyone spread about leaving you to wander on your own in search of your husband who you had lost in the mess.
You walked further down the beach away from everyone else to the point that you could no longer see or hear them. You resumed walking hearing some hushed whispers not far away from where you stood. You found a rock and hid behind it peaking to see who it was and your eyes widened at the sight of Daemon and Rhaenyra with her hand on his bicep and a seductive sad look on her face.
"You do not understand uncle, they wish to hurt me and my sons" she whimpered. Daemon had his back to you so you could not see the scowl on his face or the way he shuddered in disgust. A burning fire of jealousy rose inside of you, you loved him and would be damned to let her sink her claws into him.
"What do you wish me to do?" Daemon asked turning to face her instead. She gulped looking up at him with innocent eyes.
"Take me to Dragonstone and marry me, I am sure your wife would not mind, it is normal for us Uncle, let us marry and shut their mouths" She reached a hand up to touch his face. Daemon grabbed her wrist harshly making her gasp and pushed her back.
"I love my wife and would never do such a thing to her" Daemon spat angrily. Rhaenyra looked like she was on the verge of crying.
"I need you uncle, I need your protection" She begged. He tried walking away but she held onto his arm like a child would do to it's mother's skirt.
"Why should I protect you or your Strong bastards?" Daemon asked pushing her hands away. Her eyes widened in shock and horror at his words. You chose that moment to appear and show them you were hear, from the look in your eyes Daemon knew that you heard more than you let on.
"Sweet husband our daughters seek your attention" You spoke sweetly. You gave a small sickeningly sweet smile making sure not to overdo it, your sister was just put to rest after all.
"I shall tend to my princess then" Daemon walked over to you and placed a kiss on your forehead before resuming to walk in the direction of the funeral. You turned to Rhaenyra letting your sweet face fall and a glare took over your face.
"Come near my husband again and I will cut your head off myself" You threatened. Her eyes widened in shock. She staggered a couple of steps back on the sand.
"Good evening, princess" You mocked before following after Daemon. Daemon did not leave your side for a second even when you put your children to bed.
"You heard her offer?" Daemon questioned letting a comb brush through your curls, it was laced with oils and creams to make it easier to brush through and to get rid of any tangles in the curls.
"Yes, she wanted to become my sister-wife" You smirked at him through the mirror. Daemon chuckled leaning closer to place a kiss on your neck.
"Yes, a disgusting idea" He joked. Your moment was interrupted by the sound of rapped and panicked knocking on the door.
"My prince! Your children-" Before the guard could finish the two of you were sprinting down the halls to the room you heard the most commotion from. Your body slammed against the door panting, your eyes widened at the sight of blood oozing from Maelor's temple and Visera's neck.
"Maelor! Visera" You ran over to them kneeling down to their height. Visera sobbed throwing herself into her father's arms once he was close enough. You placed your palms on Maelor's cheek swerving his head so you could see the damage.
"They attacked Aemond father, all of them" Visera sobbed into her father's side. Daemon crouched down beside you letting her face him. He placed a hand on her cheek pulling her closer to kiss the cut on her neck. She fisted his tunic on his shoulder trying to let out some of the anguish she felt.
"He called my sons bastards!" Rhaenyra shrieked from across the room. Your eyes finally trailed over to Aemond who was sat on a chair with his mother and maester by his side, the maester was stitching his now empty eye socket. You gasped in horror moving to stand on your feet.
"Is that reason enough for your sons to maim a prince! To hurt another and cut a princess?" Daemon yelled angrily. No one touched his children and went about unpunished even if he had to do it himself.
"They called them bastards!" She yelled back. Daemon took a threatening step closer to her but you placed a hand on his chest stopping him, you didn't want to have the blame moved form her to you and if he were to attack you would no longer be the victims.
"Tell me girl, what happened?" Viserys asked holding onto your daughter's shoulder to turn her to look at him.
"I was awoken by Maelor who had heard screams and we went down to see what had happened and found Jacaerys, Lucaerys, Baela and Rhaena all attacking Aemond, it was unfair and we tried to help him but prince Jacaerys had brought a knife, and he cut me-" She pointed at her neck wincing at the contact, it made you tremble with fury and both you and Daemon turned to glare at the brunette bastard.
"-Prince Jacaerys held Maelor back while prince Lucaerys maimed Prince Aemond and then threw him against a rock and there just was so much blood"She cried. She pulled away from her uncle and ran into her father's embrace again. You applauded your daughter's braver to speak the truth and so loudly.
"You hear brother, you grandsons hurt my children and maimed your own" Daemon hissed angrily. He let his hand run up and down Visera's back to calm her. You had a feeling that Viserys was still not going to punish Rhaenyra and her children but at least you turned on the fuse to the bomb, one that will hopefully end her and her bastard sons.
#daemon x oc#house of the dragon#daemon targaryen#daemon imagine#daemon fanfic#daemon fic#daemon fluff#daemon targeryan#daemon targeryen x reader#daemon x reader#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#hotd#hotd imagine#house velaryon#house of the dragon aemond#house of the dragon imagine#house targaryen#request#requests
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is there a part 2 to Strong maybe bit of smut
Strong pt.2
Aegon ii Targaryen x Strong!Reader
Previous chapter: Strong pt.1
Warnings: Targcest, Explicit language, NSFW content, Blood, Aegon beats up Aemond(not that bad, I swear)
Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!
English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.
Additional info: Instead of Rhaenyra escorting the Strong fellas back to Dragonstone, they all stay in the Red Keep(just imagine it for a sec that Alicent begged her ass off and got Rhaenyra to stay, cs she wants to spend more time w her(this is my fkn world and in it, these two make up idc)
A/N: Ooop, here it fkn issss!!! Ngl, I was cackling like a middleschooler while writing the spicy part of this one. Welp... Cheers, you horny bastards!!!
P.S. I fkn lied, this is nowhere near close to the req. Sorry, dear Anon.
A choked up sob came out of the Prince's mouth as he rubbed the linen washcloth over the bitemarks on his neck. Tears welled up in his eyes, but Aegon was quick to blink them away, before the woman could see.
She was sat across him, on the edge of the bed, watching him as Aegon dabbed away the blood. She was already dressed, in a long, bell-sleeved green gown that showed off every curve of hers. Aegon sneaked a glance at her deep neckline, then quickly averted his eyes.
The woman noticed it immediately, eyes never leaving his face. She ran a soft hand over her shoulder and pushed her long, dark hair out of the way, so it could trail down her back.
"Our mothers, along with your sister, Baela and Rhaena are in the gardens." She said, voice gone back to its usual cushiness. "They invited me to join them. I trust you will behave?"
The silver haired man flinched at her question. His hands dropped down to his lap, pulling at the washcloth as his eyes looked down at the dirty sheets.
Behave. Behave. Behave.
"Love?" Her eyes narrowed, word coming out rough and low.
Aegon flinched again. He looked up at her, head shaking up and down violently. She let out an amused hum, then got up on her feet.
"Good." She was now standing next to him, one hand reaching up to his face. She took in the angry bruise she'd awarded him with the night before. Then the faint imprints of her hand that covered his face, neck and chest. The rest staying hidden from her eyes by the sheet Aegon had covered his lower half with. "You're so good."
Aegon whined, the pathetic sound reverberating in his head. Before he had time to curse himself out for it, her fingers hooked under his chin. He turned to face her, hands clutching and pulling at the washcloth.
"My brothers are with Aemond and Ser Criston, in the training grounds." She said, thumb running over his bottom lip. "You'll join them."
It wasn't a question, but an order. One he wasn't brave enough to not follow. Not after the things his sweet,sweet wife had done to him throughout the previous night.
"That's it." The woman laughed out as she bent forward, lips meeting with those of Aegon. "I must go, my love. Get ready, then head down. You'll find clothes on the chair over there."
His pale eyes shot open, following to where her hand was pointing at. He nodded once more, head falling down after. The Prince put the washcloth on the nightstand as he got up.
Although he was a few good inches taller than her, Aegon felt incredibly small. Weak. Worthless. Undeserving.
He hissed as her hands wrapped around his wrists, successfully getting her to pull away. For a bit. Then she grabbed him again, this time much more gently, and brought them up so she could take a closer look.
The porcelain skin was now red and swollen. The ropes had left behind thin, angry traces where they'd cut in, marring the blank canvas Aegon was.
"I am sorry, my dragon." She whispered as she peppered his inner wrists with soft, apologetic kisses.
"It's fine." The Prince finally spoke out, his voice hoarse and trembling. He was smiling down at her, trying to bite back another hiss. "I...enjoyed it."
The brunette looked up at him, plump lips meeting with the red skin for the last time before she let go. Her arms wrapped around his neck, body pressing close to his.
Aegon rubbed his bruised cheek against hers, melting in her hands.
"My dragon..." She trailed off, pulling him impossibly close to herself. "I love you."
Aegon whined again, the tears now falling freely from his eyes. His hands reached for her hips, nails digging into the green silk of the gown that covered them.
"Say it again..." He was falling apart, body shaking with the intensity of the sobs that left his mouth. "Please."
The woman kept quiet. The fingers that were rubbing small circles on the back of his head, stopped moving.
"Please." Aegon needed to hear it. Especially after the cruel words she'd punished him with the night before. "Tell me you love me. Please."
Love me. Love me. Love me.
But she didn't say it. Instead, she unwrapped her arms from around him. The Prince almost fell to his knees at the loss of contact.
"Get dressed." She turned around, walking towards the doors of their chambers.
Aegon became painfully aware of the pitiful state he was in- naked, crying and begging, covered in endless amount of bruises, scratches and marks. He tried to put himself back together, to wipe the broken expression off his face. But there was no point.
In just a few hours, she'd completely destroyed whatever it was, that was left of the Prince. He had no ground to stand on. Not anymore. He could yell in her face, break her to pieces, even kill her. But she'd die, knowing she won. Knowing that she'd broken him in, taken him down to being this sad, miserable excuse of a person.
"I love you." Her voice reached Aegon's ears. "I truly do."
Then she was gone.
────────────
"What happened to you?" Aemond asked as his brother approached him. He lowered his sword, signaling to Criston he'd take a break.
The knight offered a small nod, then turned his attention to the younger boys who were standing off to the side.
"Got into some trouble last night?" The one-eyed prince teased.
Aegon's head shot up, eyes staring up at his younger brother in shock. How did he find out, he heard his trembling voice inside his head. His legs almost gave out at the thought of Aemond knowing what she'd done to him. His brother already looked down on him, what must he be thinking now, that he knew his big brother was used like a whore.
"Told you that you shouldn't be going out into the city alone..." Prince Aemond said, hand reaching for Aegon's shoulder.
Aegon bit down a groan as his brother's hand came down on one of the bitemarks. He shook his head, his usual smug grin coming back on his face to cover the pain.
"It was nothing, don't worry about it." A relieved breath escaped through Aegon's words. Fortunately, Aemond didn't notice it.
The long-haired man lowered his hand, eyeing Aegon up and down suspiciously. There was nothing out of the ordinary. His brother looked a bit tired, a bit disheveled. Nothing he hadn't seen before.
He looked away for a second, then his eye came back to Aegon.
"What in the Seven Hells are you wearing?"
Aegon was sporting a high-collared black doublet, black pants and leather boots. That's not what shocked Aemond. It was the red shirt that showed underneath the doublet. The red cord it was embroidered with. The three-headed dragon pin on his chest.
Then his eye trained on Aegon's hands. The ridiculously large gold ring was resting on his little finger of his right hand. On his left thumb, however, was a simple steel band ring. One that had the sigil of House Strong on it.
Aegon turned red as he noticed the way his brother was inspecting him.
"Leave it be." He whispered, eyes going back to their nephews, who were now swinging at Ser Criston. "It doesn't concern you."
Aemond wrapped one gand around the back of Aegon's neck, eliciting a pained growl from his brother.
"You didn't get that nasty bruise out in the streets, did you?" Aemond teased, eye darting to his brother now and then. "No shame, brother. I honestly expected for your Strong lady to put you in your place way sooner."
Aegon didn't dare say a word. He stood there, allowing his baby brother to make his cruel joke.
"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond..." Criston's voice rang out. "Would you join us? We have to even the odds."
Aemond turned nodded, then took a step forward. He turned suddenly, spinning on one heel.
"Would anyone blame me if that little bastard lost an eye whilst sparring?" He said with that smirk of his. "Do you think your Strong lady will come after me, do to me what she did to you?"
And there it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. Aegon's back.
He lunged at his brother, knocking him to the ground. With his newfound strength, it only took a few blows to the face for Aemond to pass out, his head bouncing up and down with every hit.
Ser Criston, Luke and Jace reached them in no time. They tried to pull Aegon off, but the Prince simply refused to let go. The rage had blinded him, all he could see was his brother's bloodied face.
But it wasn't the cruel jokes. Nor was it Aemond threatening to take their nephew's eye out. It was him, suggesting that the Princess would put her hands on Aemond the way she'd done to Aegon.
That was for him. The pain, the humiliation,the punishment. All his. No one else's. His alone.
"Aegon!"
And just like that, Prince Aegon let go. He allowed for Criston to pull him to his feet and away from Aemond.
All his. No one else's. His alone.
He shook off Cole's hands, then turned to stare at her. Waiting. For her to storm over to him, and show everyone where his place was. To show to his mother, his sisters, his cousins, his nephews.
But nothing came. She stood there, at the top of the steps, staring down at him. One hand extended out towards Aegon. Drawing him, guiding him.
He didn't notice how Alicent ran past him, nor did he see how she dropped to her knees, next to Aemond's unconscious body. He didn't notice the scared and confused looks on his nephews faces or the way his half-sister, Rhaenyra, looked from her daughter to him with a smug grin.
All he could see was her.
Aegon followed the woman into the Red Keep and up the steps, towards their chambers.
────────────
"Why?" She asked, flopping down on the bed.
He didn't respond. Aegon was too busy trying to undo the clasps of his doublet to notice she'd said something.
"Come here..." She murmured, hand reaching out for him just like it had out there.
He heard her this time. Without wasting any time he strode over, only stopping when he had to look down to get a good look of her face.
They stood there like that for a bit, neither saying a word.
Then she spread her legs slowly, making room for him.
"Closer, I can't reach you."
The Prince took another step forward, now standing between her legs.
"I asked you a question." She said softly, fingers quickly undoing the clasps, then the buttons of his shirt. "Why did you do it?"
"He threatened to take your brother's eye out."
"I don't like it when you lie to me, Aegon." Her whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. There was no gentleness to her anymore. She tugged at the strings of his breeches, untying them with one swift move. "So why? I want the truth."
Aegon Targaryen had never shied away from a woman's touch the way he did when his wife's fingers ran down his happy trail. He sucked in a breath.
"He..." The Prince turned to look out the opened windows.
"What did he do?" She looked up at him, two fingers hooking at the front of his pants and tugging down.
"He asked if you'd do what you did to me, if he were to take his eye out." Aegon admitted, shaking his clothes of his body.
"And that made you knock Aemond out cold because..." The woman almost laughed at her own words. Aegon got him good, she couldn't deny it.
She watched as his breeches fell to the ground, freeing Aegon from the tight grasp they had on him. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched him, his already hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen.
Aegon looked away again, too ashamed of how much effect she had on him.
Two hungry eyes were staring down at the head of his cock, deep shade of pink and already leaking.
"Because...?" She teased, hand wrapping around him.
Aegon let out a deep moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His pale face was turning red, making the purple bruise on his cheek stand out even more.
He hissed as she dragged her hand up and down the length of his cock at a painfully slow pace. The soreness of the night before still lingered, making every inch of his body scream in agony. Still, he found himself coming to love the feeling. The pain. The humiliation. The punishment.
"Because I don't want you to touch anyone else the..." His breath hitched as the brunette bent down a bit and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.
She felt him twitch slightly, making her let out an amused huff. A shiver ran down Aegon's back when he felt her warm breath hit him. His hand came to rest at the back of her head, gently massaging the skin underneath his fingers.
The sensation of her wet tongue dissappeared once she reached the tip, leaving the man to thrust his hips into the air. Then her full lips wrapped around the head, her tongue circling around it. She let out a low hum, the sound reverberating throughout his whole body.
"I don't want you to do what you did to me last night to anyone else!" He cried out, almost toppling over at the feeling of her tongue rubbing over the slit of his cock. "Just me..."
Her lips left him with a loud pop, the woman laughing softly at it. She wiped away the mixture of precum and saliva from her lips as she looked up at him.
"Just you, my dragon." She said as her hands wrapped around his wrists gently, guiding them towards her shoulders. "Help me get it off."
Aegon looked at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. His confusion didn't prevent him from sliding down the garment past her shoulders.
"You're not angry at me?" He asked.
"Quite the opposite..." The brunette said as she got up, leaving barely any space between their faces. "I'm proud of you, my brave dragon."
Another whine escaped Aegon as he slid his hands down her body, ridding her of her green gown. He pulled her close, their chest pressing against together.
He hid his face in the crook of her neck, planting wet, needy kisses on the skin there. Aegon lifted her up, the woman wrapping her legs around his waist quickly. He climbed on the bed while still holding her.
"I'm so sorry..." He said as he pulled away to look at her. "About yesterday. I didn't mean it, I just wanted to get a reaction from..."
She cut him short, pushing him off of her and then climbing on top of Aegon. On hand reached up to cover his mouth, the other going to his throat.
"I know." The Princess said, grinding down on him.
Aegon moaned from behind her hand, thrusting up. The grip she had on his throat got stronger. He stilled, his breathing did too.
The hand on his face turned, until her thumb was pressing down on his lips. He opened his mouth, tongue swirling around the single digit, cheeks hollowing as he sucked in.
"So good..." She whispered, her other hand sliding down his body and dissappearing between them. "So fucking good. For me."
Aegon's eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, head shaking up and down with a choked moan.
"So brave..." The woman raised up slightly as she guided his cock to her, rubbing it over her slick cunt. "My brave dragon."
He bit down on her thumb as the tip of his cock entered her. The woman hissed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she hooked her other fingers under his chin, then shook slowly.
"Try not to bite it off or I'll have to return the favor." She joked, eyes darting from him to where their bodies met.
Both let out a chuckle, the sound soon getting replaced by Aegon's whines.
"Move." He unwrapped his lips from around her thumb, teeth still holding it in place. "Please."
"As my Prince commands..." Her breath hitched as she slammed down on him.
Her free hand trailed back up and then down again, nails digging in. Soon his porcelain skin turned to an angry shade of red, blood prickling.
Aegon couldn't hold back anymore. His hips snapped up, meeting with hers. Her palm collided with his face. He bit down on the digit in his mouth again with another hard thrust.
Another slap. His cheek was staring to sting. Then he did it again.
"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" She hissed out as she bounced up and down.
Aegon hummed, tongue rubbing against the pad of her thumb.
She pulled her hand away from his face, his teeth dragging over.
"I want to hear you." She said as she dropped down to his chest, legs giving out. "Say it."
Aegon mumbled a few incoherent sentences before wrapping his arms around her waist tight. He set up a painfully fast speed, skin hitting skin as he chased his own high.
Her mind went blank at the first thrust, hands pushing up as she tried to pull away from his grasp. She almost slipped away, but Aegon was quick to follow her. His head dipped down, lips wrapping around one of her nipples. He bit down and then sucked in, just as she'd done to him the night before.
A hiss came from the woman. One of her hands sneaked over his shoulder, then pulled his head back by his hair.
A thin string of saliva trailed from his mouth and down to her bruised nipple. He offered a toothy, devilish grin before licking his lips clean.
"I'm close." She stuttered, eyes shutting tight.
Aegon laughed out as his bruised cheek came to rest on her chest, his eyes closing. He kept the same pace, the sweet aching in his hips coming once more.
"Princess, the feast..." The doors flew open, one of her maids barging in. "Oh, Gods!"
The girl left just as quickly, blush creeping up on her face.
"Don't stop!" She moaned out as Aegon's thrust stuttered. "Don't!"
He laughed again, hips snapping. Then he stopped completely.
"It would seem I still don't know my place, wife." He craned his neck up as his mouth left behind a hot, blazing trail from her collarbones to her jaw.
"You'll learn..." The woman looked down at him, hand going back to wrap around his throat. "...husband."
#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#strong!reader#hotd fanfic#hotd#game of thrones#dance of dragons#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#accepting requests#rhaenyra targaryen#aegon the second#requests open#not safe fw#i laughed harder than i should have#sorry but I can't take this seriously#aegon targaryen x reader
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❤🔥The Burning Hearts of Twin Dragons🔥 ❤
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Twin Sister!OC.
A/N: I went back and forth about whether to make them twins or not but, decided fuck it they're going to be twins. I am also so sorry for the 1+ year delay.
Description:
Twins were not a rare occurrence under House Targaryen.
As it stood there were three sets under the Great House.
Lady Baela & Lady Rhaena of Prince Daemon & Lady Laena.
Prince Jaehaerys & Princess Jaehaera of Prince Aegon II & Princess Helaena.
Prince Aemond and Princess Aemma of King Viserys and Queen Alicent.
Unnaturally close from birth, the dragon twins had only ever seen one another as each other's other half, one soul dwelling in two bodies, one never to be seen without the other close by; the hot-tempered and unforgiving Prince harboring a feral possessiveness over his kind-hearted and mischievous twin sister that only seemed to grow with age. A feral possessiveness that the young Princess reveled in and used to her advantage much to the horror of their mother which would ultimately lead to their separation.
The existence of the youngest daughter of King Viserys would soon fade to the back of the people's minds. Like his youngest son, Prince Daeron, who had been sent to be with the Queen’s side of the family in Oldtown under Lord Ormund Hightower; the King's youngest daughter would be sent to live with his eldest daughter, the Princess Rhaenyra on Dragonstone at 12.
Many would forget her but not Aemond. Over several years, Aemond’s pleas for his twin sister's return would fall on deaf ears; many a fight had over the matter and many a time the young Prince turned away from Dragonstone in his attempts to bring her back and when the war eventually broke, the young Princess remained on Dragonstone.
Prince Aemond Targaryen would fight the war for the Iron Throne not out of a sense of duty or commitment to his King-brother and their family but for the return of his beloved twin sister to his side - the kinslayer more than willing to burn all of House Targaryen down to get her back.
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Apart of: Send me a title and I'll come up with a description to match it.
[closed]
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.
#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond x reader#hotd fanfic#idk if this was actually meant for aemond lol#it wasn’t specified#sorry if it wasn’t lol#inbox 💌#request#witch-of-letters
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Could you do the reader being insecure after giving birth (it’s been a few months) and Aemond reassures her before they have sex
thank you for the request, this is such a sweet idea 💛
definitely know Aemond would be the patient and tender type. He won’t rush you but he’ll notice that you haven’t been yourself around him like you used to, and that concerns him. When he gets the truth out of you, he’s hurt but he wants to make sure you know that he doesn’t think any less of you.
hope this is okay x
Divine Beauty
PAIRING: Dad!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader
WORDS: 1,519.
WARNINGS: mentions of childbirth, pregnancy + side effects, body insecurity, body shaming, swearing, fluff.
Childbirth was proof of miracles, an honourable right for most women, and one that you could proudly say you accomplished. It was not easy, to say the least. The labour was long, the pain unbearable and yet all the torment vanquished when you heard the first cries of your newborn daughter, cradling her tiny self in your arms provided a soothing warmth like no other.
And yet, nothing could neither amount to the sentimental sight of your beloved husband meeting and holding his newborn daughter. How tiny and nestled she looked, asleep in his strong arms. Your intuition convinced you, that your little one knew her father's touch instantly, and was comforted of how well protected she would be by his side. An understatement, Aemond was obsessed with her, refusing to let anyone else besides yourself and his mother, Queen Alicent, to hold the child.
From the exact moment he knew of your pregnancy, you could recall it as though it only happened yesterday, he was eagerly committed to the idea of fatherhood. If he was nervous, he showed no ill signs nor flaws, he was determined to be a great father, unlike his own, having only known neglect. Nonetheless, Aemond took measures to ensure your pregnancy was smooth and healthy, regardless of the symptoms, he wanted to minimise the risks as much as he possibly could. He saw to it, that you had your own reliable maester at hand, if necessary, he ensured that you were well rested, and that your maids attended to your every needs, at times he often would attend them himself. He especially grew a love to bathing you himself, watching overtime how your belly swelled with his child, and being so gentle with your changing body. And during this crucial time, you knew it was inevitable that your body would change, motherhood was an honour and you would do it again, however, it did not stop the self-loathing.
Terrible thoughts ruptured your mind, as you took long-hard stares at your bare reflection in the mirror. Examining every inch and crevice of your naked body, certain parts of your lower abdomen and back, now covered in faint pink stripes, the prominent dimples embedded in the skin of your thighs. Where your belly once protruded where the babe had grown, now deflated yet sagged just over your waist line. Now that you were lactating, your breasts had enlarged and felt grossly swollen, you'd never felt so 'big'. You felt ashamed that three months had passed and yet you remained this way.
During your pregnancy, Aemond ensured that you maintained a well-rounded appetite. The maester often reminded you both that you were with child, and it was quite normal to eat a larger quantity than what you were used to prior, since your cravings and appetite were upturned. Aemond was certain for you to remain well-nourished, for the maester often alarmed Aemond with discussions of risks of illnesses and deficits if the mother were to expose herself to malnourishment, for both you and the babe. Aemond wouldn't bear the thought, if he could prevent it, he would see to it himself.
Nonetheless, you felt that his good intentions and harmless actions came back for a nasty bite.
You had been avoiding Aemond's touch and longing stares, refusing to get undressed or naked in his presence, out of "modesty." He found it amusing, how you would shriek away from him, vexing him that you had only just given birth to his babe, let alone have another one anytime soon. He had acknowledged that you were still sensitive and in the process of healing from the gruelling birth. He did not wish to force himself onto you until you were capable of taking him again. The maester recommended at least a month, for you to regain your strength, before trying to conceive. You found yourself, sneaking in baths when he was out training or running errands for the day, and often were in bed before he'd return. He did not think much of it until now. He noticed how little you ate, and how you would layer your clothes even on sweltering, hot summer's day. And the whole ordeal of you not allowing him to touch your body, started to concern him.
It seemed enough was enough, for the one-eyed Prince, for he had returned much earlier than anticipated, as he cancelled his training practice that evening, only to 'ambush' you in the confines of your shared chambers.
"You've been avoiding me, ābrazȳrys [wife]," He exclaimed in a stern tone. He'd just managed to catch you perfectly, moments before you were to undress for a bath the maids had just prepared for you.
"Aemond-"
"Do not toy with me Y/N. I see the way my touch makes you feel, like I frighten you now... Do I?" You could sense the tinge of guilt in his soft voice. He takes slow steps towards you, only to stop himself hesitantly, maintaining a small distance, as though not to scare you away.
You couldn't help but sigh, you'd been so caught up in your own scrambled thoughts that you hadn't realised the effect it was having on Aemond. A half-hearted smile appearing on your face, as you closed the distance with your husband, reaching for his rough hand as you held it tightly in yours.
"Of course not, Aemond. You could never frighten me away. I love you so very much, it-it's just-"
The words struggling to leave your lips, as Aemond watched you carefully, his eye lingering over your mouth as he desperately awaited for your response. He gently squeezes your hand, as encouragement before you shamefully pull away from him, releasing his grip on you.
"I-I'm not the same as I was before, Aemond. I need you to know this. I don't think I can ever be, I mean my body. It's-It's...
"Horrendous."
As you left his side, to seat yourself down over the edge of the bed, you noticed the sting in Aemond's face, as he winced when you said the word. Horrendous. Instinctively, your hands touching your cheeks cautiously as you felt flustered and ashamed, hot tears treacle down before hastily wiping them away. You couldn't even find the courage to look Aemond in the eye, for his reaction would be to unbearable once the realisation hits him of how awful you look now.
Although, your husband wasted no second more, kneeling down below you, as he gently pulls your hands away from your face, his thumb stroking the tear trails remnant behind.
"Y/N, issa jorrāelagon [my love]," He softly whispers, the hurt in his voice evidence, as he looks up at you worryingly.
"Look at me-" He urged you, his tone now deep and commanding, his hand lightly nudging your face forward, as your eyes finally meet.
"You can never think of me to be so vile. I would never nor could I ever think of you in such an ill manner. You have given me the greatest gift a man could ask for. Do you think of me so little?"
His thumb had been stroking your cheeks dry, the seriousness in his face disappearing, as he glimpses a small, relieved smile on your face.
"I-I just hate the way I look now, and I would hate to bring shame to you with how others might think of me-"
A defeated sigh, escapes Aemond's lips, as his long fingers begin to comb through your hair. One hand leaving your face, to hold your shaky grip.
"I need you to listen when I tell you this. I do not give a fuck about anyone else may even dare to think. Only you and the little angel you have given me, that's all that matters. I refuse to let you think I could ever belittle you like that, you are my wife... Issa vys [my world]."
Almost on cue, your little daughter begins to cry in her crib, and just as your maternal instinct had kicked in to race to her side, Aemond denies you the chance.
"Y/N, I need you to understand me on this."
You give Aemond a slow, reassuring nod, squeezing his hands once more, as he plants a soft, moist kiss on your forehead. Your daughter's cries growing louder in the background, Aemond urges you to continue with your bath, as he attends to the unsettled newborn babe in her little crib.
Ever so carefully lifting her up in his arms, the moment she's comfortably nestled in, the cries begin to subside to small, little coos.
"Looks like she just needed her father's magic touch," You chuckle, as you begin to undress yourself slowly. Aemond kept his focus on you, as he made himself comfortable in a chair he pulled for himself, positioning it by the bathtub.
His eyes lingered over your body, and yet not a sight of disgust on his face. Each layer you removed, you felt your confidence grow.
"Hmm-" He lowly growls, an intense lust prominent in his eye.
"Issa gevie ābrazȳrys [My beautiful wife], divine beauty."
#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen fanfic requests#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen imagine requests#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd imagine#hotd fanfic
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So this is a rquest. Aemond and his niece got bethroted but shes not happy about it. So, to tease him in hopes of him putting an end to their bethrotal, she starts flirting with every lord, guard or men that she finds attractive on the Red Keep. But, one night, she takes things to another level and sneaks out to a party at Flea Bottom and hes the one who finds her dancing on top of a table and, even if its a sight to be seen(thats what the men watching her with hungry eyes think too), he finally snaps and drags her out of there into a private place where some dubcon smutty action happens ;). With him telling her "if you want to act like a whore, ill treat you like a whore".
A/N: Oooooh, juicy. Thanks for the request!!! I honestly love the idea of giving Aemond a run for his money haha. I love seeing a man become feral. I hope you enjoy hehe.
Unsought Betrothal
TW: Dark!Aemond, 18+, Noncon, Dubcon, Aemond being a cunt, forced marriage.
Words: 6k
Pairings: Aemond X Reader, Cregan Stark X Reader
Your betrothal to the One-Eyed Prince was a shock you.
Alicent had insisted that you marry your uncle in order to strengthen the bonds of your divided house, and your mother Rhaenyra was all too eager to agree. Despite the relationship of the two women having soured over the years, and efforts to rekindle it beginning, you could not say the same for Aemond.
As a child, Aemond had been quiet, dutiful and albeit awkward, kind. Not quite fitting in, and baring the brunt of your brothers and other uncles bullying. Yet, underneath his quiet demeanour, was a simmering rage and vicious jealousy.
Lords and Ladies from all over the realm had come to join you this evening in the Red Keep to celebrate the engagement of the Velaryon Princess to the Targaryen Prince. The Hall was lined with tables and chairs, food piled high on gold and silver plates and goblets of wine and mead held in every persons hands. Music played loudly, and the overall mood of the room was happiness.
Except for you.
You sat at the table, watching the Court converse with each other, laughing loudly, and others dancing in the middle of the room as music played from the corner. All wore their finest gowns and silks, necks and fingers dripping with gold and jewels.
Aemond sat beside you stiffly, having not tried to converse with you as he simply observed the room of guests, goblet in his hand with a spiced wine from Dorne within.
You sipped heavily from your goblet as you watched the celebrations, wishing for them to end so that you may disappear into your chambers, and enjoy the last few moments of solitude that you may have before you are wed to the Prince.
How terribly dull.
You had begged your mother to not allow this to go forward, to not accept the betrothal, but she refused. It was a way to prevent a war, she had told you, and that she had not been allowed to marry who she had wanted to either.
And so you bit your tongue, and did what your mother bid you to do.
Sighing loudly, you pulled the goblet up to your lips, drinking the rest of the spiced wine quickly, feeling it leave a warm path down your throat as you swallowed. It settled in your stomach, and the buzz from drinking that evening began to rise.
You turned your head to look at your uncle, “Are you going to ask me to dance?”
Only the slightest, most imperceptible movement of his head, allowed you to know that he had heard you. You stared at the profile of his face, his sharp nose and face accentuated by the candle lit room.
“Hm.”
The least he could do was dance with you, to pretend that he wanted you. To pretend that he cared for your happiness. You both had gotten along when you were younger, but when Lucerys took his eye, he had become most bitter and spiteful, always looking at ways to take it out on you.
Aemond would openly call you a bastard, trip you over and sneer at you. He would make comments about your hair, and dresses, your brothers and your father.
He made your life hell.
Standing abruptly you slammed the cup onto the table and shoved your chair backwards, before walking down into the space where everyone was dancing, leaving your betrothed to sit at the table with your family in silence.
Bodies weaved around each other and smiles lit up the room. The Lords and Ladies parted like the sea, to allow you to dance with them all, their hands coming up to their partners before spinning back around.
As they made room for you, you were stood in front of Lord Cregan Stark.
Cregan was who you had hoped to be wed to, in fact who you had begged your mother to wed you to. You had heard nothing but praise about the man; of his bravery, of his loyalty, and of course his handsome looks. He had dark brown hair, almost black atop his head, it was lightly curled and sat just below his ears.
He wore all black that evening, and the way his clothes fit his body made you want him all the more. As you looked at him he smiled, teeth showing as he bowed before offering you a hand.
“Congratulations on your betrothal, Princess.” He spoke to you above the sounds of the music and people around you, as you held onto his hand and danced.
“Thank you, My Lord. You are too kind.” You blushed, as his hand came to hold at your shoulder. So respectfully.
“You have travelled far for such an occasion.” You noted.
“Of course, Princess. Who wouldn’t want to see such an event. And meet the famed Rose of the Red Keep.” You felt his hand come to the middle of your back, as you moved.
The wine coursed through your veins as you spun again, feeling a burning sensation on your skin. As you looked up, you saw Aemond watching you and Cregan dancing, one eye narrowed and his lips pursed into a hard line.
Perhaps you didn’t have to go through this marriage after all…
“I had hoped this would have been for us.” You purred, voice low so that only he could hear.
Cregan almost paused as he looked at you, dark brown eyes searching your face.
“You mock me, Princess.”
“I assure you, I don’t. I had asked my mother to betroth me to you. Though, she thought my uncle would be more advantageous. It is… tradition.”
The Stark did not answer you, instead his hand moved further down your black dress, settling on your lower back as you moved. You pulled apart from him, glancing up to see if Aemond was still watching.
He was.
“Would you mind accompanying me to get a drink, My Lord? I find that my feet are beginning to become tired, and I am thirsty for more wine.”
Lord Cregan bowed his head in acknowledgement, and led you through the crowd to the tables on the side. Picking up a goblet, you poured yourself a full cup, turning to face the dark haired man before thrusting the cup out to him to sip from first.
His large hand brushed over yours and you felt heat pull through you. He pulled the cup to his lips and sipped, before talking.
“If I had known about your intentions for me, I would have rode here sooner.”
His voice was as smooth as butter, and you felt yourself drawn to him.
You felt that watchful eye on you still, burning into the side of your face.
“Or maybe I will have to ride back to Winterfell with you.” You stepped away from the table and closer to Cregan, pulling the cup form his hand, sipping the wine heavily as you slipped up to whisper in his ear.
“I heard that Starks never break an oath.” You let your lips graze his ear, and you felt the man pull in a breath, deep into his chest.
“We don’t.”
“That is… impressive.” You purr leaning back to look at him again, “So if we were to marry, and to speak our vows, you would honour them?”
“Would you?”
“One flesh,” You placed a hand on his chest above his heart, “One heart, one soul, now and forever.” You smiled at him.
As you moved to lean closer to him, to invite him to follow you, to ensure people would witness you leave with him, to embarrass Aemond so that Alicent would annul the betrothal, you heard your name.
Both you and Cregan turned your head to see Aemond himself, standing beside you, eye glaring at your hand upon the Stark mans chest. Cregan took a step back, nodding his head at your betrothed.
“My Prince.”
Aemond did not even spare the Lord a glance, nor even an amused, aggravated or bored hum like he usually did. He simply stared at you, and where your hand now hung limply by your side.
“Come.” Aemond challenged you.
“Why?” You snipped back, turning to look at Cregan who stood where he was, looking all the more uncomfortable.
“You wished to dance.”
“Not anymore. I am tired.”
“Then I will accompany you to your chambers.”
“No thank you. I can walk myself.”
Aemond then turned his attention to the man who still stood beside you both, watching the stiff interaction.
“Do you have intentions to bed my betrothed?” Aemond questioned, as though he was asking about the weather. Tone all too uninterested, but lone eye bright with that quiet simmering rage.
“No, My Lord. We were merely talking.”
“Hm. Excuse us, we have much to talk about.”
Aemond wasn’t asking.
Cregan nodded at your uncle before back at you, “Of course.” Before he turned back away and into the sea of people celebrating behind you. You watched, eyes wide and rage building inside, as your uncle stood in front of you were Cregan had.
“I see what you’re doing.”
“I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about, Aemond.”
“Hm.”
“Excuse me, I have to finish my conversation.” You pushed to try and walk past him, back into the crowd.
Aemond’s hand grabbed your arm as you moved to follow Cregan back into the crowd, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh of your arm.
“Let go of me.” You grunted, as you tried to yank your arm from his grip.
Aemond turned his head away from you, looking to the far wall where Ser Criston Cole stood. The man caught the Princes eyesight before coming towards you.
“Let. Go. Of. Me.” You growled, hand roughly pulling the One-Eyed Princes fingers backwards and off of you.
Ser Cole stood beside you, ever the dog of the Hightower’s.
“Please escort the Princess back to her chambers. She has had enough wine for the evening.”
“Yes, My Lord.” Ser Criston bowed, his brown eyes looking at your face expectantly.
“No. I’m not going. These are my celebrations. And I am celebrating.” You snapped. Trying once more to weave your way into the crowd, finding Cregan’s gaze on yours as he watched the scene play out.
“Don’t think you can whore yourself out to these Lords without me knowing.”
“Fuck you.”
“Hm.”
You snatched your arm away from his, before walking away from him back to the large table where you all sat. Alicent watched you anxiously as you sat back down, anger rolling off of you in waves, whilst your mother watched on in exacerbation.
You spent the rest of the evening sitting at the table, not speaking to anyone else, watching Cregan from across the room, and feeling the gaze of your uncle as he observed you from your side.
You grew tired and restless from the celebrations and eventually excused yourself, bidding the table a curt good night before leaving the Hall and making for your chambers. The further you got from the Hall, the quieter the hallways became, until all that you could hear was the distant laughter and chatter of the court, celebrating an already doomed marriage.
As you reached the end of another corridor that led to your chambers, you heard quickened steps on the stone floors behind you. Clasping your hands at your front you turned, expecting to see an angry Aemond, hot on your tails to berate you for the evenings events.
What you did not expect was Cregan Stark, rapidly approaching you, hair wild and smile wide. His cheeks were a soft pink from the alcohol and likely the brisk pace he made to catch up with you.
“My Lord?”
“Please, call me Cregan.”
“Cregan.” You smiled, “Are you alright?”
The tall man stepped forward in a rush, his large palms coming to grab each side of your face before pulling you hurriedly into a chaste kiss, his lips pressing roughly against yours. He pulled away just as soon as they touched.
You smiled at him, stomach doing flips, heat crawling up your neck.
“Some Lords and my men will be going down to Flea Bottom on the morrows eve. Join us.” He asked, voice rushed.
Your smile only widened.
“Where?” You asked, looking behind him to make sure that no one else was listening.
“At the White Stag. Say you will come.”
“I will.”
Cregan’s smile made your heart warm.
“Until the morrow. Goodnight, Princess.”
“Goodnight.”
The next day went by slowly, as you anxiously waited on night to fall, and for you to leave the Keep to sneak down to Flea Bottom to the White Stag, where you would meet with Lord Cregan Stark.
You had avoided Aemond like you usually did, opting to stay hidden in the gardens or your own chambers away from him, planning what to wear in your head mentally all day.
Soon the moon rose high in the sky, and you had your maids prepare you for bed, bringing a bath to your chambers, letting you soak in the hot water, scented with fragrant oils.
They could not leave your chambers sooner, and after you had finished your meal alone and had your hair brushed, you slipped into your bed and closed your eyes, pretending to be tired so that the maids would leave sooner.
As you heard the chamber doors close, you shot up out of bed, discarded the chemise over your head before throwing one of your black gowns on. Although you struggled to lace it yourself, you still succeeded. You pulled a large black cloak from your closet and pulled the hood over your head before placing a hand on the face of a painting. With strength you pushed the painting backwards, revealing a hidden pathway behind, one that you and your siblings and uncles had used as children, and one in which, you knew your mother had used in the past too.
Shutting the path door behind you, you slunk down the passageway, winding your way through the Keep, and then finally descending down large steps to Flea Bottom below.
As you reached the small city, the streets were lined with people and noise, drinks were being drunk, songs being sung and even performances in squares were watchers looked on at puppet shows and plays.
You wound your way through the streets, not entirely sure of where you were going. That was when you felt anxiety. You did not even know where you were, or how to get there. Or what even the White Stag looked like. You looked behind you and noticed that you couldn’t even remember what way you came.
Before you could let the anxiety overwhelm you, you felt a warm hand placed on your shoulder.
“Princess.” Came the smooth timber of Cregan Stark.
You smiled at the man who stood before you. Dressed in dark brown leathers with his hair brushed backwards out of his face, bar one lone curl that hung down from his forehead.
“You look lost.” He joked.
You huffed a relived laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you I wasn’t?”
“Not one bit.”
“Well, you'd best lead the way.”
The White Stag was a large inn, with stone flooring and walls, exposed wood detailing and low light coming from candles and a large fireplace. The windows were adorned with rich red curtains, and tables and chairs sat strewn amongst the space. As soon as you stepped inside, the air changed. It was hot, bodies were everywhere as they laughed and sang and even danced. Women sat atop mens laps or sang loudly as they stood nearby.
Cregan sat you down at a table that was full of men, you assumed also from the North, with three to four women standing beside, or leaning against them. Most ignored you as you sat, a large pint of mead being placed in your hand, as Cregan sat beside you. Turning his chair to face you fully, as you looked at each other.
“So, I have been thinking about what you said last night.” He spoke loudly over the sound of the inn.
“What did I say?” You teased.
“About oaths.”
“Oh, I think remember.”
“I thought of something else.”
“And that is?”
“Oi Cregan, who’s the girl?” Came a booming voice of a man across the table. His skin was pale and dotted in freckles, almost like constellations. He had short dark hair and piercing green eyes. Before Cregan could answer for you, you replied.
“Y/n.”
The man tilted his head. “Has the Princess lost her way?” He teased, smirk rising on his face.
“Leave her be, Dustin.” Cregan lightly warned the man, which only seemed to spark his interest more.
“So you are the Princess then. Where’s your husband?” Dustin asked, thick accent curling his r’s, as he looked behind you.
“I’m not married.”
“Ah, but you are betrothed.”
You sipped heavily form your drink.
“Not for a lack of trying. I had hoped to have that betrothal annulled. Do you have a spare horse?”
Dustin’s brow furrowed as he looked at you, then to Cregan beside you who laughed.
“You lost your dragon?”
“No, but I think the North would be far too cold for him. Plus, easily spotted.” You smirked, sipping again before turning your attention back to Cregan.
“So, what else had you thought of?” You inquired.
Stark smiled down at you as he shifted his chair closer, the sound of the wood scuffing on the stone below catching in your ears.
“Thought about oaths that I would make to you.”
“And what would those be?” You leant in closer, hand coming to touch his thigh.
“I would swear to honour you.”
“Go on.” You urged him.
“I would swear to give myself to you fully.”
“And?”
“I would swear to ensure that you never hunger or thirst for naught.”
“For naught?” You ask, heat building inside of you as you drank.
Cregan smirked in response.
“And what if I told you that I was starved?” You asked.
“Are you?”
“Of a sort.” You let your hand crawl higher up his leather clad thigh, the muscles rippling under your touch.
“Then I would have to work to fix that.” He smirked.
As the night continued, you and Cregan sat closer and closer to one another until your knees were brushing against each other. Dustin watched on shamelessly as a woman sat upon his lap, long slender fingers brushing against his neck as she spoke quietly into his ear.
The night was filled with the laughter and joy you had hoped for last evening. Ale was spilt upon wooden table tops and floors, as men and women began to sing louder and dance upon tables and chairs. Before long, the woman who had seated herself upon Dustin pulled you up with her, onto the table to dance.
You let her grasp your hand, as you laughed, looking back at an amused Cregan and and even more amused Dustin, as you pulled up your skirts to jump atop a large table, where four others had begun to stamp their feet and sing loudly to a song you had never heard. A sea shanty tale.
You let the ale guide your body as you twisted and danced, laughing loudly with the woman, who you learnt was named Sara. Her long auburn hair glowed in the light as you leant on each other to dance, one hand still tightly grasped in your skirts to keep them from ripping beneath your feet.
Cregan’s icy eyes watched your movements as you let a hand trail up the bodice of your dress, watching him with intent as you swayed. Stark leant back in his chair, legs widening, with one arm leaning upon the table as Sara placed a soft kiss to your cheek in excitement. You felt a blush crawl over your cheeks.
All eyes were on you, as the men watched you sway your hips, hands smoothing up your body in a slight tease. The ale making your movements bolder as you stared at Cregan, challenging him to take you somewhere more private, or if he so desired, there on that very seat.
Never before had you felt so desired.
As you bent forward to give the men a show of your cleavage, you felt the world tip suddenly, as a calloused hand ripped you from the table. Your ankle rolled sharply as you stumbled back onto the stone floor, iron grip bruising the soft flesh of your wrist. Your sight caught those of the table who watched you, no longer in a trance, stiffly.
You turned your head to you assailant, finding one piercing purple eye and another sapphire watching you in distaste. Aemond’s lips were pulled down into a sneer and he held onto you tightly, three men from the Kings Guard behind him, as well as Ser Criston Cole.
Cregan watched as Aemond towered over the both of you, looking down his nose as he watched in disgust, anger pouring from him in waves. And although he looked somewhat calm on the outside, you knew that this quietness was telling of Aemond’s simmering rage.
“Do continue.” Aemond purred, pushing you roughly towards Cregan, your feet stumbling beneath themselves.
“Don't-” You began before he interrupted you.
“-I think he was talking about fixing your hunger. Were you not, Lord Stark?” His one purple eye, boring a hole into Cregan's head.
Cregan did not answer, instead his jaw clenched.
“No?” The One-Eyed Prince mused.
“Aemond, stop.” You hissed, ankle sore from the way you landed on it.
“But you seemed so content, dancing for these Northerners, niece. Continue.”
“Fuck you. Craven.” You hissed, watching Aemond’s lip twitch upwards, before he looked back at Ser Cole.
“Ser Criston, have these men escorted to the edge of the city. I fear there has been treason this evening.”
Ser Cole and his men stepped forward, surrounding the table, as Cregan and his men looked up in shock. You looked at Cregan, wide eyed before turning back to Aemond.
“What? They did nothing wrong!” You began to panic.
“I fear there was a plot to tarnish your good name, Princess.” Aemond purred, snatching your arm painfully before beginning to pull you through the White Stag, and back out into the streets of Flea Bottom.
You dug your feet into the ground, trying to pull away from him, ignoring the slight pain of your ankle, but he was too strong for you, his bruising grip getting tighter the further he dragged you away.
“Stop! Let me go! They did nothing wrong!” You dug your fingers into his, trying to pry them away, but it was no use. He dragged you through Flea Bottom as onlookers watched.
You pulled a hand back, making a fist before you slammed it down onto his shoulder, “Get off!” You yelled.
Aemond stopped in his tracks, and you breathed heavily, still trying to pull away from your uncle. His head turned to gaze at you, his face completely devoid of any emotion, except the small twitch of his lip. His eye roamed you before looking behind you.
Then suddenly he was moving again.
Aemond pulled you into a small dark alley, bruising grip painfully throbbing up your arm. You looked frantically around you, but all had gone back to their business, and ignored the two Valyrians. He threw you forward into the space as your chest heaved, looking about to escape, but there was none.
“If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like a whore.” He purred before he descended on you. His hands pushed you roughly against the wall of the alley, brick digging painfully into your back. You squirmed, desperate to get away from his grip, hands coming up to his chest to push your uncle away from you.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” He growled, hands roughly coming up to palm at your breasts and you fought to push him off, fear crawling its way up your throat.
“Did you truly think I wouldn’t know what you were doing?” He sneered, one hand pushing against your throat roughly, cutting off your air. Your hands flew up to try and pull his away as he kept you locked against the wall in the dark depths of Flea Bottom.
“You thought you could parade yourself like a whore,” His hand ripped the front of your bodice down, your breasts spilling forth from their confines as his violet eye watched greedily, fingers coming to pinch painfully against your nipple, “To try and have this betrothal annulled.”
The cool air kissed at your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. You pushed at him with all your strength, trying to run away from the sharp pinching of his fingers, and the lack of air he denied you. Each pinch made your body stiffen.
You whimpered.
“But you misunderstand me, niece.” His hand left their cruel assault upon your breasts to roughly begin hiking your dress up your body, you felt panic and fear begin to settle in your stomach as you dug your fingers into his chest sharply with your nails , trying to get him to let you go, shaking your head.
“Do you think I would let some filthy Northerners touch you?” His hand slipped under your skirts, brutally digging into the soft skin of your sex, “It will be my seed that will grow inside of you.”
Aemond’s fingers rubbed up and down your cunt roughly, gathering what little wetness was there, before he thrusted two fingers inside of you. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt the sharp sting of his intrusion. His fingers moved in and out quickly and painfully, pushing roughly into your warm heat as he watched your face.
“This is what you wanted, yes? To be treated like a dirty whore?” He purred, as breathless whimpers left your lips, your hands weakly pushing against his chest as you felt your vision begin to blur from lack of oxygen.
Your uncle’s hand left your throat and you sucked in a greedy gulp of air, a sob escaping your lips as you clawed at his arm, trying to stop his movements, whilst the hand that left your throat came down to roughly grasp at your exposed breasts.
“What would Lord Stark say to see you like this, hm? To see the Princess exposed in the filthy streets with her uncle inside of her cunt. Would he still want you?” He growled, hand quickening its pace as you felt a warmth begin to settle in your lower stomach, the pain fading away to be replaced with the soft trickles of pleasure.
“Stop, Aemond. Please.” You begged him, voice hoarse as a tear slid from your cheek. He had you pressed so tightly against the wall that you could not move your hips back to escape him, so that all you could do was let him use you.
“Please?” He mocked, face coming close to yours before he kissed the tear away from your cheek. He hummed.
Your betrothed thumb came to press sharply at your slit, as his fingers rubbed the soft spongey flesh inside of you, pulling pleasure from your forcefully.
A ragged moan left your lips as you jolted from the sudden pressure.
“Mmm.” Aemond hummed close to your ear, moving his hand faster and more brutally. You felt tears begin to prick at your eyes, as you felt yourself being forced closer to your peak.
“Are you going to cum, zaldrītsos?” (Little dragon) He purred in your ear, as his thumb swirled roughly against the small bundle of nerves, the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten.
“Are you going to cum on my hand like a filthy whore? Out in the open for anyone to see? Perhaps I should have had Cregan and his men watch how disgusting you are.” He mused, and you felt yourself clench.
“Go on, be a good whore and cum for me.” He growled, and you felt the coil snap, as his thumb and fingers sent you over the edge, crashing down into a powerful orgasm.
His hands did not stop their assault, as you tried to push him away from you, tears sliding down your cheeks as your body twitched in the aftershocks of your orgasm. His fingers only became rougher as they pulled at you, before suddenly they were ripped away, a gasp leaving your lips as Aemond roughly spun you against the wall, your cheek digging into the rough brick of the alley.
His hands pulled your skirts over the rump of your ass, before pulling you backwards towards him. Your hands caught the brick as you tried to pull yourself straight and away from him, as Aemond clicked his tongue behind you.
“Be a good whore, and take it.” He hissed before you felt the soft hard head of his cock brush against the lips of your cunt.
You moved to pull away but you were trapped.
“Uncle, please. No.” You cried, as you felt him push sharply inside of you, pain blooming within as he broke through your walls.
Aemond grunted from behind you before he started a brutal pace, his hips slamming against yours roughly, as you felt the painful sharp intrusion of his cock inside of you. The head of it, roughly hitting your cervix causing shooting agony to ripple up your body.
“So fucking tight.” He growled as he continued his assault, broken whimpers escaping your mouth as you used your hands to hold you up against the wall in purchase, trying to crawl away from him.
Your uncle leant forward, crushing you with his body as he rutted up inside of you, changing the angle suddenly, brushing over the soft spongey flesh inside of you, causing you to mewl.
“Does that feel good?” He mocked as he continued to rub himself against the spot, the pain of him taking your maidenhead replaced with the warm sparks of pleasure, building faster than before. You shook your head, trying to move away from him.
“No?” He asked, “Let me help you.”
Two of Aemond’s fingers shoved roughly into your open mouth before it snaked down the front of your dress, pressing against your clit, swirling softer circles around the nub.
Your cunt clenched against his cock as he continued to rut against you, his soft grunts in your ear as you felt yourself begin to wet around him, his cock sliding in and out of you smoother, aided by your arousal.
“I think it does feel good. I can feel your slick.” He mused as he continued to rub on you.
You felt yourself rapidly descending towards your second release, your fingers digging into the bricks as you began to chase after the peak, hips subtly pushing back against him. His fingers began to rub faster against you, as he thrusted harder into you, cock grazing that special spot as the coil wound itself tight, ready to break again before suddenly he stopped.
Aemond pushed himself fully into you, the head of his cock pushing snugly against your cevix as his fingers lifted away from your clit, preventing you from reaching your climax. A soft sob fell from your lips as your hips pushed back into him, chasing what was denied.
“Uh uh.” Your uncle tutted, “Beg.”
A whimper left your lips.
You refused to beg.
Instead, pushing yourself up and down his shaft shakily, trying to catch your release, though your movements were jagged and shallow, prevented by him pushing you up against the wall.
“Aemond.” You whispered his name, feeling the pleasure begin to simmer away from you, dwindling rapidly.
“Beg.” He purred, softly pulling out and then slowly pushing back in, his shaft rubbing through you, causing pleasure to spark.
“Uncle.” You whimpered again, grabbing his arm trying to pull him closer, but he did not budge.
“Be a good little whore, and beg for it.”
“Aemond, please.” You begged, as you pushed your ass back into him, using your hands to attempt to rind against him.
“Please what, sweet niece?” He purred in your ear, hand grasping your hip tightly to stop your movements.
You shut your eyes tightly before sucking in a shark breath, head turning against the bricks so that you could peer at him from your periphery.
“Please fuck me.” You whispered.
“I can’t hear you.” Aemond mocked, as ground his hips into you, causing a wave of pleasure to curl its way around your stomach.
“Please fuck me, Aemond.” You begged louder. Feeling shame and arousal crawling through you as you hid your face back into the brick of the wall, pushing your ass back into his crotch, feeling his cock gently slide through your folds.
“Good girl.” He praised, before thrusting roughly into you, setting a sharp pace, hips clapping into the flesh of your ass, echoing in the empty alleyway.
A hand wound its way up your throat to hold you still as he pulled you backwards, arching your back against him as he thrusted wildly into you, before the other hand snaked down to begin rubbing at your clit again, fingers slipping around it smoothly with your slick.
“Please, please, please.” You whimpered, hips pushing back against him as his lips kissed against your neck, your second release rapidly arriving with every thrust of his hips.
Aemond grunted against you as he felt you clenching around him, each push and pull of his hips dragging the head of his cock against your sweet spot, before it sent you tumbling over the edge.
The coil snapped and you found yourself moaning loudly into the alley, his hips continuing their brutal pace as he pushed you through your climax, his fingers continuing to rub circles against you, prolonging your release. You felt your slick drip down your thighs, and moaned.
“Yes.” He purred into your neck, before his teeth dug sharply in to your shoulder, his hips stuttering against you, as you felt his warm seed spurting inside.
You sagged against him, letting him hold you up as he continued to thrust into you slower, letting each spurt of cum settle deep inside of you, as some began to leak out of you and down your legs.
“Fuck.” He sighed dreamily, as he pushed himself to his limit inside of you, feeling your cunt twitch around him.
A dull ache began to settle in your core as you felt Aemond slowly slide himself out of you, feeling his seed and your release drip onto the dirty ground below.
You breathed heavily as you caught your breath, leaning your head against his shoulder as his hands gripped your hips, bruising your tender flesh, before he spun you around to face him.
His hair was messed, and a light layer of sweat had settle upon his forehead. The pupil of his lavender eye was blown out so that you could scarcely see the iris behind it. His gaze trailed down your body to your exposed breasts which heaved with every ragged and exhausted breath you took. A hand came to stroke the underside of one softly, causing goosebumps to erupt across your body.
“My sweet niece,” He cooed, “Such a good whore for me.” You almost keened at his praise as his eye landed upon your lips.
Your uncle leant forward to press a rough and punishing kiss to your lips, hand curling in your hair at the back of your head, denying you to pull away. You kissed him back lazily as you felt him smirk.
The One-Eyed Prince pulled back watching you intently before he smiled.
“We will be wed on the morrow, and you will carry my seed, and grow heavy with my child.” He looked down, brushing a hand against your stomach.
You blinked as you looked at him.
“If you thought you could escape me, you were sorely mistaken.” He leant in close, lips brushing your ears, “Iksā ñuhon.” He purred.
You are mine.
I hope you enjoyed that lil request! Thanks so much for sending it through, it was fun to write. :)
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Hey!! I'm loving your kinktober propts so far! May I please make a request for one? With that small Dragons of Dorne AU we made up? With Aegon x Aemond x Milf!Martell!Princess (I've been calling her Alanna)? Maybe with double vag penetration... and some good ol' lactation kink... 🤤🥵
AN: Hi, I hope you like it x
NSFW
“Always so hungry….” Alanna purred into her dragon’s ear; amusement dripping in her tone as well as the soft pleasure coming her way. Aemond had no words to reply as he only hummed; his hot mouth capturing her soft, ample breast. A soft chuckle escaped her before her sun kissed body rested back on the orange silks of her sheets.
Her body hummed with pleasure as the soft mouth of another dragon Prince was between her thighs. “Good boy.” Her praises fell from her lips with ease and she knew they would rile the boys up. They were wrapped so prettily around her finger, Alanna thought to herself. Oh, and how good it felt. Her stomach was already tightening in pleasure.
Her delicate, ringed fingers reached for Aemond’s soft, silky hair and brought him impossibly closer. Her sweet, sensitive nipples being attacked by his hunger as the Princess whines so prettily. It did not help that Aegon’s experienced tongue was lapping away at her flooding wetness. Her stunning, bare body arching in pleasure as she begins to ride his face.
“Gods, oh fuck.” Alanna was not one to hide her sounds of pleasure or the praises her dragons so desperately needed. “So good to me..” The words were falling from her once more as those dark eyes of hers rolled back. Her slender legs wrapped around Aegon as he only feasted more with hunger; those bright eyes of his looking up to his Goddess.
The milk was soon spilling from those heavy breasts of hers, much to Aemond’s delight. “Hmm, mine…” Aemond whispered mostly to himself as his free hand reached for her sweet breast and began to palm her. The climax ripping through her body without warning had her thrashing around like a woman possessed.
Aegon only fucked her through her orgasm as two of his thicker fingers were soon stuffed inside her weeping, creamy pussy. Aemond’s strong hold only tightened as he too feasted upon her body. Gods, she could never escape them now, she thought to herself. And if she was honest with herself; she did not want to either.
His thumb was brushing against her sweet, sensitive clit with ease and just before her moans could fall from her; Aemond’s soft lips captured her own. His tongue pushed in without asking but Alanna soon submitted with ease to him. The wet kiss was soon becoming messy as she began to drool and suck on his tongue.
Their noses brushed together before a sharp gasp escaped Alanna. Aegon’s fat, throbbing cock was pushing inside her fluttering, welcoming pussy. Aemond only darkly chuckles in her ear as he watches her pretty face screw up in pleasure. His larger hands slowly move down her silky skin as Aegon grunts out his own enjoyment.
Aemond slowly moved away but before any words could escape her; Aegon’s greedy lips were on hers. “My love…” He purred and slowly pushed her leg up and dangled over his shoulder as Aegon only pushed deeper. Alanna’s eyes rolled back once more as he began to hotly mouth down her soft, mouth watering neck.
Aemond’s hot mouth soon returned to her leaking breasts as he hummed happily. His tongue kitten licking her sweet tasting, pebbled nipple. Gods, he was obsessed, she thought to herself but she would have him no other way. Alanna was soon distracted by the harsh thrusts; Aegon’s fat, leaking head bullying her soft spot with ease.
Her slender legs were eagerly wrapping around his body and pulling him deeper; her own stomach tightening once more in anticipation as her whole body hummed. She could hear her heart racing in her ears as she whined so prettily against Aegon. His pride was rushing through him as Aegon darkly chuckled.
Her eyes were rolling back as those ringed hands of Alanna’s reached for the silk sheets to grab onto. Alanna did not notice Aemond slowly leaning away as her body jolted with each touch of Aegon’s slender fingers brushing against her creamy pussy. “Oh..oh my…” Her soft voice began to echo around her chambers.
A sharp gasp escaped her and those big, brown eyes of hers flashed open. The feel of another thick cock brushing over her sensitive clit had her mind softening for a moment. Aemond’s familiar, deep chuckles sounded out. “Shh, so good to us, hmm?” Aegon purred as his hands slowly moved over her body and gently stroked her.
Her hand reached out for his stomach as her eyes only widened. Those soft lips of hers began to part. Alanna’s pretty face screwed up in pleasure still as Aemond began to fist his fat cock; his leaking head tapping on her clit again and again. All she could do was whine as her inner thighs were now completely soaked.
“Too big — “ Alanna whimpered out as her heart only skipped a beat at the feel of Aemond slowly beginning to push in whilst Aegon slowed his thrusts to a stop. His thumb still rubbed at her sensitive clit that had her fluttering around them both. Aegon’s hand slowly moved over her stomach; pressing on the bulge in amusement.
Aemond’s hand slowly pushed her legs further apart as he grunted. Alanna’s warmth completely engulfed him. Allana could only gasp out; those big eyes of hers watering in pleasure as her head fell back onto the pillow. “Good girl…” Aegon chuckled whilst their pretty Princess was whimpering in pleasure before finding the courage to watch.
A foamy ring of cream had already formed around Aegon’s fat length as he slowly moved his hips now. “Fuck, so tight.” Aemond growled as inch by inch he was bottoming. Alanna could hardly breath as her body arched from the sheets. “Oh..oh gods…” Her cries of pleasure were only becoming louder now as the pleasure became more intense.
Aegon rubbed her sweet, sensitive clit faster as the boys chuckled at the sight of her losing control. Oh, it was an addictive sight, they thought to themselves as Alanna began to squirt. Aemond’s fat cock nearly fell from her before he pushed deeper. He groaned and his own hands reached for the sheets now as he leaned closer.
His lips were soon passionately capturing Alanna’s own as he began to nibble on her soft, plump bottom lip. His tongue eagerly pushed in as her eyes rolled once more. She was babbling absolute nonsense now. Aegon’s hand came down on her arse and caused her sweet, creamy pussy to clamp down on their cocks.
Aegon only chuckled and repeated the action again and again whilst another release was quickly building inside her. “Ahh-I…” Alanna was so close to passing out; it was all becoming too much as the pleasure overwhelmed her. “Fuck!” Aegon groaned; having been in her warmth the longest it was all too much for him also.
His cum was soon flooding her with ease as he pushed his fat cock deep, plugging her up but Aemond’s thrusts had it leaking down. Aegon groaned as he stayed inside her before leaning in and capturing her heavy breast in his hot mouth. Aemond’s body was slapping against hers as his eagerness overtook him with a passion.
Aegon bit into her soft skin and had Alanna crying out; her orgasm easily ripping through her. Aemond grunted in her ear before his slender fingers were soon roughly rubbing against her clit. Her toes curled as he pushed deep and she cried out at the feel of her spongy, weak spot being hit. It did not help that her milk moving into Aegon’s mouth only had him harder and his hips were soon rocking.
There was no end in sight.
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"You Know Other Men??"
So I based this off that one incorrect HOTD quote that goes:
Reader: "You are the most jealous man I know."
Aemond: "You know other men??"
You ran your hands through your hair, beyond frustrated, as you watched Aemond clean the blood from his sword. You had not been married for very long, but your courtship had been nearly a year, so you believed you understood Aemond’s moods quite well. Clearly you were mistaken.
“You seem upset, dear wife.” He remarked, glancing up at you, blood splattered across his face.
“Upset? Do I really?” You asked mockingly, your voice high-pitched and strained.
“Yes, you are doing that thing where you smile, but you are actually quite angry.” He said, a mischievous smile on his perfectly pink lips.
You want to strangle him, you want to kiss him, gods perhaps you would do both. “You did not have to kill Lord Edwin.”
Aemond raised an eyebrow. “You are my wife, it is my duty to defend your honor.”
“He was merely informing me that my skirt had been torn.” You protested; eyes wide in disbelief.
Aemond finished cleaning his sword and set it on a nearby table, turning fully to face you. “Why was he looking near your skirts at all? He was aware you were a married woman; his eyes should not linger below your chin.”
It’s maddening how good he looks covered in blood, and you have to restrain yourself from grabbing him and dragging him back to your shared chambers.
“He was being kind. Just like Sir Dorin, Lord Balter and that barkeep in Fleabottom, all were merely being kind.”
Aemond stepped closer to you, tilting your chin up with one finger. “Sir Dorin was clearly lusting after you, I caught Lord Balter pawing at your bodice, and that barkeep was intentionally trying to get you intoxicated so that he could have his vile ways with you.”
“Sir Dorin was assigned to protect me, Lord Balter was simply admiring my necklace, which he intended to purchase a duplicate of for his betrothed, and the barkeep was only giving me drinks because you were paying for them.” You counted off the explanations on your fingers, eyes fixed on Aemond.
His smoldering gaze was slowly chipping at your anger, and when his hand came up to grasp your waist, fingers splayed, your breathing picked up.
“I hear no reason for why they should have lived.” He said simply, dipping his head, his nose brushing along your cheek, voice low and vibrating through you.
“Aemond.” You sputtered, flabbergasted at the way he could so easily circumvent your words while smoothly disarming your anger with the barest touch.
“Y/N.” He purred, lips brushing against yours. “Do not be angry with me, sweet wife, I cannot help but be protective. You are so beautiful, and I know if you were married to another, I would stop at nothing to steal you away from him.”
Your face was hot, your resolve all but crumbling, as you felt yourself lean into his touch. “How far would you go for me, my love?”
Aemond’s hand gently cupped the back of your neck, lips against yours as he spoke. “I would kill for you, y/n, you know this. You have seen this.”
You toyed with the lapels of his coat. “But if I was not yours, what would you do?”
He meshed his lips fully with yours in a searing kiss, the hand on your waist like a vice grip, as he skillfully took you under the taste of mint on his tongue, so unique and so Aemond. Ever the man of duty, he was always presentable, always in perfect condition. Never did you find his appearance unpleasant, even now when he was covered in an innocent man’s blood, you craved his skin against yours, pushing yourself flush against him, uncaring if your dress got ruined.
“I would hunt you and your husband down, captivate you with my words and actions, take you to my chambers and make you see stars over and over until you forgot your wretched husband ever existed.” He said, pressing heated kisses to your skin.
“But I would still be married.” You reminded him.
“I would take you in front of your husband, let him see how his wife writhes on my cock, how she begs for the pleasure only I can give her.” He growled.
You whimpered at his words and squeezed your thighs together.
He smirked, his fingers caressing your clothed side, gently creating a confusing mix of emotions to bubble within you. “Then after you finished, babbling my name, too cockdrunk to form a proper sentence, I would make sure he saw as I seeded you. Make him watch as I ensure that my son takes root within you.”
“Yes,” you breathed out, hand fisted in his tunic. Your chest brushed against his as your breathing turned rapid, your pupils blown wide with lust.
“Then I would kill him, feed him to Vhagar and bring you home.” He finished, pressing a sweet kiss to your clavicle.
You blink in confusion as he pulls away, an unbothered expression on his face. “I think you are the most jealous man I know.” You said, hand still clinging to his tunic.
Aemond hummed lowly, his eye roaming your face. “You know other men?”
You rolled your eyes and playfully smacked his chest. “As if you did not know. Their blood is on your sword, dear husband.”
“Better their blood on my sword, then their hands upon your skin.” He responded, shrugging as he fought back a smile.
“You are insufferable.” You said, shrieking with laughter when he swept you into his arms and kissed you.
“And you are lovely.” He said, connecting your lips once more, you both smiling into the kiss.
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010
#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond x y/n#aemond x fem!reader#meg's writing#not a request just a thought i had#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd fanfics#hotd#wife!reader#aemond targaryen fanfiction#prince aemond#aemond x female reader#I actually think this man is so funny#he's crazy but it's funny#also blood thirsty reader is my fav too#hotd fanfic#prince aemond x reader
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The Decay of something gone preview
The depressing sequel to what was originally a one shot but have made into a two parter.
The first part is here to read
Preview of the happy sequel to the part above called ‘The rebirth of something lost’ is here to read
Taglist for this chapter currently: @ietss, @papichulo120627, @rorawinters, @introverbatim, @alicentswife, @brie-annwyl,
“I don’t care what the people question!” Aemond shouts. His anger is overflowing as he walks to his mother and grips her arms in frustration. He can feel his nails digging into her arms and even see the slight fear that slowly envelopes her. “The people do not know how I have suffered! How much my wife has suffered! I will not have those insufferable cunts dictating things about my own marriage!”
His fingers unknowingly leave small dents in his mothers arms. His nails which have grown long from neglect draw into her skin so deeply that even with the clothing between he nearly draws blood. It’s not even until she winces in pain that Aemond notices what he’s even doing.
“M-mother I-“
“Save it Aemond. I know you are mourning in your own way. I know your wife is mourning. Because you betrayed the vows you spoke together and insisted you drew blood for. It is her right to burst down these doors and draw that same blood from you with her own blade. I will not let you drag that girl down with you my son just because you wish to cling to a life you threw away for a fucking bastard wet nurse belonging to house strong!”
If you wish to be added to this or even the other versions taglist then feel free to leave a comment :)
#wip#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x you#aemond targaryen/reader#the death of a life au#aemond targaryen request#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen imagine#house of the dragon#house of the dragon aemond#hotd#aemond x reader#aemond fic#aemond targaryen fic
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Hi author first of wanted to say I love your work !
I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't feel free to delete this 💛
Modern spy Aemond x naive reader [ Aemond meets her when he's on a mission and becomes obsessed with her how can someone be so sweet and innocent !? He just has to have her also baby trapping and smut if you're comfortable writing it ]
follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)
pairing: modern spy!aemond targaryen x naive!reader
warnings: explicit language. stalking. very much nsfw smut. once again, aemond is an obsessive and pussywhipped little bitch with zero thoughts within his pretty knocker. manipulation. innocence kink. breeding kink/baby trapping at the end.
notes: hi, yes, this is me coursing through uncharted and absolutely fucking rough waters in some attempt to spice up my usual smut writing style
(aka me practicing for the next chapter of my modern series)
masterlist
A career life built solely around espionage (or a sort of black shadow warfare mixed with cold combat) came dirty, bloody, and uncertain.
Or, at least, that was what Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen would tell himself on the daily, in some attempt at justifying the ends to the means. Really, this entire situation could have been a lot worse, he thought- after all, the lives of countless innocent civilians could have been caught within his crosshairs. He hated when that happened; it was always so messy, and came with heavy and boring paperwork.
However, that was not the case this time, thankfully.
It was only one innocent civilian in his hands, and she was still safe and sound.
Aemond had never meant to stick around the city for so long, having other missions queued up after this one, but fuck…you were perfect. Godsent, the prettiest and most delicious slice of heaven above, and he did not consider himself a godly man, nowhere near in the slightest. The gods loathed his type, he knew, and never hesitated in casting them all down to the pits of hell.
But you…
He had met you during the mission, while stuck undercover at some random little café on the corner street. The boss sent him to stake out some old-money and big-named crime mobster that was allegedly dealing weapons and various drugs under the noses of local law enforcement, a suspect on their “Most Wanted” board. And you- well, you were tucked away in a small booth, hunched over two thick college textbooks while multiple paper assignments laid strewed across the table top, so unaware of his presence sitting tables away on the other side of the room.
Gods, you were absolutely gorgeous, he thought. So fucking pretty, with those eyelashes and charm bracelet and focused look on your face. It made him forget all about his original mission. Fuck that, he has a new one now. And there was the cutest pout on your pink and glossy lips that made his cock harden, despite not having the faintest clue on what your name could be.
(That itself was no concern of his, he could find it out later in the evening. And he eventually did.)
You were there at the café the following day, and the day after that. Always with your head in those damn school books, his pretty and dutiful schoolgirl. The sight made him chuckle, and smile, and fill with the strongest urge to ruin you completely with his mouth, and fingers, and cock. On the fifth day, he finally decided to step up to your table, interrupting your usual study schedule with a shy smile and your favorite drink in hand, as well as a chocolate chip cookie.
“I- uh, I hope you don’t mind, miss,” he said, feigning bashfulness, “but I’ve seen you around everyday for this past week and thought, maybe, you wouldn’t mind being friends? I’m new in town, actually…and- well, I don’t know a lot of people around here…” he added, watching your pretty eyes widen.
And, fuck, your lips were glossy again, and he stood there (like a complete idiot) wondering what flavor they could possibly taste like.
Cherries?
Strawberries? Blueberries?
Maybe mimosa or peppermint patties?
“Oh, well, of course! I don’t mind whatsoever,” you replied cheerfully, rousing butterflies in Aemond’s stomach. “I’d be happy to be your friend,” and you patted at the spot next to yours, slugging away your tote bag and books so that he could sit down, and you could introduce yourself.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Aemond became your friend, first. The easiest way to manipulate your unsuspecting victims? Through trust and friendships, per the teachings of his old childhood mentors back at the academy. Throughout the next month, he bought you hot chocolate and matcha tea lattes, joined you in quick lunch dates, insisted on driving you to your college classes, and went with you to the little bookstores scattered across the city. It was fun…and torturous- utter torment and near physical agony- because all he wanted to do was fuck your pretty pussy until you could no longer remember your name and your cunt was to the shape of his own cock.
He would sit beside you in the café booth, listening as you drone on and on about your favorite, most passionate subjects, all while trying to desperately hide the boner in his jeans and rid his mind of such dirty thoughts and fantasies. There was no use, though. Aemond was fucked, too addicted and obsessed.
He wanted you, now and forever.
But that was not the worst part. The worst part was that you had not the smallest clue of what you were doing to him. You were just his sweet companion, his dear friend, too innocent and naïve to both the world and the waking beast deep within him.
He often followed you back home, to that tiny apartment near the college. Aemond swore it was because he wanted to make sure you were safe and protected from any of his enemies, anyone daring to steal you away from him, but he knew it was more due to the chances of seeing you undress and shower and decide which nightie you would wear to bed. And, sometimes, he got treated to his sweet girl trying to touch herself. It was so cute, so endearing, to watch you slip a hand between your thighs only to pause because you had no idea of what to do, and how to fuck your own fingers inside your cunt until you came.
Poor, sweet girl of mine, Aemond shook his head, tutting. Alone and in need.
How could someone so pretty, such a fucking cock-tease, be so innocent and untouched, so stupid and unknowing to everything sexual?
It did not make any sense to him.
Maybe you were made for him, and only him, and this was the gods’ gentle way of telling him to change his ways before it was too late. Leave behind this career of his, wash away all the red staining his ledger and hang up his callsign, all so he can start a family with you. The family he needs, the one he deserves.
Yes, he thought, that makes more sense. You need him the same way he needs you.
And, really, who was he to ignore the gods above? Aemond himself was no godly man, it was not in the nature of a spy like him- but for you, perhaps the fates might allow it.
Two months later, after a dinner date, Aemond has you pressed against your apartment’s door, his mouth frantically devouring yours in a fervent and wet kiss. It has been so long, so torturous, weeks after weeks of constant late-night jerking off to your pretty pictures and those blue-laced panties he managed to slip from your bedroom that one afternoon and pretending that all he wants to be is your friend.
You are so beautiful, so stunning, especially within this very moment, chest heaving out heavy breaths while you peer up at him as if he is a god.
He grabs at your face, a rough grip on your chin. “Tell me you want it tonight,” he demands, his lips near your ear. You shiver and clutch at his arms, so close to melting into nothing but putty in his hands. “Want what, Aemond?” you ask innocently, batting your dark eyelashes up at him. Fucking cock-tease. He chuckles while trailing light kisses along your jawline and down your neckline, mouthing at your nape and clavicle. You mewl at the feeling. “Please- please, don’t stop…”
“Do my kisses feel good, baby?”
“Yes,” you sigh out, tangling your fingers within his silver hair, “it feels amazing.”
He smirks. “It will feel a whole lot better in a little while, I promise you, sweet girl. But I need to ask…do you trust me?” You nod frantically, leaning up to kiss his lips. “Of course, Aemond. You are my dearest friend! I trust no one more than you.” Aemond just laughs at your words, yearning so badly to tell you that- by the end of the night- your cute ass will no longer be ‘just his friend’ but something much more, definitely.
But where is the fun in that?
“Good, good. Just relax and enjoy everything, okay?”
Aemond then pushes you back against the door, quickly slipping off the pretty floral top you wore and groaning at how your lacy bra cupped your breasts perfectly. Where have you been all my life? He thinks while snaking his hands around your back to unhook your brace and toss it somewhere over his shoulder, too busy salivating over your free and ample breasts and perky nipples.
“Fuck, look at you…so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles, kneading at your breasts. You stiffen, flushing under his heavy gaze before moving to cover yourself up, feeling a little self-conscious. Aemond shakes his head, gently tugging your hands back to your side. “No, don’t you dare cover yourself up, baby. Not in front of me.” His fingers pinch your nipple, cause your back to arch. “I’ll never understand why no one has ever devoured this pretty body. Gods, look at these tits. You’re so beautiful, baby, a fucking wet dream come true. Mmm, yeah, bet they’ll taste delicious,” and he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth.
You’re delicious here, and Aemond knows you will be even more down there. His poor cock, still tucked inside his pants, feels like it is weeping, too impatient and irritated and ready to ruin you. His hand slides down your belly to rest on your hipbones and thighs, fingers ghosting around your panties.
“Ohhh…” you gasp out, biting at your bottom lips when his hand slips in.
“Fuuckk,” he drawls out against your breast, thrusting a finger into your wet cunt. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet down here. Absolutely soaking, poor baby.” Aemond strokes your slit a few times before rubbing your clit with his thumb, hearing the way you whine and shake at his actions. “I can’t wait to be inside you, fucking you till all you can think about is me.” He continues his thrusting, watching how your pretty face scrunches in sheer pleasure.
“Are you enjoying this, baby?” he asks, humming. “Do you want me down there tongue-fucking you? Hmm? Oh, wait, my sincere apologies, pretty girl, you probably don’t even know what that means.”
You moan, loud and high-pitched, teeth still chewing on your bottom lip. At your silence, he spanks your ass, causing you to lurch up with a massive gasp. “Use your fucking words, sweetheart. I don’t care for silence, especially from you.”
The more you remain quiet, he thinks, the more spanks you’ll receive.
Eventually, you fling your head back, bumping it against the door. “Okay, yes! Please! Please, Aemond…!”
Grinning, Aemond stands up and draws his lips back to your ear, saying slowly, “Spread those legs then, baby girl, right now.” When you do so, he sinks down to his knees, both hands gently clutching your thighs, “Yeah, that is a good girl. My pretty, good girl of mine.” He moves his face to the front of your pussy, “Can you feel my breath against this pretty clit? Are you waiting for me to devour this pussy? Tongue-fuck you until you’re a stupid little mess? Tell me, baby.”
He then blows against your wetness, ignoring how you jolt hard at the feel. And I’m not taking no for an answer,” he adds before slinging a leg over his shoulder.
“Oh gods, yes, please,” you whine, jerking your hips up against his face. Aemond slaps your asscheeks hard- once, twice, three, four times. “Beg, my pretty baby. C’mon, I know you can do it. Beg for my tongue, beg like you mean it, you stupid and horny little slut.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words and you whimper. “Don’t be mean to me…” you whisper, trying to blink away tears.
Aemond raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you thought that, because this is your first time, I would be nice? My sweet summer girl, you teased me enough these past several months, and I’m done playing nice. Now, tell me you want this. Tell me you want me to claim this pussy as mine.”
Your wanton cries are everything he needs in this life, he soon realizes. If he can spend the rest of his days with his face buried deep between your thighs, he swears he’ll die a happy and satisfied man. The way his name glides off your tongue is incredibly, completely wonderful, and his mind fills with various fantasies and all the positions he will soon have you in, helpless and dripping like a whore in heat.
His pretty whore, forever and always.
“Fuck, baby, who am I to deny you such?” Aemond buries his face between your trembling thighs, inhaling your mouth-watering scent one final time before slipping his tongue inside your wet folds. “You taste so fucking good, baby- shit, you’re leaking all over my face,” he moans amid long licks, fucking you both with his tongue and fingers.
“Oh, gods! Oh- oh- oh…!” You shriek, both legs buckling as your hands clench into tight fists. All of your little moans and whimpers, those pathetic pleas and begs, they all send more blood rushing to his cock. You don’t recognize the early grave you’re digging at, too overtaken by the pleasure.
“So fucking tight against my fingers. How the hell will you take my cock, baby? Fuck, I’m going to destroy you.”
You moan again, in such a loud and lustful cry that causes his resolve to only weaken faster.
“Oh! Oh, Aemond, this feels so good! Please- please, don’t ever stop,” you wail, fat tears gushing down your cheeks. This pleasure, it is a feeling like nothing before, not even coming close to those few times you made some sad and futile attempt to touch yourself, too confused on how to deal with those strange tummy butterflies that seemingly hatched from their cocoons the day you meant Aemond.
How thankful you are that you met him.
Your body squirms every couple seconds, only to wince when he spanks your ass hard again.
“Shut the fuck up,” Aemond hisses without venom. He is too much in love with you for poison. “Do you wish for your neighbors to know that I’m fucking you right now? What would they think? The pretty and sweet girl that lives here, too innocent and naïve for this damn world, letting a man eat her out like a whore.”
You shake your head again, eyes puffy and red from all the tears. “N-no, Aemond…” you stutter out.
Aemond pauses his fingers, now curious to see how far he could go with this new type of torture. But it is not long, though, before you buckle against his hand, your bruised and swollen chest pushing up with stiffened nipples. And your body, it soon tightens as your flustered face screws up in that telltale sign that you are only seconds away from cumming. The scene is beautiful, very much so, and he feels pride that it is all from his own doing.
Yet he drags himself back up on his feet, removing his fingers from your cunt before you could cum. Perhaps it is a bit too cruel on his part, but Aemond could care less; he wants you to cum on his cock for your first time.
There will be many more times of this, he wants to reassure you. He doesn’t, though.
You’ll find out on your own time.
You gaze at him through bleak and narrowed eyes as he unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his ankles. “You poor, poor little thing,” he tuts, running a gentle hand through your damp hair, “-are you tired? You look tired, but from what? You didn’t even cum once!” He pats your cheek, “Don’t worry, my sweet girl, you’re about to. Can’t tell you how many times, but it’ll be a lot.”
And Aemond does not wait for your response, instead snatching your hand and pressing it against his boxers. “Can you feel that, baby? That is my cock. Can you feel how hard it is? You did this, you made me so fucking hard that it hurts.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “Now, that is not very nice, is it? No, no, no it is not. I thought you were a sweetheart…” He shoves your hand back, ignoring the small tears that gather in your eyes again.
“I’m sorry,” you croak, wiping them away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Aemond! Please don’t be mad at me…please, how can I help you? I’ll do anything,” you pout as you watch him slip down his boxers. Your teary eyes grow as wide as dinner plates, and your breath hitches. It is so sexy to him, eating away at the little self-control he is trying to maintain.
You’re a virgin, he reminds himself. Soft and easy, my baby deserves that.
“Shhh, baby,” Aemond rasps out, cupping your face within his hand. He kisses your nose, cheeks, and forehead before finding your lips. “I’m not mad, really, my sweet girl. I know you meant no harm, you’re too sweet and good for that,” and he holds your face against him while readying to fuck you with his cock. He can feel your short pants, the little breaths you take, and how you shudder whenever his clammy skin meets yours.
“Relax your body, baby girl, don’t tense up. It will hurt less…good girl, that’s my good girl.”
Nice and slow, he chants as he slowly sinks into your cunt, groaning at the tightness, slow and nice. You whimper, eyes rolling back as begins his thrusts, slow and easy. I’m a gentleman.
Mother made me promise to be a gentleman.
I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman.
But the look you are giving him, with your lips pink and puffy from the shit ton of kisses and bites, and the way your pussy clenches around his cock…it is causing him to forget all about how his mother indeed made him promise to be nothing short but a gentleman.
You’re too pretty for him not to devour, and…well, were you not made for him? The gods created you with the purpose of him eventually finding and caring for you, the way it should’ve always been- the way it will be for now on. His one good eye (the one those stupid bastards left alone back at the academy) watches as you shake and quiver and mewl out the sweetest and yummiest little moans.
The way you are right now, you’re just begging to be made into a new mother, and his mind goes insane at the sudden image of you heavy with his children, huffy and sore and always exhausted. It is delicious to think about. Aemond- truthfully- never really thought about kids, constantly busy with the espionage lifestyle and the back-to-back missions, but you…oh, he knows that, after tonight, you’ll have no choice but to remain by his side as the baby grows, needing him to protect and provide and shower you with love and affection.
He’ll be the best husband and father, and you his good girl- his precious slice of normality.
The way it should be, the way it will be.
It is half a year later that Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen finally connects back with his boss through a phone call.
Before that, he dropped off the grid, returning no calls and messages and signals, leaving everyone behind at the headquarters confused, concerned, and scratching their heads as to why their finest agent suddenly vanished without a trace.
He was not dead- they knew that. He was just…gone.
“What happened, agent?” The director asks, fiddling with his pen while another agent of his attempts to get some kind of reading on him. No luck; Aemond made himself untraceable. “Are you hurt, Aemond? Did someone threaten you? You left after I assigned you that mobster and- well, we assumed the worst, son.”
Aemond chuckles, shaking his head. “No, boss, do not worry about me," he says, "I’m good. Very good, in fact, the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, one might say.”
He leans against the doorway, arms crossing over his chest as he watches you flip through a baby store catalog and marvel at all the products they have for sale- the finest baby strollers, a variety of cribs, bassinets, and swing sets, and the cutest little animal plushies and clothing.
“Frankly, boss, I just grew tired of the spy life.”
“Is that so? And pray tell what you are now, Aemond One Eye.”
He smiles, eyeing your baby bump and how you are utterly glowing. “I’m a family man.”
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x modern!reader#aemond targaryen x you#modern!aemond#dark aemond targaryen#aemond smut#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond the kinslayer#house of the dragon#house of the dragon imagine#hotd fanfic#request#vic writes 🧸
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Oooooo just found your blog and I’m in love!! I was wondering if you could do an Aegon Targaryen x innocent sister wife!reader and in the scene where they find him to take him back to the castle to be king she’s brought along to entice him out but she’s just crying and pleading with everyone not to hurt him and let him go but she’s being held back because she’s the leverage to make him compliant. Maybe she’s trying to get him to take care of him!! 💕💕💕
Hello! My first request woohoo! I got more angsty than I expected with this but ‘twas fun. Hope you like it✨ I had fun!!
Til’ Death Do Us Part 
The king, your father, was dead. This you knew. You knew Aegon was to be crowned king, something he wholeheartedly despised. Down in your heart you also knew your brother-husband was not meant for it. Gods know he hadn’t made an effort but the family saw that Aemond, or even Rhaenyra would be better as the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.
Now Aegon was missing and Alicent had sent Aemond and Ser Criston to find him. He was most likely in Flea Bottom or dead to the world in a pillow house along the Street of Silk. You worried at your lip as Alicent raved to the men. You turned a blind eye to Aegon’s revels, trying to change his ways in a more gentle manner. Your brother responded to those better than slapping or screaming. Seldom he would stay with you and lay off the strong wine.
But when he did it was enjoyable. The conqueror’s namesake needed love at the end of the day, whether he was aware or not. You jumped when your mother raised her tone. Aemond frowned and bit out, “Let me take her. He’d be like to come along if I bring our darling sister.”
You gasped, “What? Me? I don’t want to be where Aegon has his…excursions.”
Helaena’s lilac eyes jumped between her husband and you. She enigmatically sighed, “Put out the flames.” Aemond muttered something to Ser Criston and the Dornish Kingsguard called to you, “C’mon then, I will keep you safe my princess.”
Alicent frowned at your scared expression and pulled you into a hug. She whispered, “Just bring him home darling.”
They stuck you in some hideous brown garb, hiding your pale hair under a hood. Aemond and Criston suited up underneath their disguises. Deliriously you stifled a giggle at Criston’s silly hat. The three of you hustled through the bowels of the castle, passing maze-like hallways and Balerion’s skull.
Your eyes watched the shadows of the Black Dread’s teeth against the stone of the walls. You remembered Helaena’s words about putting out fires and shivered. Her strange words always came true in a sense. Aemond’s hand at the small of your waist ushered you along.
You felt a growing dread in your stomach as your party exited on the streets of Flea Bottom. Beggars, whores, and the worst of small folk did their usual thing while you stared on in horror. Aegon always teased you about being clueless outside of castle walls.
Aemond and Criston shadowed you when they knocked on a house’s door. A whore came out and leered at Aemond. Apparently this was a spot for Aegon in his younger days. You learning needle work with Helaena and he was exploring the pleasures of the flesh. You frowned and averted your gaze when the lady laughed at you.
Off your party went again, a tip given by the woman. Crowds busied themselves around you. Eventually Ser Criston’s face grew pinched at your next destination. Aemond hissed, “C’mon then we must go.” You tried to keep your hands from clinging to his robes. Criston squeezed your shoulder and closed your body to his. You sighed in slight relief at the white knight.
Inside was horrid. It was dank and smelled of piss and the iron smell of blood. Children swung and hissed at eachother down in a pit. Your stomach roiled and your hand closed over your mouth. You cried, “Ser Criston, I- I cannot.” You clenched your eyes shut at the children fighting each other. Aemond’s eye turned to you, a steely look coming over his angular features.
“This is no place for a lady. I’ll meet you two outside.”
Cole nodded and half-carried your struck frame out of the sordid establishment— if one could call it that. Your fingers clenched into his garments roughly, tears welling up. He frowned at you, a hand rubbing your back as you held back sobs.
“W-why would he be in there? What went so wrong?”
“I don’t know princess, I’m sorry you were exposed to such…abomination.”
Your brain tried to wrap around Aegon reveling in somewhere like that. Anger burned lowly in your belly, but overwhelming feelings of disappointment and sadness smashed that. Aemond stalked out with his lips pursed. He eyed you and huffed.
“Fucking deviant. He’s not there. C’mon.”
Criston gently pulled you away and ushered you along. He commented, “Where do you suppose the prince is?”
Aemond hummed and stalked forwards before stopping. He nodded silently at the heads of the Cargyll twins moving in the direction of the Grand Sept. Your heart sunk and lifted simultaneously. The party moved on to the sept. Aemond and Criston argued about Aegon and the crown, you silently following.
On the steps you saw the familiar curled platinum hair of Aegon. You gasped at his disheveled state— lank hair, bruises, and a cut adorning his cheek. You could tell he was drunk from your spot. He stood between the Cargylls, staring glassily. Criston announced their intent and held his sword up.
Your voice quavered as you pled, “Don’t hurt him, please!” Aemond’s stern gaze whipped to you and your jaw clamped shut. You knew what he meant, leave this to the men silly girl. In a flash, Aegon shouldered off one of the twins and ran for it. Criston engaged the other kingsguard and Aemond ran after your brother. You cried out at the flurry of violence and screaming.
You stumbled to Aegon and Aemond wrestling on the ground. Aemond growled, “You’re embarrassing all of us! Look at your wife brother!” Your own Valyrian eyes met his and a pitiful whine exited your throat. His gaze softened for a fraction before he went back to shouting.
Aemond brutally shoved your love down, the other thrashing. You wept, “Don’t hurt him Aemond please stop! Aegon, Aegon,” you grabbed your other siblings shoulders, “Just stop it now!” Your teary eyes tried to find Ser Criston and shoved off by the brothers at the same instant. Aegon grabbed Aemond’s face and pleaded, “I will sail away on a ship with her and you’ll never see us again!”
You cried softly as Criston walked up and said coolly, “Your lady mother awaits.”
Aegon’s face schooled into a look of defeat, tears welling in his eyes. Aemond thrust him towards you with a curse. Your hands found his soiled clothes and gripped at the fabric, eyes searching his own for a semblance of sanity. He pulled himself away and grabbed your hands. Aegon’s eyes were downcast as he muttured, “We must go. I’ve done all I can.”
You whimpered and followed along.
“I just want you to be okay,” you weeped.
He sighed, “M’sorry, so sorry.”
Aegon’s heat drew closer to you through the streets. You started to repeat yourself, “I just- you can’t do this anymore. I’m so scared.” His throat bobbed and he croaked, “I’m sorry.” That’s all he could manage on the way back, not responding to your begging. Your eyes were red from the salty tears and the corners of your mouth ached.
You were rushed into your chambers to get ready for the coronation, your Mother promising Aegon’s presence to join yours before the procession. You continued to weep for your brother while the handmaidens readied you. Once the never ending tears began to dry you sat on a chaise overlooking the window into the city. You felt empty, shivering even in the muggy air.
Your door opened and Aegon entered softly. He looked handsome in his black garb bearing the sigil of your family. The red cut on his cheek told the real story of today. He looked down still, swaying ever-so-slightly.
“Come here,” you said.
He walked to you and fell to his knees at your feet, his arms wrapping around you. You instinctively pet at his pale locks, fingers combing through the waves. Aegon’s head laid on your lap, his tired eyes gazing up at you. He asked, “Do you still love me?” Hot tears seemed to come back with a vengeance.
You sighed, “Yes of course I love you, you fool. I wish you’d love yourself,” you frowned, “It…pains me to see you like that Aegon. Hurts my heart.”
You sobbed again, cursing yourself for these weak emotions. He grasped at your dress, his mouth pulling into a pout, eyes watering over again. You gripped at his hair and spat, “You’re still drunk too! Aegon why?”
He trembled under your fingers and weakly replied, “I’m fucked up— you don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry, I don’t know? I’m not meant for all of this. I love you so much and I can’t control myself.”
You gestured for the unhappy prince to sit by you. The pair of you clung to each other like when you were children. You kissed him gently, the man returning the favor. You said against his lips, “Well. We can’t change our outcome dear. I’ll be here always until the Stranger calls.” He nodded and pressed his forehead to yours and sighed, “I know. Seven cursed me to be blessed with you.” He kissed you again, holding onto your frame like the last shred of good in his life— which it was.
#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aemond targaryen#sister wife!reader#innocent!reader#hotd fanfic#request#angst
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