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fragileheartbeats · 1 month

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⌗ 𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘐𝘈𝘍 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 ( ♱ )

— 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐, 𝘔𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳, 𝘑𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐, 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘉𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯, 𝘈𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐𝘐, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐𝘐𝘐, 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑹 ─ ♕

Possessive Protector

Aegon would view his sister as a crucial part of his reign, an extension of his own power and influence. He would be intensely protective, viewing any threat to you as a threat to his realm. His love would be as fierce as his ambition, and he would go to great lengths to ensure your safety and happiness, often equating the two. He might call you "My Queen," elevating you above all others in title and in his heart. His demonstration of love would be grand gestures, like dedicating victories or conquests in your name. His obsession is less about controlling you and more about ensuring your safety and happiness, albeit in a way that places you within a golden cage. He would be intensely protective, using his power to shield you from any perceived threat. He would lavishing you with gifts and luxuries from across the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon makes sure you have everything you desire—except freedom.

As you walked through the gardens, Aegon's arm never left your side, his presence a towering fortress that no fear could penetrate. "All this," he gestured to the sprawling city beyond, "is yours, as much as I'm yours. Together, there is nothing we cannot conquer."

𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑼𝑬𝑳 ─ ⸸

Ruthless Dominator

Maegor's love would be terrifying in its intensity. He would see any perceived slight against you as a personal affront, worthy of his cruellest retribution. His way of showing love would be to remove any and all obstacles to your happiness—often permanently. He might refer to you as "My Heart," a term of endearment that suggests you are the only softness in his hardened world. His demonstrations of affection would be acts of protection and vengeance, ensuring you are untouchable and revered. He sees you as his alone, reacting violently to any perceived competition or dissent. His love is a suffocating force, controlling every aspect of your life. To Maegor, you are a possession, the only person he believes can understand him, yet someone he fears losing to the point of paranoia.

In the quiet of the night, Maegor whispered promises of undying loyalty and protection, his words a stark contrast to the tales of his ruthlessness. "You are mine," he growls, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "And those who dare even think to harm you will face my wrath," he vowed, a dark promise that chilled you to the bone yet filled you with a perverse sense of safety.

𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑺𝑬 ─ ✦

Benevolent Guardian

Jaehaerys's approach would be gentler, his love grounded in respect and a deep desire for your well-being. He would go to great lengths to ensure you have a voice and agency, rare for the times. He might call you "My Light," seeing you as the beacon that guides his rule. His love would be shown through acts of kindness and the creation of laws that protect and empower you. He would be your unwavering supporter, always seeking to resolve conflicts in your favor. Jaehaerys's love is subdued and patient, believing deeply in the power of his bond with you. He's protective in a way that seeks to uplift and support you, though he struggles with the idea of you wanting anything—or anyone—beyond him. He treat you with kindness and respect, always striving to ensure your happiness and fulfillment, yet subtly steering you away from any paths that lead away from him. He sees you as his partner in every aspect, the wisdom behind his throne, yet fears the thought of you not needing him as much as he needs you.

Under the vast sky, Jaehaerys took your hand, his touch gentle. "With you, I see a future bright with promise," he said, his voice full of hope. "Together, we will build a realm where love and justice prevail."

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ 𖤐

Passionate Rebel

Daemon's love would be as fiery as his dragon. He would be impulsively protective, often acting first on his emotions. His term of endearment might be "My Flame," indicative of the burning intensity of his love. His way of showing affection would be through daring acts meant to impress you, sometimes bordering on recklessness. He would see you as his equal in spirit and adventure, always seeking to include you in his escapades. Daemon's obsession is wild and untamed, driven by a desire for your attention and adoration. He craves a partner in his adventures, sometimes at the cost of your own wishes or safety. He might keep secrets from you to "protect" you, believing that the end justifies the means.

As you soared above the clouds on dragonback, Daemon's laughter echoed through the sky. "With you, every risk is worth taking," he shouted over the roar of the wind, his eyes alight with wild love.

𝐁𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ ✿

Gentle Watcher

Baelon would be the type to show his love through constant, steadfast companionship. He would be protective but in a more reserved manner, always there to offer a supporting hand rather than leaping into battle. He might affectionately call you "My Blossom," seeing you as the rejuvenating force in his life. His demonstrations of love would be thoughtful gifts and gestures, each meant to remind you of his unwavering presence in your life. Baelon's obsession is quieter, more reflective. He deeply values your presence in his life, seeing you as a guiding light. His protection is more about ensuring your happiness and less about control. He treat you with tenderness and care, always attentive to your needs and desires, even if it means putting his own aside. He sees you as his sanctuary, the peace he turns to in a tumultuous world, yet fears the day you might find sanctuary elsewhere.

In the quiet sanctuary of your shared chambers, Baelon offered you a rare book, its pages filled with tales of legendary heroes. "To inspire us both," he said softly, his gaze warm with admiration and love, "for you are the truest hero in my eyes."

𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑫 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 ─ ✞

Paranoid Sovereign

In his youth, before madness took a strong grip, Aerys's love would have been passionate, marked by high highs and low lows. His affection could be overwhelming, suffused with an intensity that's both captivating and daunting. He would see you as his sanctuary, the only person he could trust, calling you "My Solace." His demonstrations of love would be lavish, yet erratic, reflecting his increasingly unpredictable nature. He would be extremely protective, seeing threats in shadows, often acting irrationally to safeguard you from real and imagined dangers. Initially tender and loving, his treatment becomes erratic, with moments of warmth punctuated by sudden, baseless accusations and demands for proof of your loyalty. He show his love through lavish gifts and public declarations of your importance to him, which slowly become attempts to isolate you from perceived threats.

Within the confines of the Red Keep, Aerys held you close, his gaze flickering with a mix of devotion and an edge of something darker. "You are the only light in a realm filled with snakes and shadows," he whispered, his touch both tender and possessive.

𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑮𝑮𝑨𝑹 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 ─ ＊

Desperate Dreamer

Viserys's love would be fraught with desperation and a deep-seated fear of loss. His affection would be possessive, driven by the fear of losing another pillar of his identity. Having faced so much hardship, he would cling to you as his one true claim to happiness, calling you "My Treasure." His way of showing love would be through promises of future grandeur, envisioning a life where you both reign supreme. His protective nature would stem from his paranoia of losing you, just as he lost everything else, leading to controlling behavior masked as concern.

In the dim light of your meager shelter, Viserys's fingers traced the lines of your face as if memorizing each detail. "Soon, we'll return to our home," he murmured with a fervor born of desperation, "and I'll crown you as my queen, my only love."

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑 | 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ ♫

Melancholic Poet

Rhaegar's approach to love would be deeply emotional, tinged with melancholy and a sense of destiny. He would view you as his fated companion, calling you "My Muse." His demonstrations of love would be poetic and thoughtful, often expressed through song or written words. His protective nature would be subtle, more about ensuring your happiness and fulfillment, believing that your paths are inextricably linked by the stars themselves. He treat you with a gentle yet distant affection, often lost in his thoughts and prophecies, struggling to balance his visions with the reality of your relationship.

On the shores of the Quiet Isle, Rhaegar played his harp under the moonlight, the soft melody a testament to his undying affection. "In every life, in every world, I'd find you," he said, his voice low, "for our souls are bound by the music of the universe."

𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬-𝑬𝒀𝑬 ─ 𓆸

Vengeful Warrior

Aemond's love would be fierce, marked by a warrior's intensity and a readiness to confront any challenge. He would refer to you as "My Victory," seeing your affection as the most significant triumph of his life. His way of showing love would be through acts of protection and a readiness to engage in battle for your honor. His possessiveness could manifest in jealousy, quick to perceive rivals for your affection as enemies to be vanquished. He treat you with a volatile mix of passion and jealousy, often viewing any attention you give to others as a challenge to his claim over you.

Amidst the ruins of a conquered castle, Aemond declared his undying loyalty to you, his single eye burning with a fervent promise. "To the ends of the earth, I'd fight to keep you safe," he vowed, his arm around you a steel band of protection as he whispered in your ear "I would die for you."

𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑼𝑺𝑼𝑹𝑷𝑬𝑹 ─ ☁︎

Broken Monarch

Aegon's obsession would be tied to his lack of love, seeing you as his whole world. He would call you "My World" or "My Crown," indicating both his affection and his aspirations where you are concerned. His love is demanding, expecting your loyalty and affection as his sister. His demonstrations of love would be grandiose, aimed at solidifying both his and your status. His protectiveness would stem from a desire to be loved, viewing threats to you as threats to himself, and he would not hesitate to use his resources to eliminate such threats. Through public displays of favor and privilege, making sure everyone knows of your special status, yet this often feels more like marking his territory than genuine affection. He treat you with a mix of indulgence and expectation, showering you with gifts and attention but always with the underlying demand for your undivided loyalty and love.

In the opulent halls of the Red Keep, Aegon placed a delicate crown upon your head, his gaze locked with yours. "Together, we are invincible," he proclaimed, "and I will let no one, nothing, stand in our way."

@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

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lovelykhaleesiii · 6 months

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hi there! would you be up to writing smut

Dark!Aemond? something for example with age difference, daddy kink, corruption kink, degradation and breeding? If you are comfortable then Reader could be a Targaryen what would be great but if you aren't comfortable then Stark is perfect too

Twisted, Beautiful Minds.

PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Niece!Reader

WORDS: 2,677.

WARNINGS: mentions of warfare/murder, mentions of death-threats, swearing, degradation kink, choking, Daddy kink, corruption kink, breeding kink, manipulation, narcissistic tendencies, male oral receiving [cock sucking], mentions of p in v sexual intercourse.

A/N - you know I'm always down for some dark!Aemond... I want to also dedicate this piece, as a small bday gift to my wonderful friend Mar @aemondsmoon you have been an absolute light for me on this hellsite, and one of my dearest friends... thank you for always being there for me, and thank you for being you. you are an absolute gem, don't ever change. ilysm! 🤍

The turmoil and toils of war had finally come to an end, when Aegon the Elder, your Uncle, had commanded Sunfyre to set your beloved mother, Rhaenyra, and younger brother, Aegon III, to death by dragonfire. Your heart shattered, and mind numb, you were certain your own death was imminent in the moments after: at the very least, your Uncle would punish you with a dragonrider's death... Yet that would not be the case at all.

It seemed other plans had been set in stone. Chained and escorted by the Kingsguard to return to King's Landing once more, where you had only days previous, fled in fear, were you welcomed by the cold stares of the "Green" Council. Your chains removed, as neither the King nor his Mother, had seen you as a threat, you felt no purpose to resist nor to fight back... Your family dead, your will had died along with them.

"Fetch for Aemond. Tell my younger brother that his betrothed has returned."

His stern words felt incomprehensible in your thoughtless mind, lagging to understand the notion. You felt a cool, chill course through your weak body, rigid as though you had turned to stone, and yet, you were still breathing, still ever so present. No one had consulted you on such plans or schemes. And you were certain that Aemond himself would definitively refuse to marry the daughter of a traitor [as you presumed he would justify]. Your Uncle, Aemond, was a formidable man, fought against your late father, and had emerged the victor... And as the war, and the recent imprisoned days had taken its toll on you, your eyes darkened with the lack of sleep, unable to eat a crumb of bread, you did not look as you once had in your frivolous court, as he had once remembered you.

Although, as he sauntered into the room with such poise and stature, a certain charisma of that of a victor oozing about him, with not a single word exchanged, other than a devious smirk supplanted across his once serious face...It seemed there was more to the union than meets the eye.

Since your captive return to King's Landing, a place in which you had once considered your home, felt nothing more foreign. The stone sand walls that you had walked and run through as a child, now looked strange, the unfamiliar symbols of the Seven proudly hung around every available wall and space, gave an ominous feel. The halls seemed less brighter, even during the break of day, with the sunlight blatant in the sky, you instinctively felt as though a shadow lurked around every corner, attentive to your every move.

Dragonless, and defenceless, you were less of a threat than the younger Princess, Jahaera. The King and his Council had deemed you stable enough to roam the castle grounds freely, with a close knight in pursuit, only to ensure your own "protection" [as Aegon would admit that Aemond insisted], although you saw it more as means to deter you from being tempted to run away.

Regardless, Aemond had not spoken a word to you since hearing of the betrothal. He attended dinners with you in sight, although you rarely spoke yourself, mostly pleading and bickering with Alicent to remain in the desolate confines of your chambers. She was incessant about you joining the family, as the union was to be set in a moon's turn.

He dared not even to sit beside you: constantly at opposing ends. Although, there were rare occasions you had caught the younger Prince, brazenly staring at you with his one good eye. Unapologetically, his full attention spanned towards you, even if he had noticed you had become aware, he did not cease gawking.

Something about his looming gaze made you feel uneasy, very much on edge: a dark tinge to his violet eye, his pupils darkened as they seemed dilated. It inevitably made your stomach churn, only forcing you to resign in defeat, often excusing yourself to bed.

And often you were left undisturbed to recluse in your chambers... Although tonight, it seemed you were not alone in your ventures.

Retracing the exact steps you would take most nights, often on your lonesome return to your quarters: this time there was an accompanying sound in the distance, echoing down the hallway behind you. Heavy footsteps that caught your immediate attention. Slowly panning around, the shimmer of his lengthy, silver hair against the pale moonlight that peaked through the open crescents of the corridor, was alluring to your eye. Halting in your tracks, your breath hitched against your throat, all in trepidation, as Aemond effortlessly caught up with you in a few short strides. This was the closest he had ever truly come up to you, his towering height against you, made him even more daunting face to face.

"Running off to bed again, I see. And why is that?"

The sudden eruption of his deep, low voice breaking the stillness of the castle passage, startled you uneasily. You had exchanged many words and conversations with your elder Uncle before, during an ancient time long before the Dance had spurred. Although, the dynamics had inevitably changed, blood had been shed viciously and cruel words spat. Despite the same Valyrian blood coursing through your veins as of your betrothed, you felt solitary in their surrounding presence.

"I-I lost my appetite, U-Uncle. I wish to retire for the night," You aimlessly stutter, too weak to hold eye contact with Aemond, whose gaze remained fixated on you. His vibrant lilac orb luring over every inch of your timid body.

"Do you think it wise to roam the castle your lonesome self? Has the war not taught you otherwise? Is my niece still that same stupid, little whore I have known?"

His harsh remarks shadowed by that familiar, sly grin struck across his slim face, was plenty to furnace an incoming reaction from you, your blood boiling beneath your tender skin.

"Ah- tongue tied now, princess? Have I struck a chord with you, hmm? Mayhaps you are as weak as your father was... Now, how would he feel knowing you are to marry me? That I'll fuck his little girl, like the common whores he saw."

Your mind had no correlation to your hand, and yet the simmering rage that blistered through your body sent your mind to abyss. The small palm of your hand, strikingly latched across Aemond's face furiously. And yet, although a sharp stinging sensation poured across your hand, Aemond remained unfazed and sturdy. It seemed you had smacked the grin across his face, and in its stead, that familiar, unnerving dark tinge in his eyes scorned across at you.

Before you knew it, Aemond gripped your sides firmly, forcing your body forward, as he harshly shoved you against the cold, stone wall.

"You think that wise, whore? After the mercy I fucking showed you. I could have your fucking hand for that, or worse your head. My pretty wife's head on a spike, I'll have it right outside my window."

The cruelty that oozed from his precise lips was relentless. You wanted to burst into tears or more, burst into flames there and then...

"Do you know how long I have waited to have you under my very touch? All the sacrifices I made, the arguments I fought against my own Council to keep you alive? Ungrateful fucking bitch. Did your Daddy not teach you to be a good, obedient girl?"

One of Aemond's calloused, rough hands reached up hastily, his long fingers wrapping just so lightly around your throat, as his thumb gently stroked at your lips. His viable eye ogling tentatively over your mouth, smacking his lips innately.

"I'm your fucking Daddy now. Teach you how to be a proper lady, and a good fucking wife. I'm going to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, till you are dripping of me. I'll have you begging like a pathetic, stupid whore. I'll fuck you till I have heirs of my own, till I see fit that you have disgraced your extinct, traitorous bloodline."

"A-Aem, U-Uncle-" You breathlessly whimper in fear: freshly, swelled tears glaze your vision, as they begin to clear with each shedding streak.

"What did I just fucking say? I'm not your Uncle anymore, bitch. I'm your fucking Daddy. You would be helpless without me. Probably dead without my doing. You fucking owe me."

"Y-Yes-" Another breathless whimper, although Aemond's grip loosened, his other hand began to slowly move its way over towards your breast. His uninjured eye moving in motion with his hand, eagerly wandering over your bust. That same, very hand, began to keenly grope at your plush side, kneading at your breast tenderly, it felt foreign and sensitive under his strange touch.

"All fucking mine... Finally. Did you really think, I would let some insolent lord have you to himself? I'd start a war for you, I won the war for you. And now you're going to repay me, just so-"

A mindless moan flew out of your wet lips, catching you abruptly by surprise, and by the looks of it Aemond, as his blackened pupil dilated with a ravenous hunger, his ears pricking and leaning forward in delight.

"I'll have you moaning for more, precious. Now on your fucking knees-"

Even with the hatred that roared deep within your belly, you felt reluctant to retaliate, as you knew Aemond would effortlessly overpower you. As he had in your youth, when you were caught in a brawl with him, often ending with him wrestling you to the ground. And after his detailed spill of such vile threats, you dared not to risk the second chance of life, you had been granted.

Your knees hit the concrete floor with some brutality, although you regained from the ache. As you steadied your propped position, your hands gripping tightly at Aemond's slim waist, he began to undo his grey, washed out trousers.

The sheer sight of his cock, was intense enough to have you questioning whether you could even take him. Although slim in girth, his length was extraordinary. A reddened tip just oozing lusciously with a white, clear film glistening over the crown.

"Suck Daddy real good, bitch. Show me that, that mouth has other good uses than for talking back."

Your attention lurking from below, dropping from Aemond's face to his cock and back up once more to his face: the sudden change in his mood shifting was palpable. The momentary, light-hearted look of ecstasy dismantled as a cold, unsettling gaze resumed across his handsome face, lingering over your kneeled state.

"Make me fucking repeat myself one more time, whore and I'll treat you worse than a whore. I'll have you forget that you are a Targaryen princess."

Aemond's large hands found their way at the base of your skull, teasingly stroking your loose strands away from your face, within a few seconds the sudden shove towards him, left you physically speechless. Your mouth slightly agape, was enough for Aemond's stiffened, pulsating tip to propel its way into your tight mouth. The friction of his hard cock against your silky, warm flesh inside, was enough to set Aemond's breathing into a speedy pace. Lean chest heaving, the mindless groaning on his behalf was somewhat alluring. You had never seen nor heard such sounds or vulnerability in Aemond before.

"F-Fuck, that feels so fucking good- Just as I prayed to the Gods. I'm going to make your mouth so numb, so fucking filthy of me, you'll be tasting me still in the months to come."

No coherent words exchanged from below his waist, only muffled moans and breath hitches, as you sulked with crave. As much as it infuriated you, pained you to admit, the feeling of Aemond's rigid, throbbing cock in your mouth, was elevating. You had to admit, in your youth, previous to the blood that had been shed, you had a childhood feverish crush on your elder Uncle, although thought it unlikely that anything would flourish from it.

"Seven Hells. Such a pretty whore, with a pretty mouth. J-Just the p-prettiest whore in the Seven Kingdoms."

With each plunge, rhythmically bobbing backwards and forwards, the raw taste of Aemond's cum, tastefully filling your mouth to capacity, as a mixture of his reside and your own saliva oozed from your crevices. The dreading thought of being caught in such a contentiously vulnerable position, especially before being wedded, was disturbing enough, for you were not yet widely favoured by the Council...

"Ughh- Swallow and get up, whore."

Self-disgust stirred nauseatingly in the pit of your gut, as you reluctantly devoured small mouthfuls of Aemond's load, almost convincing yourself you would retch it all up in a matter of seconds. Much to your relief, you remained poised, meekly wiping away the mess across your lips, shying away from Aemond's unmoving regard. As you regained your normal pace of breathing, Aemond lent a hand over, grasping your undivided attention. With such ease, Aemond aided you, lifting you up to stand, before confining you closely between the wall and his heated body once more, closing whatever space was made between.

"Now let's see what that cunt has to offer."

His skilful hands hiking your layered gown up, making way for his arms to snake around your bare thighs, lifting you idly off the ground.

"Can't wait till the wedding to tarnish you, I've waited long enough."

A sudden bolt of lightening pain shot from within your inner thighs, as your tight walls stretched out ceaselessly to accommodate, as Aemond shoved his rigid cock inside. Your back flattened against the sandstone wall, its texture rough against the delicate silk of your gown. Burying his length deeper and deeper with each harsh thrust, his heavy balls collided with your silky folds as he vigorously pumped himself back and forth. His pace, although rough, remained steady. His raw, sensitive tip pummelling at your cervix, felt scorching inside your lower belly.

"And if I fuck you so good, that you begin to swell with my child... What would your dead family think of their precious daughter then, huh? These tits belong to me now, and the mother's milk that comes with it. Your entire being belongs to me now. That babe in your belly will be all because of me, and you'll fucking love every bit of it."

"I-I owe you my l-life, D-Daddy-"

The words mindlessly slipped from you lips, and yet it felt instinctual to say. As Aemond's mouth lapped at the sensitive crook of your neck, you felt the smirk of his grin against your skin, his sharp teeth faintly biting at your soft flesh.

"That's right, baby. That's so right my needy, little slut. You have a Daddy now that can really take care of you, protect you... Love you."

The epitome of his words, the calm depth in his voice, had reached its glorifying peak, as Aemond's hot load shot up directly into you, reverently coating your insides. Like some royal orchestra in unison to his final thrust, did a growling moan escape his lips, followed by an whisper of a swear. Leaning his exhausted, heavier mass over you, as he safely guided your legs back down to the surface, his breath densely hot against your ear, his outstretched palms cladded against the wall for support.

"Clean yourself up, Y/N... Wouldn't want anyone else to see you as the whore that you are, and get any ideas-"

His heavy breathing made his voice less formidable and more husky. Eyeing over your form, as you once more scoured and polished up the mess he made between your thighs, with the inner layer of your gown. You simply nodded in response to his demand, before hastily attempting to rush back to the confines of your quarters.

Yet, a firm pull tugged at your elbow, causing you to halt in your tracks, unavoidably.

"I will seek you out again tonight... Be ready for me."

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

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sunfyresrider · 1 year

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Love & Ruin

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: drinking, cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, idk if this is dark!aeg or yandere but he's not okay, mentally. Word count: 7k Note: Part one of two:) I really hope yall like this. Reader is Helaena's age. I did not proofread; fuck it we ball. Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @annikin-im-panicin @its-actually-minicika (Hi girls ily)

‘It wasn’t meant to happen like this’

Aegon paced back and forth inside the throne room waiting for the return of his brother. The storm that had rolled in was heavy, the sounds of hail beating the glass window echoed throughout the room. The sudden crash of thunder and jolt of lighting sent a shiver down his spine. The candles that lined the room were not enough to fully bring light into the dark. It was almost poetic; the storm echoed his inner feelings perfectly.

‘How could you do this?!’

‘Have you gone mad!’

‘Think about your wife! Your children! How will this look?’

‘She won’t show us mercy now, you fool!”

It had been hours since he sent Aemond to Storm’s End. The mission couldn’t have been that hard, go ask for a Baratheon bitches' hand and bring back a person. His mother had taken to chewing at her nail beds until they bled. His grandsire sat with his face in his hands contemplating how to fix this.

Once a crown was placed on his head Aegon found a new sense of confidence, one that could no longer be stolen away by those around him. His family could no longer control him nor tell him what to do. He was king and kings did not ask permission. They took what they wanted. From now on his word was law and this mission was the only reason he didn’t flee to Yiti. It was promised to him then taken away and he fully intended to take it back. And what he wanted was traveling to beg for Lord Borros to side with the pretender…

Five hours, it took five hours for the roar of Vhagar to be heard over the red keep. The storm had subsided to a light rain, yet the sky remained dark. Finally, he rose from his seat, his heart pounding in anticipation. A giddy smile creeping onto his face that his mother couldn’t help but scoff at. It didn’t matter anymore; he had won his first prize in war.

Murmurs from the council filled the once silent room but Aegon could only hear the pounding of his heart. His eyes locked onto the door waiting for them to walk inside. His imagination swirled with possibilities and all of them were better than his current situation. Alicent and Otto stared from a distance, both realizing their potential mistake. They let the dog off the leash and now they were about to suffer the consequences.

Guards rusting outside the doors caught everyone’s attention. The room went eerily silent as the doors began to creak open. Aegon nearly jumped out of his skin as he walked forward to meet who was coming.

Aemond, drenched in water, stalked inside slowly. His face was a mix of regret and… fear? The world stopped and as if on cue a flash of lightning followed by a crack of thunder that lit up the room. Aegon’s heart ceased to beat, his smile melted into nothing, and his feet threatened to give out on him. His mother’s eyes widened, and her hands fled to cover her mouth. Aemond struggled to lift the wet, bruised and unconscious body in his arms. He let out a shaky breath,

“There’s been an… incident.”

From a young age Aegon knew he had no love from anyone besides himself. His mother simply tolerated him, his father forgot him, and everyone else loathed him. The first-born son who should inherit everything but instead was given nothing. The son born to be loved but destined to be hated.

It was no surprise he was the way he was. He drank more than he should, fucked more than allowed and was cruel to those who may or may not deserve it. No one was born evil; they were raised to be that way. At least, that’s what he told himself to feel better at night.

And he wasn’t truly evil in the eyes of most anyway, just terribly pathetic. A lonely fourteen-year-old who may never feel loved. A boy who would never fully feel the warmth of someone’s gentle touch, the excitement when they approached, the soft reassurances and sweet nothings they would whisper, the true connection when intimate with someone you loved. It was all out of his reach… Until you started coming around.

For the better half of your life your mother, Rhaenyra kept you decently hidden from most of the court. It was not at all because you shared your features with Harwin Strong but because you were simply too precious for the world. You were her only daughter, her first born and you were too beautiful for the men in this city to gawk at and prey upon.

She would protect you from everything her father couldn’t protect her from. So, yes you didn’t get out much and when you did Harwin, and your brothers followed close suit. Rhaenyra did become more lenient as you grew. It was better to let you live as you wanted under watchful eyes than be locked away because of her own fears. At least that’s what Harwin told to calm her.

You were strictly prohibited from a handful of things though. Absolutely no leaving the keep unless it was daytime, and a handful of guards were there to follow. Absolutely no wandering around after dark, anywhere, no matter the circumstance. And finally, absolutely no involvement with your uncle Aegon.

Sadly, you were born with the same rebellion in your heart as she once had. The very first thing that needed to be handled was Aegon. It excited you to no end thinking about why he was banned from speaking to you. You needed to know why it was prohibited and see if it was as exciting as you thought.

Dusk had fallen on the keep and the light from the windows was beginning to fill the corridors orange. It was one of the rare moments you were able to be completely alone. You were supposed to return to your chambers immediately after your septa lesson but had time to stroll. Right now, your brothers would still be in the dragon pit, your mother in a council meeting and Ser Harwin getting ready for his nightly patrol. It was price time to make an escape and seek him out.

You found him in a compromising position. He was curled up in the corner of the library and reeked of wine. There was a subtle shine on his face from tears that were shed earlier. He looked pathetic, not in a bad way, in an abused puppy way that made your heart melt. How could you be banned from talking to him? When asleep he looked like a poor Angel. You crawled next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “Uncle?” You whispered into his ears.

“Aegon?” Your soft voice began to rouse him from his slumber. His eyebrows began to furrow slightly. “Aegon, wake up.” He jumped away and snatched your wrist, startling you. “Brother?!” His eyes scanned the room and you before settling with the most confused expression plastered on his face.

“N-no Aemond isn’t here. I-it’s just me.” Aegon paused in his drunken haze. Who was me? You were too pretty to be a maid, your clothes too fancy. His eyes danced up and down your form as his brain slowly started putting it together. “Your niece. It’s __ ”

His hands released you slowly as his mouth slightly hung agape. Why in the seven hells was Rhaenyra hiding a creature as beautiful as you? Yeah, he had seen you in passing maybe once or twice but never really got a good look.

You had the perfect plush lips coated in a shade of pink. Your eyes were large and glistened with his reflection inside your pupils. Your hair fell elegantly, highlighting your pretty face. And from what he could see from your neckline you had a nice chest too, for your age.

He felt two small warm hands cup his cheeks, pulling him from his thoughts. Aegon stared at you confused, his lips puffed out. “Oh Aeg, are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” Oh gods, you were too precious. He was too dumbfounded to say anything, maybe too drunk still to fully grasp the situation.

You weren’t wrong though; someone did hurt him. His mother barged into his room and slapped him clean across the face without warning. Ranting and raving about his behavior and how he was disappointing the family. He nodded slowly, not exactly sure how he was supposed to react. You let out a deep sigh and your lips formed a frown.

You knew exactly what to do. Your mother had done the same every time you or your siblings got hurt. You rubbed the tear stains on his cheeks and kissed his forehead gently. A soft smile appearing on your lips, “don’t cry please or you’ll make me cry. You’re a prince and a good son. You ride the prettiest dragon in the world and so many people think you’re amazing. You have so much to offer and they’re just too blind to see it. So many love you, I love you and-”

You were cut off by the sounds of your mother calling out your name searching for you. You let go of his cheeks and quickly embraced him. “You’re perfect, okay? Don’t cry.” You jumped to your feet and brushed your skirts down. “I gotta go… feel better!” Aegon sat and watched your little feet scurry off into the direction of your mother's voice.

His eyes were wide, and he was frozen in the same spot. Seven hells, seriously where the fuck have you been his entire life? There was a pool of emotions swirling inside him he couldn’t fully grasp. Your little hands and soft voice saying the sweetest things to a complete stranger. The way your lips softly pressed against his forehead radiating warmth throughout his body. You were so innocent, so blindly loving… You were his.

It was an odd thing for him to think. He never really desired someone for just himself, Aegon didn’t really care until this point. But right now all he could think about was stealing you away and keeping you tucked away in his room forever. Corrupting you slowly but only for him, no one else could see it or experience it. He needed more, desperately and as soon as possible.

He forced himself into wobbly legs and sucked in a deep breath. It was time to talk to his parents.

The plan failed so horrifically he could swear the gods were pissing on him. He went and asked for your hand, said he was ready to be a good son, bring the families together finally. Aegon was shot down so fucking fast he got whiplash. His mother was okay with it, seeing potential benefits. But his father was adamantly against it as was his bitch sister.

“You think I’ll let him drag my daughter into his depravity? Not until I am cold in my grave.”

That could definitely be arranged. It made complete sense; he was the eldest son, and you were the eldest daughter. You were heir and he was the second son of the king. There was absolutely no reason for rejection besides their own selfish, impossible to understand reasons.

It didn’t really fucking matter. When he wanted something, he got it one way or another. Thus, he came up with a plan to steal you away and woo his way into your heart permanently.

Aegon had stayed painstakingly sober the entire day and avoided any of the whores he usually wasted his time with. He waited til long after the sun had set to sneak through Maegor’s hidden tunnels to try and find your chambers. It was a hassle, he stumbled into Jacaerys’s room once and immediately backed out. Then he walked past what he assumed was a hidden entrance to your mother’s room only to hear lewd noises coming from inside.

He didn’t realize it at the time but that was when Joffrey was made.

The deeper he walked the more aggravated he became. Why was it so fucking hard to find you? It took him several failed attempts until he finally lightly pushed open the door to a room seeping with light. He peered in and saw you sleeping soundly on the bed, clutching a stuffed bear tightly to your chest. How cute, you were scared of the dark and slept with a bear, he thought to himself.

Aegon wasted no time welcoming himself inside and waltzing over to the side of the bed where you slept. He brushed a loc of your hair out of your face and admired how beautiful you looked, even while asleep. If he was totally honest, he could stay here and watch you sleep all night, but he had things he needed to do.

“Hey princess,” he spoke softly as he nudged your shoulder. Unlike him, you were an extremely light sleeper. You opened your eyes and they immediately shot wide open. You attempted to let out a scream at the intruder, but he swiftly shoved his hand onto your mouth. “Shhh! Shhh, it’s just me. It’s Aegon.”

Your face relaxed and you blinked your eyes a few times trying to decipher if this was a dream or reality. “Aegon,�� you murmured into the palm of his hand. “I’ll let go if you swear to be quiet. Promise?” You nodded your head and he slowly pulled back; a wide grin plastered over his face showcasing his perfectly even teeth. “Good morning, princess.”

You rubbed your eyes and peered over to the window. “It’s still nighttime…” you drawled into a yawn. “I know, it’s the only time you’re alone.” You sat up on your bed, “I’m sorry it’s just-” your words were stuck in your throat as he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face again. His eyes were completely memorizing, and he touched you with the gentleness only your mother did. “No need to be sorry, princess. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Y-yeah.” Aegon stood up off the floor and handed you a cloak he had balled up in his lap. You raised an eyebrow at him and pulled it towards. “You don’t ever get to leave right? Well, I leave all the time so I thought I could take you into the city for some fun.”

Your face lit up, you could finally leave and see what’s outside these dull walls. But there was an aching sensation at the back of your head. The sound of your mother's voice telling you what not to do. The fear of disappointing her was strong and the fear of potential punishment even stronger. “I- I can’t. My mother would be furious.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Besides, you wouldn’t want to make me cry, would you? I- I just thought you would want to spend time with me.” His blue eyes peered up at you with the same heart wrenching expression as the other day. It was manipulative, he knew but it worked every time. “I won’t tell anyone, " you said in a nervous whisper.

His frown quickly grew into a wide smile, flashing wolf life teeth. Aegon’s eyes had a mischievous glint behind him when he spoke, “good girl, put this on.” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine. A very subtle, almost unnoticeable feeling of butterflies filled your stomach. You blushed and nodded your head in agreement.

It didn’t take long for Aegon to grab your hand and whisk you far away from where you were meant to be. You clung to his arm as you both scurried through the dark corridors. The farther you went the smell of dust and cow dung intensified as did the conversation of city folk outside the walls.

The streets of King’s Landing were dirty but so much more alive than you ever thought they could be. It was the hour of the bat and yet the streets were bright with fires lit at every corner. The streets were crammed with people from all walks of life, travelers, merchants, witches, performers, whores, musicians, and knights. It was quite the spectacle for a young girl who had been confined to a castle.

Aegon was reveling in your excitement and awe, still blissfully unaware of the depravity that shrouded these streets. Your voice carried the joy only of someone as innocent to the world as you could possess. It was fucking magical how you gazed up at him like he was your savior.

To his surprise, you babbled about more than any girl he’d ever met. It should be annoying, but he was drowning in the presence of your voice and the way your fingers would squeeze his own when the topic turned to something that moved you. You had completely captured him with your accidental charm.

But as the night went on his original scheme drifted into the back of his like a distant memory. Aegon couldn’t take you where he wanted, you were too good for it. The prying eyes of others would probably send him into a blind rage anyway. It was already beginning to build as random passersby simply looked at you.

To avoid a possible murder or maiming he whisked you away to a final destination. Aegon told you people here eat, drink and play music here until the dawn rises. There were musicians and poets singing while people danced around them. Men and women were laughing and drowning themselves in what you presumed could only be wine. There were several dragon shaped lanterns that occasionally spewed fire lighting the corner of the world you reside in.

It was pretty spectacular in the eyes of a girl. But it was also the place where your inevitable downfall began. It started with a glass of ale, not wine, that Aegon offered you. It burned your throat as you swallowed it, whatever you had made him chuckle and use that nickname again. It inspired you to drink more and keep receiving soft praises from your uncle.

You could feel it flow through your body slowly warming your insides and sending a slight tingly sensation in your limbs. That’s when the music started to sound good enough to dance. You bounced around Aegon in possibly the worst showing of dance moves he’d ever seen. It was cute though, to him at least.

That’s when you decided to drink more and fully let go of whatever expectations of a princess rested in the back of your mind. One, two, three, you lost count after the first. Aeggy refused to dance but he occasionally twirled you around and let you hang onto his shoulders.

As time passed on so did any semblance of sobriety you had left. Your words were slurring together, and your movements became sloppy, the ability to stand was nearly completely lost. That’s when Aegon declared it was time to bring you home. At first, you tried to reject the idea and fight back, but your muscles were just as weak as your mind.

He lifted you and wrapped your legs around his waist so he could carry your little self-home. It was okay, at first being carried by Aegon. But then you began to feel his breath on your neck sending goosebumps through your body. The low whisper of his voice telling you sweet things echoing in the walls of your mind. Then came a new feeling between your legs when his lips brushed against your ears ever so slightly. Every sensation was heightened to a point it had never reached before.

It was a warm ache between your legs that kept getting worse the longer you were wrapped around him. You were worried, what if the wetness between your legs was your moonblood. How insanely embarrassing would that be if you bled on your uncle? You tried to untangle yourself, but he put two firm hands onto your waist and pulled you back in.

The sudden friction between your legs caused you to yelp, a quiet yelp that did not go unnoticed. He paused his steps, glancing at you avoiding his eyes then back at the street to the keep. His lips slowly curled into a smirk only he could wear so well. Aegon didn’t say anything the entire way back home, though a million things were racing through his mind.

The walk home was agonizing, every once in a while, he would move in a way that sent electricity from your core to the depths of your stomach. You didn’t even notice the tiny few whimpers that came from your throat, but he did. Oh, Aegon was noticing it all, every sound, every movement, every look, the warm feeling between your legs that was growing damp across his waist, and it was driving him mad.

He should have been a good little prince and placed you on your bed and left but he had never been a good prince. Aegon wanted to know how far he could take it before you melted beneath him. Obviously, like a good uncle he helped you undress into your night clothes since you were too drunk to do anything.

“Come on, princess. Time to lay down.” You begrudgingly threw yourself onto the bed and rolled onto your back. You couldn’t sleep, your undergarments were uncomfortably wet, and the ache continued to get worse. You obviously couldn’t tell him any of this, so you laid there, suffering.

Unexpectedly Aegon climbed into bed he was on top of you, his knee moved to press in between your legs and your eyes widened from their half-lidded state. “Are you okay, niece? You look… frustrated.” His face was plastered in fake concern, though you couldn’t tell. You clenched your legs together trying to prevent him from moving. “I-I’m fine,” Aegon moved his knee to rub against your core just once, your legs unconsciously tightened around him. “U-uncle,” you stuttered out in a near whimper.

“If there’s something wrong, I can help you…” He moved his knee into your core, and you bit down onto your lip trying to stifle the sound threatening to come out. Aegon, though a good actor could not hide the glint behind his eyes. He leaned into you, pulling your lip out from your teeth with thumb. “I can show you what helps me feel better.”

He whispered lowly, you didn’t have time to think, or reply before his lips were connecting to yours. The taste of sweet mead filling your mouth. You attempted to push him back, tell him no, this was wrong, and you could get in so much trouble. But the feeling of his legs between yours was easing whatever plagued you.

He slipped his tongue down your throat and entangled it with your own. The feeling of need was becoming too much so you moved your hips, finally. A soft moan forced itself out of your throat as you desperately tried to move against, aching for something you didn’t understand. A few tears slipped from your eye wetting his cheek.

Aegon chuckled into your mouth before pulling back, you whined at the loss of both his lips and his knee. The throbbing feeling between your legs became increasingly worse every second he wasn’t there. “It aches, doesn’t it?” Your face flushed red as your eyes bore into him, the true image of innocence laid out beneath him.

His hand traveled from your cheek to the hem of your dress bunched up at the ends of your thighs. Aegon slipped his hand underneath the fabric and hovered over your cunt. You grabbed his hand and stopped his movements, “N-no we can’t.” He cocked an eyebrow, “why not? You hurt and I’m the only one who can fix it.” Your grip on his hand slowly relented, “but i-it’s inappropriate.”

Aegon forced his hand forward so he could cup your cunt. It was completely soaked and so needy for release, how could he stop? “No, it’s not. I’m your uncle and it’s my job to take care of my sweet niece.” You bit your lip in contemplation, the feeling of his palm on your clit made you want to cry. It was too much, the feeling in your core was too much. “Please, Aeg.”

He crushed his lips into yours forcing all the breath out of your lungs. His fingers slid up and down your slit collecting your wetness on his finger. His other hand moved to palm your dress and pinch your nipples beneath your gown. Your moans threatened to echo throughout the keep but he swallowed each one with his lips.

Aegon forced one finger inside your cunt and immediately you clenched around him. Gods, you were so fucking tight he would have to force in the second. Your back arched as he moved his fingers to hit the spongy spot inside. The feeling of your core tightening was overwhelming, tears began to stream from your face and your nails dug into his shoulder.

Your hips moved unconsciously into his hand, pleading for release. His thumb moved to rubbed circles around your clit and all thoughts you had were dumbed down. “A-aeg!” You whimpered into his mouth; the coil tightening was overwhelming all of your senses. The sounds of his fingers pulling in and out of your dripping cunt were filling the room.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, princess.” His movements were faster, harsher and more desperate than before. “P-p-please,” you stuttered out in a loud moan as your legs began to clench around his hand. He growled, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. “Cum on my fingers, baby. That’s right, be a good fucking girl for your uncle.” His fingers curled up and pressed deep into the spongy spot inside you. You felt your cunt clench around him, your core tightening harder than before until the coil broke. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your body began to shake and the feeling of ecstasy washed over you.

You crashed, your legs twitching as he continued to move circles around your sensitive clit. Aegon pulled his fingers out and your body mourned the loss of him. He wiped his hand on his clothes and bent his head down to place kisses all over your face. “You did so good, princess.” He spoke in between the pecks he placed on your face.

“Aeg… I’m tired.” Your body was limp, and your eyes began to close on their own. “Shh, go to sleep, princess. I’ll clean you up.” And he did exactly what he said, surprisingly. He took the time out of his night to carefully clean up the mess he made on your body and clothes. It was pathetic to admit but at some point, he came in his trousers, and it was leaking out onto your clothes.

So, he had to change you. Aegon didn’t mind, watching you sleep so peacefully and taking care of his little angel was nice. Especially after what you had given him. He stayed the night, watching you sleep peacefully until the sun rose over the horizon and he scurried into his own room.

It became a horrible routine between the two of you. Aegon convinced you only he could make you feel that way, so you had to come to him if you wanted it. He would always visit at night, though most times you simply stayed inside. He touched you in places that were meant to be forbidden and you came undone beneath him… repeatedly.

You enjoyed him for more than that though. Unlike your brothers or other family, he was always there. Always teaching and showing you exciting new things, making you laugh constantly, showering you with affection you received from no one else. He worshiped you in his own way.

Aegon was completely addicted, and it was going to kill him eventually. If you weren’t awake when he came, he would just sit and watch you sleep, occasionally taking his place besides you. If you were awake, he craved your attention and your body… and he always got it. You were so kind and loving towards him, completely unaware of how others viewed him. You told him you loved him, were proud of him and he was a good man.

No one had ever said those words to him before. It’s why the addiction started and why it had no chance of ending soon. When he was upset you kissed him and whispered words of encouragement. You went out of your way to make him feel happy and deserving of the life he had. And it’s why, for a short time, his behavior started to improve drastically.

It shocked essentially everyone around him, especially his mother. For a moment she was almost proud, maybe her speeches finally got to him, and he was taking being a king seriously. That was before Aegon told her he was only behaving this way so he could prove to Rhaenyra, he deserved you. The situation caused a whole different type of stress for Alicent.

Things were looking up anyway. Especially since your mother had officially started letting you out on your own. You were now a teenager and had to learn some type of independence. The dragon pit was your favorite place even though your mount was a lazy bum.

Plus, you got to spend lots of time in the pit with your uncle and you got to watch him train with the other boys. Of course, a few people noticed the way you watched him and how he watched you. It was kept quiet, as far as anyone knew you had no relationship.

Aegon, thankfully, found enough self-control to not fuck you. To do enough to keep you attached to him but not enough to ruin your innocence completely. It was hard to explain how exactly he felt. It was like he needed you to breathe or eat or do anything. It was bordering on a very unhealthy obsession combined with genuine fondness.

It was new and it was perfect. He was no longer lost in this world with nothing to live for.

Until the day you abandoned him for Dragonstone. He cried, a pathetic and desperate display to his mother asking for her to keep you here. He pleaded for them to just allow you to be wed, he begged to let you stay as her ward. He made promises he probably couldn’t keep but tried, nonetheless.

All he got was sympathy, it was out of her hands completely. The king and his whore sister made the decision to forbid a marriage. They made the decision to let you be sent away to that desolate, rain filled, and droll island. To make it worse the gods decided to spite him and have him betrothed to his own sister.

He almost immediately got worse the second you boarded the ship. Aegon fell right back into his old habits of whoring, drinking and being a massive cunt. The shift was bound to happen so no one was surprised but it was becoming increasingly impossible to keep him under control. Everyone else fell back into their old habits of beating and berating him any chance they got…

Aegon only ever really felt happy again when he drifted off in his sleep. He could feel, touch, hear and smell you again in his dreams. For a few hours every night he was back in your room making stupid jests only you would laugh at. It was like heaven every time he closed his eyes… Then he woke up.

To ease his suffering, he fisted his cock while smelling the clothes you had left behind pretending it was you. If not that he would get drunk and imagine all the ways he could kill your mother and his so, he could steal you away. One day, he would take something from them that they truly loved so they could understand exactly how he felt. For now, he tormented Aemond and did everything in his power to piss his parents off.

Luckily for Aegon and those close to him, Laena Velaryon died in childbirth and his chance to be reunited came sooner than expected. The ride on Sunfyre was one of the best he’s had in ages. It was as if he could sense who they were seeing and was absorbing his rider's excitement. It seems important to mention Sunfyre has a fondness of your she-dragon who he may or may not have tried to breed on several occasions.

The funeral was fucking boring. He didn’t know anyone there and didn’t really care either. Aegon spent most of the time ignoring the speech and scanning the crowd for your little form. He didn’t find you, so he fled into a corner with his wine and brother close on his tail.

Your mother was stalking about staring at Daemon, Helaena was mumbling riddles to herself while playing with a bug, the bastards were comforting the Velaryons, and Aemond was on his left half asleep. Where in the seven hells was his little princess? As the sky began to cover itself in a shade of gray, he spotted you.

For a sliver of a second he was overjoyed, he dropped his wine and stood up straight preparing to walk over. The crowd began to dissipate and on your right was a young Velaryon boy with his arm wrapped around you showing off whatever was in his hands. His eye twitched and his firsts unconsciously bawled up til his knuckles turned white. Aemond peeked over and scoffed, “it’s a waste of time.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” Aemond rolled his eyes and slumped back into the wall. His obsession with the bastard was beyond him but everything his brother does is beyond him. Aegon spent the rest of his funeral staring daggers into the boys next to you. He was making you laugh and touching you far too much for his liking. Jealousy, rage, hate, hurt, Aegon couldn’t put a name to everything that was boiling inside his stomach, but it was too much. You hadn’t even fucking glanced in his direction the entire night.

It is rumored by the maesters later that night King Aegon took his first life by feeding an unsuspecting boy to his dragon. Others claim the boy simply drowned in the high tide that night and was washed away to sea. The body was never found so no one truly knows… Aemond, personally and wholeheartedly believed his brother pushed the boy into the water and let him sink. Driftmark no matter how you looked at it was a terrible night for all involved.

The hour of the bat, a time of night you learned to love dearly was now a time of loneliness. Dragonstone was incredibly terrible especially since your uncle was nowhere in those walls. You were severely depressed to say the very least. You knew he was coming today and wanted to seek him out but failed to find him.

It didn’t stop you from sneaking out at night in a very desperate search for him. It took around twenty minutes for you to weasel your way through Driftmark to his supposed chambers. You ran full force into Aemond on the way which made you both fall to the ground. He was going to try and claim that damned dragon you saw him watching her all day and you were going to reunite with your uncle-lover. Both of you would be in the deepest shit known to man if anyone found out.

So, a silent pact was made to tell no one where either was going. You knew it was a real deal because he helped you off the floor and nodded his head in the direction of the room you were trying to find. ‘Good luck,’ you whispered quietly as you both scurried off in opposite directions.

Much to your dismay he was passed out drunk. You had to literally shake him awake. “Aeg… Aegon!” You climbed on top of him and shook his shoulders. He moaned, groaned, tried to push you away but you were determined. “Wake up! We don’t have all night.” You swore you saw his ears perk up like a dog. His eyes opened and he shot up in bed nearly knocking you off.

“You!” He grabbed ahold of your face, squishing your cheeks in his hands. “Yes, it’s me! Where the hell have you been all day?” Aegon looked offended and almost betrayed, “where have I been? Watching you swoon over some Velaryon cunt.” You scoffed, “watching me? I looked for you all day! I had to give up and talk to a cousin I barely knew.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, “if you barely knew him then why was he all over you?” You grabbed his face, “if you paid any attention, I was trying to escape him the entire time.” Hm, he could have been blinded by jealousy and didn’t notice you politely backing away and avoiding the kid’s eyes completely. He thought you were acting shy and coy, but this made sense.

“You still love me?” He did this more often while drunk. If he ever felt insecure his blue eyes would turn pale and start to water. His lips puffed out slightly and he bore into your soul begging for consolation. You knew the quickest way to make his fears go away.

You pressed a kiss on his lips, trying to drink away all of his fears. Aegon pulled your face as close as possible, sucking all the air from your lungs. Your lips danced around each other passionately trying to make up for the time apart.

“I still love you, Aeggy.” You murmured into his lips; a faint grin formed on his mouth. With his eyes half lidded he whispered, “prove it to everyone then.” You chuckled softly; a soft look of confusion plastered on your features. “How do we do that?” His hands slipped down to your waist, then to your thighs rubbing them slightly. “Give me all of you before they take you away.”

There was a deafening pause in both of your movements. The amount of trouble you would both get into would be life altering. Losing your maidenhood to someone who you weren’t wed to was a sin, a crime even. “So, you don’t really love me. You don’t even trust me enough with yourself.”

It felt like a sword was plunged through your heart. Of course, you loved him. Of course, you wanted to give him everything. “T-that’s not-” he released his hold on your thighs and ripped his face away from yours. “Get out.” You grabbed his hands and tried to pull them back to you, “Aegon please this isn’t-” His eyes turned dark, his hands were ripped out of your grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You used me and now you’re discarding me just like everyone else.”

Tears began to prickle at the corner of your eyes. You never ever used him; you loved him with all your heart. There was never another person who made you feel the same way he did. “Please, I love you,” your lips trembled while you spoke. “I don’t love you.”

You shook your head no, no, no, no, no, your entire world came crashing down at once. The sword in your heart ripped it in half. Your breath quickened and your arms began to shake. The tears that threatened to fall came pouring out of your eyes. “Please- pleas- I love you- please- you can have it- anything you want please don’t leave me.” Your cries were near incoherent.

He was evil, this was the absolute proof of it. Aegon knew he was lying to have you; he knew exactly what hold he had over you and did it anyway. You just couldn’t understand, if he took your maidenhead, you could be together forever. He wasn’t just doing this for himself, it was for both of your sakes. It was blisteringly obvious he would never stop loving you.

“Shh, don’t cry, I’m sorry.” He pulled you into his chest and combed his slender fingers through your hair. “We’re going to be together forever, okay? I'm never leaving you.” He lifted your chin up so you were looking at him. Even when you cried you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. “Let me show you how much I love you.” You nodded your head desperately.

It took minutes before you were laid out flat on the bed. He lifted your legs over his shoulders and buried his tongue inside your core. It was new and the pleasure was radiating throughout your body faster than before. Aegon swirled his tongue in circle around your clit as he brutally fucked you with his fingers.

Your hips bucked up to meet his face and he growled a response. The vibrations sent waves of heat through your veins. Your thighs clenched around his head as your orgasm began to wash over you, far quicker than ever before. You cried out at the feeling of the coil coming undone in your stomach. You could feel his lips form into a smile, he placed kisses onto your sensitive clit causing you to whimper. It wasn’t over, he had just started.

Aegon pulled away and you whined at the loss of his heat on top of you. Then you heard the sound of his trousers being pulled off, you looked away out of politeness. “Don’t be shy, baby. It’s all yours.” You pulled your head off of the pillow and your eyes widened. Aegon was thick, incredibly thick and you couldn’t imagine how that was going to fit inside you.

His tip was a bruising pink, and you could see his seed already beginning to leak out. It looked painfully hard as his veins popped out. He climbed on top of you without a moment's notice and rubbed himself against your dripping slit. “Aegon,” you whined as he teased your entrance.

Aegon leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. He prodded your entrance, “just be a good girl for me. It will only hurt for a second, I promise.” You tried to open your mouth to reply but an incredibly loud scream escaped your lips as he slowly began forcing himself inside. “Gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned under his breath.

The sensation of being filled to the brim made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Aegon moved painfully slowly, thrusting himself in and out of you. You moaned incoherently as his tip pushed into that spot inside of you. What started out as pain was quickly turning into pleasure.

You wanted him deeper inside you, you needed him to fill you completely. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pulled him into you. He moaned as your cunt swallowed his length entirely. “So needy for my cock, princess.” You whimpered breathlessly underneath him, “please Aegon.” He moved his hand to cup your face, so you were staring at him. Your eyes were blown out in desire and your face was flushed a deep shade of red.

It was as if Aphrodite was underneath him begging for him to fuck her. “That’s a good girl begging for me.” His thrusts started to become faster, and your mind began going numb. Your cunt clenched around him as your eyes welled with tears. “Yes! uncle, please. Please!” You stuttered between moans and whimpers.

His lips crashed into yours stifling your moans as he forced himself deeper inside you at a bruising pace. His cock pounded against your cervix and not even his lips could fully swallow your moans. You wrapped your arms around his neck and dug your fingers into his shoulders. “Fuck baby, you’re so perfect for me.” Aegon’s praise made you whimper for more.

His cock was throbbing inside you, his seed threatening to spill at any moment. “My good girl,” he moaned into your ear, putting emphasis on ‘my’. Your entire body was going limp beneath him. The friction of his skin rubbing against your clit caused you to start coming undone.

“Aeg- aegon- please cum for me.” He never expected those words to pour from your mouth like a carefully constructed melody. Aegon dipped his head into the crook of your neck and began to whine as you clenched around him. As your core began to tighten you moaned a symphony, “I love you, I love you, I love you-”

Aegon picked up his pace, brutally fucking you with every ounce of energy he had. You felt the heat in your core turn into a fire as ecstasy started to wash over you. Your cunt clenching hard trying to drain every ounce of him.

The door slammed open “My Prince! It’s urgent-” Both of your heads shot to the entrance, staring at the mortified king’s guard whose eyes were boring into you. Oh, you were completely fucked.

Silence, the walk to the grand hall of Driftmark was completely silent. The guard behind you refusing to make eye contact with either of you. You could barely walk straight; your body was sore, and wetness was dripping down your legs.

All you could do right now was pray to the gods he didn’t snitch. Your hair was a mess, sweat was glistening on your faces, your night clothes were a mess, Aegon probably had your juices still on him, your cheeks were flushed a bright red and your lips were bruised… you were done for.

Although, as you entered the hall you noticed everyone else looked far worse than you. You noticed your brother’s bloody faces first and rushed over to them. Aegon immediately wanted to die the second you left his side. He wasn’t concerned at all; this was meant to be found out about.

Except, why now of all fucking nights. His brother had been maimed by your bastard brothers and his mother was in a frenzy. All he could do was stare at him in shock, the feeling of guilt washing over him. Aegon should have been there for Aemond, he should have saved him.

He glanced at you and your brothers were looking at you in disgust. Even when you reached out to comfort them, they pushed you away. Bastards, vile disgusting bastards.

It only got worse from there. Your mother came rushing in, obviously after fucking her uncle. He wanted to laugh, like mother like daughter. His mother was frantic demanding for justice, Rhaenyra screeching bullshit and you tucking yourself behind everyone.

Then the question was asked. “Aegon! Where were you?!” He didn’t even get a chance to reply before the king’s guard swooped in to make matters worse. “He was in his room, your grace… with the princess.” His head nodded towards you, and you looked absolutely mortified.

He should have waited to take it, he should have never made you do anything. Everyone in the room stared at you, just you. It took mere seconds for Rhaenyra to see exactly what had happened, only fueling her fury. Alicent, on the other hand, looked even more upset. The slap she so harshly laid across his face echoed throughout the room, completely silencing it.

There would be no justice since he had chosen the perfect day to defile the king’s favorite grandchild and his sister’s favorite child. You should hate him; you should want him dead. “Who told you these lies boy?” His father’s voice was filled with venom. “Aegon.” His father’s eyes turned dark as he tried to limp his way over to him.

“That’s not true! I told him… both of them.” A soft, quiet voice from the other side of the room caught everyone’s attention. You were defending him against the wrath of your family when he had just quite possibly ruined your reputation. If his obsession was bad, then it definitely got a thousand times worse at that moment.

Everything that happened after that was a complete blur. Insults were thrown, threats were laid out, his mother pulled a knife on his sister, and you fled the scene with your head down. It was like a fucking fever dream that didn’t seem to end.

It got worse the next day. The verbal assault he received from his mother was one for the history books. As was the slap that turned into a giant bruise on his cheek. Aegon was absolutely banished from ever talking, touching, or breathing near you. Any attempt at reaching out would immediately be cut down. His father said nothing of it, probably realizing his mistake in not wedding you sooner. Even Aemond, who should have despised him, forgave him.

It didn’t matter what they thought, he loved you, he wanted you, he needed you, and he was going to fucking have you. Aegon realized several things that night. You needed to be saved from your family as quickly as possible. The bastards and his whore sister needed to die sooner than late. Lastly, he was going to become king no matter what he did.

You were forbidden from ever speaking to Aegon again. It was awkward to say the least when you had to tell your mother everything. She should have been mad, hit you, yelled at you but she only hugged you when you cried. Your mother knew you didn’t tell anyone you were bastards. She knew you wouldn’t lose your maidenhead unless you truly believe they loved you. However, it was a secret that you could never ever tell anyone else.

You can never repeat what you said that night, but it was okay, you only wanted to protect who you loved. She explained how Aegon was taking advantage of you and men lie to get what they want. They prey on innocent girls, pretend to love them to get what they want, then discard them. Your mother repeatedly told you it wasn't your fault for your kind heart. She stated it was her own failure for not protecting you from it.

You didn’t truly believe it was all lies, at least, not all of it. It didn’t really matter now, he was gone forever, and you were alone on Driftmark.

Until you and your family would have to return to King’s Landing, five years later.

#aegon targaryen #dark aegon targaryen #yandere aegon targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon angst #aegon fluff #aegon smut #aegon fic #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii fic #hotd fic #aegon ii angst

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floatyflowers · 2 years

Text

The Adopted Princess| Dark! Targaryen and Velaryon Boys x Reader (Aegon II, Aemond, Jacaerys, Lucerys)

Masterlist

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Finale Part

Character: Rhaeger Targaryen

Character: Rhaeger's Mother

Summary:

Rhaenyra Targaryen decides to take you in as her daughter after she finds you, abandoned, near her castle.

You seem to catch the attention of the Targaryen and Velaryon boys as you grow older.

#tw: toxic relationships #house of the dragon #aegon iii targaryen #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #yandere house of the dragon #dark #reader insert #Aegon II x reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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arcielee · 9 months

Text

dōna mandia

Summary: Her brothers convince her to play a game of hide-and-seek. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader Word Count: 4085 WARNINGS/THIS IS A DARK FIC: Targcest, with she/her pronouns, MDNI, 18+ Dubcon, inexperience, fingering, implied sexual themes, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, anal, double penetration, rough sex. Author's Note: Thank you @hamatoanne for being my muse and inspiring this depravity. Thank you to @sylas-the-grim for beta reading and perfecting. And a huge thank you to @aemonds-fire for helping me with my Tumblr settings that had me ripping my hair out. 💜 Anyway, this is what you wanted from this poll. I hope you are all happy with yourselves. 😂

Valyrian translations: mēre, lanta, hāre is one, two, three dōna mandia is sweet sister

Tumblr kindred spirits: @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii

“Come, sweet sister,” Aegon whispered into the shell of her ear. She felt the warmth of his palms through the layers of silk worn, her robe and her nightgown, with his intimate touch to her lower back to guide her.

She paused for a moment and peered back at her twin. Aemond had covered his one eye, his sapphire glinting from the lighting of the room as his timbre rumbled the numbers off in Old Valyria. “Mēre,” he began, with a slight curl to his lips.

“With me,” Aegon urged, his other hand interlacing with her own to pull, and she could not help the giggle that slipped from her lips as she followed him.

Aemond continued behind them, a low echo against the cobblestone. “...lanta…hāre…”

It was childish, she supposed, but welcomed after the somber family meal earlier this evening. Her brothers then stole away to her chambers, the mischievous grin paired with the suggestion from Aegon that they play hide-and-seek, as they had as children.

But that had been a lifetime ago, long before the internal warfare of the House of the Dragon inevitably spilled its destruction across Westeros.

Her brothers, Daeron as well, had all fought valiantly and victory was had–but at what cost, she often wondered. Rhaenyra was dead, along with their uncle and nephews, and their dragons as well. The smaller children, the ones with the blood of Old Valyria apparent in their veins, had been sent to Old Town with the assurance to raise them with the absolute truth of what happened.

But she knew that the truth would be written by the victors.

Their grandsire served as Lord Hand still, an advocate to reinstate the peace disrupted. This burden shifted on her and her siblings, as Aegon was now king without question, and now the sole focus was to mend the rift between realms, a new age of serenity with his reign. As part of this, their grandsire announced her betrothal to a Northern house, as if she were an olive branch to be extended to the perpetual snow to never be retrieved.

Her pain was written plainly on her lovely features, but their grandsire spoke his words with a sense of finality; it seemed to be no hope to dissuade his mind.

This was how her brothers found her–“Sulking prettily,” Aegon cooed as her handmaiden finished braiding her silver tresses back, dressed already in a pale silk and ready for bed.

Once they were alone, Aegon had brought up this childhood game. What had convinced her, though, was when her twin, Aemond, who was the personified reason knitted amongst them all, seemed almost akin to the idea. His perpetual smirk played at his lips when he offered to be the seeker first.

And now she padded softly along to keep pace with Aegon, breathless, almost gleeful, as they tore through the empty corridors, hands held as they weaved through the silent castle before coming to a door she recognized all too well.

“This is Aemond’s room,” and her voice trailed off with its uncertainty.

Aegon returned his hand to her lower back, his other now grasping onto her forearm. There was a darkness that flickered over his features, but his smirk was quick to brighten, an emotion gone with a heartbeat before she could even register. A coaxing whisper to guide her across the threshold: “This is the one place he would not think us to go.”

It was a room she knew with an intimate familiarity, with an ingress that connected and weaved through the walls, leading back to her own. When they were children, Aemond often would slip into her bed at night, her honeyed tones to soothe him to sleep, and when he had lost his eye, she would go visit with him and listen while Vhagar’s roars reverberated throughout the Keep.

It was tidy, as always, maintained and meticulous, which suited her twin. His musk lingered over, something that was so uniquely his own: the hint of smoke with leather, his skin scrubbed clean with the bath oils gifted from Dorne, the amber and the ash.

It was something that held onto her clothes whenever she would return to her room in the early mornings.

Now, she followed Aegon with timid steps as he moved towards the wardrobe further back, standing tall and solid. He opened to be greeted with the smell of Aemond, mixed with the cedar chips placed to keep the moths away. He then stepped in first, turning to reach for her once he realized her hesitation rooted her to the cobblestone; his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her in, closing the door behind.

It was dark, save the crack between the paneled doors that allowed the bit of golden light from the hearth and the tapers still lit to spill in. Aegon nestled against her, a warmth emitting from him, and her backside flushed against his chest. His one hand moved to her hip while the other began to draw soothing circles against her stomach, an almost tingling sensation through her silk.

She squirmed slightly, an inadvertent hum from his touch; the close proximity and his clashing scent–a soothing mixture of lavender and tea tree oil–caught her breath in her throat. She blushed, her hand fumbling on top of his own, so small in comparison, and he pressed the imprint of his palm to her stomach, the other gripping into her hip bone.

She shivered from his hold, from the warmth that began to pool between her thighs. “Aegon,” she breathed.

He moved to place his hand over her mouth. “Quiet, sister,” and his chin pressed onto her shoulder, his hot whisper tickled with his low baritone and his hold tightened around her waist.

She paused, alert for an indication that Aemond had finally come to the room to find them, but there was only a heavy silence punctuated by the crackle from the fireplace. Aegon burned against her, a pillar of warmth that settled over like a fog, thick with the quiet, almost suffocating in the enclosed space. His hold on her hip loosened and his hand began to trail the flow of silk to the soft divot between her thighs, his fingers moving to trace the outline of her cunt against the thin material.

“Sister,” his tone was dark, but she felt the curl of his lips against her ear. “You are bare beneath this.”

Only his hold on her mouth kept her from reminding him that she had meant to go to bed, but instead she had been caught up in this insipid game–but the thought choked on the fog from his continued motion. His fingers deftly found her slit and he dragged his center digit upwards between, a featherlight touch that seemed to scorch through the length of her spine. She moaned, soft and muted, against his palm.

“Pull up your skirt,” he hissed, moving to cup her cunt fully.

She jolted from his touch, scrambling to bunch the fabric around her hips; the air was cool against her thighs and the wetness between.

Aegon groaned against her skin. “So wet for me, sweet sister,” and he pulled her closer, grinding against her backside, his defined hardness pressing into the softness of her arse.

She mewled and it was muffled still, drawing a dark chuckle of satisfaction from Aegon. “You like that?” and he repeated the movement, his fingers now spreading her silken folds and the silver hair that lined them. “If I remove my hand, will you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?”

His hold only relaxed with the frantic bob of her head and his hand moved to push aside her braid to allow his tongue to run the column of her neck to behind her ear, almost panting against her skin. She shuddered against him. “So soft,” and her skin prickled with the low rumble of his praise, “so wet,” and his one finger curled within, searching until she began to melt, arching against him with a desperation to feel the friction again, his length hard and heavy against.

She pressed backwards and Aegon drew a sharp intake of air before he tilted his chin, his teeth sinking into the junction of her neck, suckling until she left out a small whine, “–Aegon.”

“Quiet,” he hissed again before returning his focus to the curl of his fingers within her velvet walls, to the movement of his hips grinding against. His touch was practiced, precise, and he was now knuckle deep, which allowed the ridge of his palm enough pressure that further ignited the coiled passion building in her lower abdomen.

She gasped with each stroke as he continued his simultaneous ministrations, the mixture of his kisses and nibbles on the curve of her neck, the love bites that would linger but right now brought her to the precipice of something she had never felt before–

–and the doors swung open, where Aemond stood, arms wide, his hair disheveled and his expression unreadable.

Her eyes widened, burning from her embarrassment, burning from her release; she tried to close her thighs, but Aegon pulled it from her, against her own volition and with a startled cry. She trembled from her peak, the flush of color that spilled from her cheeks, to her neck and to her chest, her nipples pressing against the silk and her chest heaving with her labored breath.

Aegon wore his smug satisfaction, pressing a soft kiss to her neck and his eyes never leaving Aemond.

But his sharp features seemed unsurprised by the spectacle. “You are insatiable, brother,” and he grabbed her, pulling her from the confines of the wardrobe. “Your impatience knows no end.”

The silk spilled to cover her leaden legs, her steps staggered but he was quick to catch her. His large palms held her steady, to meet with his bicolor gaze; his sapphire gleamed and his lavender eye trailed her curves, almost admiring. He then dragged her towards the bed, pushing her backwards against it.

“Oh, but I have only prepared her for you,” Aegon continued as he stepped out, his silver hair mussed and his satisfaction bold on his features as he licked his fingers clean.

She wished her voice to not sound so childish with her question. “P-prepare me?”

Aegon tutted condescendingly. “Just as we did with Helaena, and she took us both so well,” he grinned, relishing in the new flush of color that stained her cheeks with the implication of his tone. “You cannot truly believe we would ever allow you to be off to some Northern house as a prize?”

Her heart fluttered with hope, like a captured bird against its cage, and her fingers pressing into the mattress to hold herself upright to look back at Aemond. He stepped closer to touch her, his hand large and warm, his slender fingers sliding to hold the back of her neck, to hold her attention. “I would never allow that,” he vowed, and then he pulled her to stand again.

She had always considered her twin to be handsome, as breathtaking as the sapphire stone he had placed in his scarred socket. It was his melancholy mien that called to her heart; there was a severity that lined his features, that sharpened as the years passed and chiseled away at the remains of his boyhood. After the war was won, she often wondered, she hoped, that she would be given to him, as Helaena had been given to Aegon…

Her eyelashes fluttered when she looked up at him, warming from the close proximity. “Aemond…”

“Trust me,” and Aemond pressed closer.

It was her first kiss and it swept the air from her lungs, his mouth soft and warm and wanting against her own. A soft moan spilled from her and his tongue curled against her own, his gradual pace to allow her time to taste, to allow her own want to begin rekindling within.

Her hands trembled when they reached for his collar, pulling him closer, and he hummed his satisfaction, a vibration throughout; his arm wrapped around the small of her waist, a guiding press back against the bed edge. Her layers of silk were disrobed and puddled on the cobblestone, a heat radiating from her bareness now shown to Aemond and she saw how his pupil swallowed the color of his eye.

Aemond discarded his tunic, his long and lithe form decorated with scars from the Dance of the Dragons, bold colors with some fading to silver. He pressed between her plush thighs, his slender fingers now digging into their softness for hold, pulling her towards the edge until her cunt pressed against the bulge of his trousers.

Another moan spilled from her kiss-swollen lips from the clothed pressure, and Aemond dipped forward, the soft tickle of his silver hair against her skin and his lips trailing the curve of her jaw with an open mouth kiss to the soft divot beneath her ear.

“Lay back on the bed,” was his breathless command.

She trembled to move herself but paused when her eyes darted back to see Aegon in the shadows, still standing, still watching rapt. His tunic was now untucked and showed off the hard peaks of his chest beneath, his hand dipping past his waistline with a slow palming of the length of his shaft, with wine stained blotches on his cheeks.

Aemond captured her mouth, pushing her back onto the bed, his kiss searing with his desperation, his hunger, with the clash of teeth and his tongue curling against the roof of her mouth. She panted, flustered from the attention, flustered with the echo of Aegon’s words–she took us both so well. Even then, plumes of pink bloomed on her pale skin as his kiss stoke the embers of her passion. “Aemond,” she breathed him in, her head light.

He hummed against her neck, moving lower so his mouth could appreciate her curves. He paused at her chest, his tongue flickering over the peaks of her nipples before trailing lower to the soft of her stomach with hot, wet kisses moving towards her core.

She sighed, she squirmed with each placed kiss and as he nestled between, his breath warm against the glisten from her first climax, and her arousal from his touches.

“She tastes so sweet, brother,” Aegon rasped.

Aemond hummed against her cunt, his fingers soft to touch, his lips pressing an intimate kiss to the bloom above her entrance. She arched her back with a sharp cry, sensitive still, and he pinched her thigh.

“Dōna mandia,” his husky tone sent bolts up her spine. “Be quiet.”

Her hands clamped over her mouth as he began to lap the bundle of nerves discovered this night, and he drank her essence unabashedly. His fingers curled within, his touch somewhat similar to Aegon’s but thoughtful, searching until he felt the beginning flutter of her walls. There was the sinful squelch of her wet cunt and she let out a choked sound against her palm, the threat of tears pearling in her eyes–

Then he stopped.

She let out a whine and pushed to her elbows, the flush of rose that tinged her intimately in all the right places, the rise and fall of her chest and her nipples still peaked with her denied pleasure. Aemond watched her, removing his trousers, the hint of satisfaction fleeting with how her eyes widened at the sight of him bare; he then moved to the cradle of her hips, his head dipping with the glisten on his lips and chin, an unfamiliar taste with his sweet kiss.

Aemond pressed against her, hot and heavy. “Sweet sister,” and he sounded apologetic. “This will hurt.”

Once again a hand clamped over her mouth, halting her gasp as he lined to press against her entrance. Aemond groaned into her neck with his gentle thrusts that burned, that stretched as he pushed into her and she writhed pitifully beneath him, the tears now spilling with her muffled sob.

“I know, I know,” his low tone was soothing, his breath tickling the curve of her neck as he continued the slow rut of his hips against her, his hold relaxing for a chaste kiss.

She gasped against his mouth. The burn, the ache dimming with his each thrust and she felt the blossom of a newer sensation that began to trickle through her veins, a coiling passion as he filled her; It was something deeper than neither his hands of Aegon’s reached before. She shuddered against him, her cheeks wet and her fingers curling into his slim hips, his pace rhythmic to her internal flutter pulling her towards an edge.

She let out a soft cry: “Aemond.”

His lips curled and he praised her. “Yes, just like that,” his pace continued, unrelenting. She felt her muscles clenching, spasming with the bloom of her climax spilling through, her sweet moans mixing with his sharp intake of air through his clenched teeth. Aemond stilled his hips, savoring how she shuddered beneath him, her rapid heartbeat and wet eyes that watched him intently.

A whine cut through them both. “Aemond,” and only then did they remember Aegon.

She felt empty when Aemond pulled away, her cresting pleasure fading. The bed dipped as he shifted, his large hands now moving her, coaxing her onto her hands and knees so she now faced the edge of the bed to watch as Aegon moved closer.

He had shed the last of his clothes, his swaggered step that showed his length, his girth, that hung heavy between his thighs. His touch felt clammy against her skin, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back to meet with the glitter of his lilac eyes. “Will you return me the favor?” he mused, his thumb pressing to her lower lip.

Her older brother always held a haunted beauty about him. There were splotches of wine stains, bold on his porcelain skin, and something almost sinister that brimmed beneath the dark shadows that framed his lovely eyes. Aegon watched her, his digit stroking underneath her chin as he watched for her to acknowledge his words.

Behind her, the bed dipped again as her twin moved to place his hands on her hips. Her grip balled into the linen, to try and hold her trembling still; he dragged the tip of his cock through her folds to coat himself in her release, allowing an easier glide as he sheathed back into her cunt; his groan reverberated throughout them both.

She shuddered and felt Aegon squeeze her jaw, looking up at him through the new tears that clung to her eyelashes. “Open your mouth,” was his low command, his hand wrapping around his base and pressing his swollen cockhead to her lips.

It was a tentative taste before she opened to take him bit by bit. “Watch your teeth,” and she widened her jaw, her tongue flattening against the underside of him. “Yes, good girl,” Aegon hissed, his head tilting back.

She gagged when Aemond slammed into her, his hip bones digging into the softness of her arse–this new angle choked a moan from her, and its vibration had Aegon almost giggling. His fingers combed through her silver hair that spilled from the braid, holding her head as he now bucked his hips into her mouth. She gagged again, hollowing her cheeks, saliva spilling from the corners of her mouth and dripping down the sides.

The brothers were in tandem, the brutal pace of her twin and the sensual pull of her hair by Aegon and his large hands. She trembled as she tried her best to balance on one hand, her other trying to wrap around the last bit of Aegon she could not swallow, flushed from the lack of oxygen and her muscles tensing again.

Then it stopped, the satisfying pop as Aegon removed himself from her mouth, an emptiness as Aemond pulled away. She wished to melt into the sheets, but felt hands pulled to straddle the slender waist of Aemond, who was now splayed against the pillows, the flush of color bright on his sharp features. She saw his erection pressed up against his stomach, a glossy sheen of her arousal coating him.

She sighed from his touch, lifting her hips with a soft mewl as he dragged his tip through her silken folds again, allowing her to slowly sink on top with her soft cries. He bucked beneath her, a slow pace to fill and it plumed new pleasure that sparked at her spine, fluttering throughout. Her nipples were rosy and pebbled, her small hands bracing against his chest with the imprint of of red, half-crescent moons littering on his skin.

Aemond moved his hands to cradle her lower back and pulled her forward until she was flushed against his chest. He captured her lips with a renewed fervor, biting her bottom lip, and she whimpered mercifully against his mouth. He broke away and she buried into his neck with a soft kiss, while Aemond gave a silent gesture to Aegon, who retrieved a small vial and palmed himself as he continued watching them.

“You wish to make me feel as good as I made you,” Aegon asked and the bed sank as he climbed onto it, “isn’t that right, sweet sister?”

She twisted to face him, an unintelligible moan to reply as Aemond continued his languid pace beneath her. Her eyes were glassy, soft noises spilling, and there was a movement of silver when she nodded her head.

Aegon hummed with a curl of his lips, moving behind her, pouring more from the vial into his palm. Aemond reached to find her lips again, tightening his hold as she jerked from Aegon’s touch. He made a soothing sound and she relaxed as he slowly circled her rim, a genial coat of oil, so tender it almost tickled.

It stopped and her trepidation fluttered her spine as his thick head pressed against her hole, a searing burn that speared the base as he began to push until he was fully sheathed and flushed against her ass. She trembled and Aegon let out a low groan as he leaned over her, a soft bite and kiss to her shoulder blade. “So tight,” he gasped.

Aemond had stilled his hips, swallowing her cries with his kiss, and only pulling back to lick her tears, his soothing words muted from the roar of blood that was rushing to her ears. He continued to sing small praises while Aegon moved agonizingly slow, his thrusts eventually coaxing a heat in her lower back that began to spread and press to her seams.

Aemond cupped her face to reclaim her attention, her breathy moans fanning his cheeks and her fist knotting into the linen as she shuddered against his chest. He moved his warm palms to her sides, slowly rolling his hips at an alternating pace with Aegon.

The fullness from their hungry, cyclical pace continued the crescendo building in her lower abdomen. It came with sparks of white that flashed before her eyes, the release of that coiled passion flushing her skin with their rhythm. Her tension snapped, painfully, pleasurable, sharing her bones beneath and leaving her weightless with a sobbed release.

She shuddered from the crests of pleasure that continued to crash against her, feeling Aegon’s hips stuttering with his own peak before pulling out his softening cock. And then Aemond gripped into her hips, a biting hold as he rutted upwards to chase after the high, his cock pulsing inside her velvet walls and her lips parting with a wordless cry.

She then crumpled against her twin and he moved her carefully to the side. She was breathless and could feel their pearly seed spilling from her holes and seeping into the linen. Aegon was first to move, to dress and leave the room, but Aemond took a moment, washcloths rung to wipe her clean, taking the time to blow softly on her skin and watch it ripple with gooseflesh.

When he finally finished, he crawled beneath the covers and pulled her against his chest; she sighed as she melted against him, her fingers moving to play with the silver strands of his hair. Her lips pursed a moment. “What do we do now, brother?”

His fingertips stemmed pleasantly against her ribs and she flushed from the vibration of his low hum. “I intend to speak to the Lord Hand tomorrow about making you my wife,” he said as if it was already decided.

Her tongue wet her lips. “What if he is adamant to send me to the North?”

His grin was almost wicked. “Then I will parade these corridors with these very sheets to show you are no longer a maiden,” and he pushed her as she giggled, rolling her onto her back and enjoying the natural spill of her breasts; his narrow waist knitted between her thighs and she sighed, feeling him pressed against the inside of her thigh, heavy and ready once again.

Aemond captured her mouth and his kiss heated her cheeks. He stopped a moment, his tone dark and heady, “I will not be denied. Iksā ñuhon, dōna mandia.”

You are mine, sweet sister.

#hotd au fanfic #dark!aegon targaryen #dark!aemond targaryen #aegon x ofc #aemond x ofc #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #updated

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squirmhoney · 14 days

Text

HoD porn links - 2

warning: 18+ only. these are twitter links that contain porn videos. these are not fics. Mentions of non con, dub con, somnophilia and incest.

navigation // house of dragon master list // No.1

Aegon Targaryen

Waking up to uncle!Aegon fucking you

Slipping it in when he knows he isn't supposed to but brother!Aegon gets carried away

Vacation days where cousin!Aegon uses you in his freetime

Literally being used as his cum dump

Aegon wants you whenever and wherever

Fucking you till your numb

Perv Aegon whispering profanities while you get off on it

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond punishing you with overstimulation

Gamer Aemond takes his anger out on his niece

After being too mean uncle! Aemond wants to show you he cares

Literally it is his favourite meal

Fucking you in his clothes

Risking it with cousin reader in your dad's kitchen

#aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark fic #hotd fanfic #Aemond x reader x aegon #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #dark!aegon x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aemond targaryen smut

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underhousearrestblog · 1 year

Text

Shameless | A.T.

(summary) you’re tipsy and accidentally mistake Aemond for Aegon... Aemond doesn’t mind at all...

(warnings) non-con due to Aemond pretending to be a different person and not securing your consent (reader, although drunk, “consents” to Aegon, not Aemond), a bit dark, marriage-trapping someone

(warnings) if swear words offend you, we might have a problem here...

(pairings) Aemond Targaryen x reader (main; romantic), Aegon Targaryen x reader (platonic; fuck-buddy vibes)

(genre) room-temperature smut, one-sided pining

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(word count) 5.1k

(also) reader is Rhaenyra’s child... so Aemond’s niece...

(also) DRUNK CONSENT IS NOT CONSENT, FOLKS. THIS IS DARK FICTION SO BEWARE!

HAPPY READING!

Stupid fucking loser, Aemond’s hand clenched into a fist under the table. Take your hand off before I break it off!

Right in front of him, right across the table, Aegon had you smiling at him affectionately. His right hand was resting casually on the back of your chair, dangerously close to your neck. From Aemond’s place, he could see his brother’s fingers lightly stroking strands of your hair.

You had leaned in closer towards Aegon, as he half-drunk told you something you seemed to be way too interested.

Bullshit, Aemond thought to himself, that loser couldn’t string along an interesting story to save his life...

You just wanted to fuck him.

Was it better that you actually didn’t find his brother interesting or funny, that you just appeased him to get him into your bed? Was it worse that you wanted to sleep with the bastard?

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he tried to find your motivation for this absurdity. There was no way Aegon had rumors going around about him being good in bed. He was known to be a sloppy, drunk, selfish fuck who wouldn’t give two shits about your pleasure. His brother had no charm... Were you trying to make him fall in love with you? Make him marry you?

That had to be it. There was no other logical explanation. No way you craved some drunk when there were men begging on their knees for you attention, men begging on their knees for you to pick them and allow them the pleasure of your company.

He would.

Aemond.

He would beg you on his knees to allow showing you all the ways he wanted to worship you.

But you didn’t see him. Ever since your mother, Rhaenyra, had brought and left you here, you hadn’t even looked at him twice. Not when the great Aegon “Cant’t-Fight-For-Shit” Targaryen was standing right beside him.

After his mother had introduced you to everybody, Aemond had already taken a step forward to introduced himself separately when his stupid, good-for-nothing brother had thrown out a half-conscious joke about him teaching you to drink ‘cause that’s all he’s good at. You laughed. Aegon was pleased and had given you a rare smile. Nobody else mattered, and Aemond had stepped back, watching Aegon snatching your attention.

Somehow both of you got along. It was as bewildering as it was annoying. His mother was very much pleased, and Aegon seemed to be more... neutral.

Was it wrong for Aemond to be okay with his brother falling back into bad habits and addiction if that meant that you no longer spend any time with him?

He looked away from both of you, unable to watch any longer without launching any utensil available at his brother’s head. Accidentally meeting his mother’s eyes, Aemond realized he’s given too much away and turned his attention back to dinner.

Everyone seemed to pleased at this god-forsaken dinner table. Greens and Blacks didn’t get along too well but with the king demanding peace and two members of Greens and Blacks were practically on each other at all times, something similar to an alliance had formed for this evening.

Once the music started and his stupid nephew had asked his sister to dance, Aemond noticed Aegon flicking his eyes towards the dance floor more than once.

Don’t even dream about it, fucker, Aemond wanted to scream at him.

He was drunk. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t take two steps without falling flat on his face! What kind of dancer would his brother make tonight?

Aemond moved almost on a whim once he saw Aegon getting up. Due to his brother being heavily intoxicated, Aemond was able to cross the room in the time period it took for Aegon to get up.

You looked up from where you where sitting and then your eyes slid down to Aemond’s extended hand. You swallowed, watching the younger brother towering over you with such intensity. You were also quite tipsy, although not as much as your companion.

In your intoxicated state you hadn’t noticed how everyone who still sat at the table had stopped talking and had turned their whole attention towards the end of the table where you sat. Alicent looked almost scared as if she knew exactly how violently Aemond had pictured dealing with Aegon. Your father looked vaguely entertained. Your mother seemed a bit surprised.

- Are you sure your high education covered dancing, brother? – Aegon who had also stood up, no doubt to ask you to join him on the dance floor, softly laughed at his brother. – You know, you can’t learn that from b-

- Shut up, - Aemond spoke to Aegon but his eyes didn’t leave yours. – A dance, my lady?

You put your glass down and placed your hand in his warm one that completely engulfed yours. Aemond’s fingers lightly tingled wherever your skin touched his. Aegon sat back down and everyone – either bored or out of politeness – returned to their boring discussions.

You were more drunk than you thought as you miscalculated your steps and ended up almost running into Aemond’s chest.

- Sorry, - you murmured, backing up. – I don’t think I’m gonna a good dance partner tonight, Aemond.

Aemond.

Not lord Targaryen.

Not prince Aemond.

Whenever you were distracted or tipsy, you almost always called him by his name. At those rare moments he could imagine replacing his brother as your companion and friend. You never called him by a title.

His other hand, the one not holding yours, reached to steady you by your bicep. He easily towered over your height and when you looked up, he decided that that right there is the sight he’d cherish to see every day for the rest of his life.

- It’s fine, - he lead you towards where Jacaerys and Helaena already danced. – I’ll lead.

The moment you started dancing, Aemond realized exactly why this was such a bad idea. Once one of his hands went to rest on the small of your back and the other grasped your hand, he noticed how close you stood. But that wasn’t all because you were also drunk and by proxy – forgot to give enough space.

Your left hand reached under Aemond’s arm, up his back and rested on the back of his shoulder. In your drunken stupor, you couldn’t keep yourself up steady so your lightly pressed your face against his shoulder and let him lead.

Aemond’s breath hitched in his throat. You were so, so close. He only had to lean down a little bit and he could place a kiss directly on the top of your head.

- You smell so good, - you quietly giggled, sucking in a deep breath, burying your face in his shirt.

So quietly that for a second the prince thought he might’ve imagined it.

Was this how you would’ve danced with Aegon, had he gotten a chance to ask you? Would you say those same words to him?

Not unless you liked the mix of wine and sweat.

For a moment Aemond’s blood froze in his veins. Did you think he was Aegon? You were drunk enough to mistake your mother for your father.

- Who am I? – Aemond threaded carefully. – Can you say my name, sweetheart?

You looked up with a puzzled expression but not an unconscious one. As your brows furrowed, you tried to pull your hand back from Aemond’s hand but he snapped his fingers shut around it.

- What?

- Do you remember my name, Y/N? – he whispered softly.

You stared for a moment longer before bursting out laughing. It was Aemond’s turn to look bewildered.

- I’m not that drunk, prince Aemond, - you proclaimed, leaning back against him. – Everything’s just spinning and blurring.

Aemond exhaled in relief. Looking over your head, his eyes found Aegon’s who was still still nursing a glass of wine. Once their eyes met, Aemond couldn’t help but look smug.

Watch me, brother, he wanted to laugh in Aegon’s face. Watch me steal her and keep her all to myself.

Aegon either was too drunk or simply didn’t care.

What an idiot...

***

As the dinner was wrapping up and most of the family had already left, you stood up too. Your mother and father had retired early, saying that the babe could come any day and they needed all the rest they could get. Both your brothers were still at the table, so was Helaena and Aegon.

At least you thought that was Aegon.

He was watching you from his seat, as you lightly stumbled on your feet and knocked over an empty glass.

Had you been sober, you would’ve noticed that the blonde prince sitting in front of you was far too calm and stiff to be your drinking companion.

- Shall I escort you, sister? – your oldest brother offered.

You shook your head. Last thing you wanted was to fuck up his chance with Helaena after he spend the whole ride here gushing over her.

And you were prideful enough not to agree to be escorted to your room by the brother half your age who probably was too young to even see his sister in this state.

In the state you were in – everything blurring together and your body barely holding you upright – you didn’t notice the young Targaryen prince’s eyes never leaving your form for a second.

You stumbled into the hallway and the strong burst of clear air coming from the open windows gave a little bit of restart to your brain. You leaned against the wall and greedily inhaled the pleasant evening air, all the while trying not to vomit.

Hangover’s gonna be a bitch tomorrow...

- Shall I help you to your room? – a voice behind you made you jump.

- No, Jace, I’m... – your started but once the person talking entered your very limited peripheral vision, you quickly correct yourself. – Oh, it’s just you.

Aemond tilted his head, watching your unfocused gaze run all over his body. He hated when ladies of the court did that, it made him feel insecure. However, he had no problem with you checking him out so thoroughly.

- How are you okay, Aegon? – you half-laughed, lightly punching Aemond’s side. – You drank more than me!

Aemond felt freezing cold seeping into his bones. You checked him out because... you thought he was Aegon? You laughed and smiled because you mistook him for his brother?

Even now when his brother was nowhere in sight, even now he could feel Aegon’s amusement dancing around the empty hallway.

Still no chance, brother?

I’m not even in the same room, and she still chooses me? Damn.

Aemond felt a deep need to go find his drunk, undoubtedly passed out brother and threaten, plead, beg him to never speak to you again. Maybe then he could have a chance to be looked at, to be seen by you.

Everything suddenly flipped before your eyes and you felt yourself lose balance but before you could hit the ground, you felt yourself being lifted up by two strong arms and being held close to a man’s chest. You head lulled to the side and fell into the croak of Aemond’s neck.

Your warm breath tickled his skin and your messed up hair stuck to his skin, as Aemond began walking.

You weighed nothing in his arms, and the young prince narrowed his eyes. Had you even eaten anything at dinner? Or were you just drinking?

Fucking Aegon.

Aemond felt even more bitterness seep into his heart. Aegon truly didn’t care.

I would, he decided. I would make sure you are fed, warm, happy, healthy.

- Just take me to your room, - you muttered under your breath.

Aemond sucked in a breath and his heart skipped a beat only until he realized who you thought you were talking to. His good-for-nothing brother. Fucker was not even here and was still ruining everything.

- Over my dead body, - Aemond threw out and began the long walk to your own quarters.

Once he had you in your room, he carefully placed you down on your bed and grabbed a blanket to cover you. You tried to shrug it off but he knew that you’d be cold once you sobered up. He brushed few loose strands away from you eyes and bent down to kiss you.

A forehead kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone...

However, the closer he got to your half-conscious form, the more his eyes strayed to your lips. He towered over your sleeping form and then suddenly, before he could talk himself out of it, leaned in closer and pressed a kiss against your lips.

Heaven tasted like a mix of you and wine.

He closed his eyes, taking it all in. Your lips were soft and made to be kissed by him. He wanted to feel them on his face, on his neck, down his chest, around his dick.

- What are you doing? – your eyes were wide open, and Aemond immediately straightened up.

Aemond cursed himself for being foolish enough to let his temptations and greed take over for even a second. He stood completely still, hands behind his back shaking a little.

- I-I’m sorry, - his voice cracked, imagining that he’d ruined everything. – I didn’t mean-

He couldn’t finish though because in the next moment you had already risen to your feet – still obviously intoxicated but more stable due to the fresh air – and crossed the short distance between you two. With concern Aemond regarded your hooded and still very much unfocused gaze, as you rose to your tiptoes.

Your right hand slid into his blonde hair and tugged. Aemond felt himself getting harder – if that was possible – as your lips touched his neck. You kissed his skin lighty before biting him.

Aemond’s hands went to hold your waist, as he felt himsef lose more and more in your touch, in your taste, in your presence.

- You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, - your whispered, licking a hickey you’ve just given him before looking up into his eyes. – But you never seemed interested...

You pushed him against the wall and Aemond’s hold on you tightened.

- You’re so cold all the time... – you mumbled to yourself, as you started unbuttoning his shirt. – Only nice to me when you need something...

Aegon’s a fucking bastard, Aemond thought but secretly enjoyed that both of you weren’t as close as it had seemed from afar.

He desperately waited for some morals to kick in. Was he really okay with you thinking he was his brother? Was he really that desperate to be with you, sleep with you, that he would be okay to be called by his brother’s name?

An answer came as soon as you placed an innocent, chaste kiss on his chest.

He turned you around so that now you were the one against the wall. His mouth practically attached yours and one of his hands slid into your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss your neck. When you moaned, he felt drunk and delirious.

And triumphant.

Fuck Aegon and fuck your feelings for him. He was gonna destroy every single thing you felt for his brother...

- Aegon, - you moaned.

Aemond gathered your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above your head.

- Don’t say my name, - he begged more than commanded. – Not tonight...

He gave you a few hickeys on your neck and breasts. He’ll enjoy you seeing them in shock in the morning. You tugged on your wrists to be released but Aemond only held them tighter.

- I fucking love this, - you whispered.

- You won’t tomorrow, - he whispered, putting his free hand on the nape of your neck before kissing you softly. – But we’ll work it out.

When you looked up at him, he thought your eyes looked clearer and gaze was less hooked. For a second, he thought you might’ve regained enough sobriety to recognize him but you only pulled your wrists free, put your hands on his naked chest and pushed him into your bed.

Climbing on his lap, you were the one who initiated kiss this time. The cold rings on your fingers touched Aemond’s skin, as you cupped his face. You kissed passionately and breathlessly, and Aemond hated that Aegon had probably felt the same kisses at some point.

Doesn’t matter, he thought to himself. You’re mine now.

He quickly flipped you over and pushed the unbuttoned bodice of your dress down to your hips. You moaned louder as his lips found closed around one of your nipples. Your hands went into his hair once again but this time he pinned your wrists against the bed.

- What do you want? – he asked, looking up at you. – Tell me what you want.

Your lips looked bruised and thoroughly kissed. As they should look. Every day for the rest of your life...

- I want, - you panted, as Aemond’s long fingers brushed against your lower lips, losing your train of thought. – I...

Aemond chuckled darkly, detaching himself from your chest.

His useless brother could never...

Would never.

- Please, fuck me, - you begged. – Please, fuck me, Aemond.

He completely froze above you. He didn’t dare to breathe. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Has he gone completely mad in the short time he spent with you?

- What did you just call me? – he asked, voice dangerously low. – What did-

Even in your drunken stupor, you had attitude. You dared to roll your eyes – no joke – into the back of your skull out of sheer annoyance.

- I’m sorry, Aegon, - you stressed his brother’s name with frustration. – You know I mess both of your names when drunk...

Aemond still stood himself still. So... You’d done this before? You’d made out drunk with Aegon but called out his name? Aemond felt rush of electricity through his body. There were evenings when he would retire to his room without knowing that somewhere in the castle you were screaming out his name in pleasure?

- That’s fine, that’s fine, - he said neither to you nor himself. – It’s all fine.

So you weren’t as unaffected by him as he had thought? You did notice him? You’ve noticed him enough to fantasize about him while in between the sheets.

Aemond felt estatic.

- Just fuck me and be done with it, - you commanded Aegon – Aemond – and pulled him down for a kiss.

Aemond flipped you on your stomach and peppered kisses down your spine. You tried to turn back around but he stopped you with a hand on your back, pressing you down into the matress.

- Stay still, sweetheart, - he whispered against your back. – I want to take my time.

- You’re annoying, - you huffed but still let him do his “enjoying”.

Aemond was nervous. Mostly, because he had never done this with anyone since that first time Aegon had brought him to a brothel and forced him to lose his virginity.

Would you notice a difference?

You probably would sober but now – even though you were fairly coherent – now you would probably assume Aegon had mastered something new from one of his nightly visits.

An insecurity he’d never felt before gripped his heart.

What if he was not enough? Good enough, satisfying enough for you? He always had the need to excel at everything but now – with you – that need to be the best you’ve ever had was overwhelming.

- Stop teasing and fuck me already, - you whined, looking back at him.

He slowly slid inside your tight cunt and pulled your back against his chest so you were forced to practically sit back against him. He wrapped his hand around your neck and pressed his lips against your ear.

- Do I fuck better than him? – he whispered, as he roughly thrusted into you again and again. – Or does that drunk moron actually knows what he’s doing in bed?

Your eyes narrowed, as he the other arm of your lover wrapped around your naked waist and pressed you further into him, continuing to fuck you fast and rough. You felt him in your stomach...

For the first time...

Ever...

Aemond licked your earlobe before leaning down to suck a hickey on the side of your neck.

- Quite frankly, I don’t care, - he said darkly into your ear. – He’ll never fuck you again.

Something flashed in your memory. The scent. It was oddly familiar.

- He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure of it...

Your eyes widened as you recognized the scent of your dance partner earlier tonight...

But it was too late anyway.

Aemond roughly pushed you forward and you landed on your elbows, his fingers digging into your hips as he mounted you from behind. You had sobered up enough to recognize that this was not how Aegon fucked. He was never passionate about it. You couldn’t tell from just looking at him but Aegon actually preferred slower sex.

This was no Aegon.

Realization came too late because the moment Aemond’s fingers touched your clit, you felt your orgasm explode and dark dots started dancing across your vision. He let you ride out your orgasm before he pushed into you to the hilt and came deep inside you.

That was the last thing you felt before you lost consciousness.

***

Your eyes weren’t open yet but you heard voices. Whispering, angry voices just few feet away. Your body seemed to be on fire, every fiber and muscle ached. You tried to pull the blanket over your head, only to realize that all you had on you was a thin silk bed sheet.

That was new.

- You know what’s going to happen now, - an angry woman’s voice sounded somewhere close. – You were heard by dozens of servants. They know.

You opened your eyes and saw the queen standing by the door. Your head was pounding as you tried to see with whom she talked.

- I know, mother, - a familiar husky voice responded. – I’ll take care of it.

There was a pause.

- The right way.

As you dressed, you had disturbingly erotic flashbacks from last night. You were with Aegon. Surely. Blonde hair. Strong arms. No doubt there was no one else you would “accidentally” fuck while drunk.

It was no secret you and Aegon had somewhat of a fuck buddy relationship. You got drunk together. You slept together. You did stupid shit together. That was your thing because at the end of the day you didn’t love him. Didn’t even like him. Probably couldn’t tolerate him sober. Although, that theory had never been tested due to both of you never staying sober for long.

He was a nice toy, a nice placeholder, coincidentally beneficially looking a quite similar to a different man who often craved...

As you went down for breakfast, you were met with few servants giving you dirty looks. It would bother you if you weren’t so damn hungry.

Maybe they heard me and Aegon last night.

That had to be it.

Entering the dinner hall, you immediately noticed two things – your mother looked nervous and Aegon was nowhere to be found. Furrowing your brows, you went to sit down in your usual spot – next to Aegon’s seat that was empty this morning. Then you noticed that your spot at the table – where there usually would be dishes of food and glasses of drinks – was empty as well.

- Did we rearrange seats? – you half-laughed, looking at your family.

Your father gave you a look of pity, while your mother looked down. Even both of your brothers were silent.

Freaky.

The queen cleared her throat and silently tilted her head to the empty seat in front of her. In front of her and right beside prince Aemond who sat back in his seat with one hand on the table, clearly enjoying your confusion way too much.

Not wanting to create a scene and question these changes, you went to take your seat when Aemond suddenly stood up to pull back your chair for you. You stopped, surprised.

- My lady, - prince greeted, a smug look on his face – You look well rested this morning.

That was a weird statement and clearly not the truth but you brushed it off and sat down. Your eyes kept going to back to where Aegon was supposed to be.

If he was with you last night, where did he go? How did he make it back to his room drunk out of his mind?

- Where’s Aegon? – you asked no one in particular.

When no one answered you, you locked eyes with the man on your left.

He was already looking at you.

- He’s probably passed out somewhere, - Aemond explained softly. – I heard he had quite a night.

You wanted to throw out something witty or laugh but you had strong suspicion you and Aegon were heard last night so saying something right now might be innapropriate...

Where did he pass out though? When did he leave?

- With one of the servant girls...

It took your foggy brain a sizeable amount of time to process his whole sentence together. Aemond’s eyes didn’t leave your face, as you finally put the words together.

Passed out somewhere... quite a night... with one of the servant girls...

Wine on your lips got bitter aftertaste. It took you a lot of effort to swallow down a gulp. Your eyes met with the queen’s over the table. She looked at you. As a matter of fact, everyone at the table was.

You put the wine down and cleared your throat. Aegon... No, he had to be the one in your room last night...

Involuntarily a horrified realization washed over you.

The words were different...

He’ll never touch you again.

The touch was different.

The scent was different.

The man was different.

Because it was not the same man at all...

Your head snapped to your left where Aemond sat, quite satisfied with your reaction. You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by your mother.

- I think it’s best if we just get this over with, - she said. – The less time passes before the wedding, the less people will talk about this... incident.

You turned to your mother.

- What incident? – you asked.

It seemed like your mother had trouble putting it into decent words so she looked down again. It was your father, Daemon, who spoke up.

- People know about your... nightly endeavours, daughter, - he finished. – A wedding as soon as possible would help your reputation and serve as an alliance.

- Wedding with who? – you started to feel cold sweat cover your back. – Wedding with-

You couldn’t finish once you felt warm fingers touch the side of your neck. You knew it was Aemond before even turning your head. His fingers slowly stroked your skin and you felt a small ping of pain exactly where Aegon... Aegon had...

Where Aemond had left a hickey. Last night. When he fucked you.

- I think it’s for the best, wife, - he savored the title on his tongue. – We don’t want people saying that the man who took your virginity didn’t want your hand in marriage...

You straight up laughed, roughly batted his arm away from your neck and stood up to tower over him.

- If it’s the virginity that’s so important for marriage, I should probably marry Aegon! – you hit the table with your hand.

Aemond stood up too, and you had suspicion he only did that to gain height advantage. He leaned in closer, into your personal space, and whispered so only you would hear him:

- There is no proof of that, aside from suspicion from our families, - he chuckled darkly. – But there’s more than enough evidence for what we did last night.

You looked up at him, horrified how well he had thought everything through.

- I guess it’s a good thing both of you hid your relationship this well, - he smiled and continued talking to you in his low, husky voice. – And, unless you’re ready to publicly admit you lost your virginity to a married man, I’m afraid formally you lost it to me...

You slapped him across the face with all the strength you could muster after last night.

His head tilted to the side only a little bit. The bastard laughed.

- There’s that spirit from last night! – he said, looking at you thriumphantly. – Save it for our marriage bed, princess.

- Aemond, - the queen warned him.

In any other case, you would be horrified to have these things said to your in front of your family. Right now you didn’t care.

- You set me up! – you accused, and upon realizing that nothing will salvage your reputation in front of these people, added just as loudly. – I thought you were Aegon!

He saw a glimpse of irritation that you now recognized as familiar because that’s the look he always got whenever you spoke about his brother. Then it just as quickly disappeared and was exchanged for a smirk.

- And still you called for me, - he had lowered his voice again, as if not wanting to share too much of your intimacy with anyone. – You came for me. You screamed for me.

- Fuck you!

Glimpse of amusement flashed in his eye and only now somewhere in your brain it registered that he hadn’t worn the eye patch while fucking you. Glimpses of memories of the blue saphire solidified the fact that it was indeed Aemond who was with you last night.

- That you will too, - he promised darkly. – You’ll never fuck nobody else, wife. If you dare to attempt that, I’ll deliver his cock to your as a gift to look at while your husband fucks you...

You had no idea how much people around you had heard, and, frankly, didn’t care.

- It’s just you and I from now on, princess...

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #hotd #imagine #house of the dragon imagine #alicent hightower #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #dark imagine #ewan mitchell

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saltywritings · 5 months

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Bend The Knee | Aegon ii Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You have been called upon at court to bend the knee to the newly crowned king, however, a surprising turn takes place when you bend the knee.

Warnings: Smut, Minors do not interact, male oral receiving, oral as a demand, adult content, slight female receiving.

A palpable undercurrent of terror unfurled its tendrils within you as you ventured through the hallowed halls of the red keep. The subtle cadence of your heels created a delicate patter, resonating against the stoic stone floors, each step echoing the rhythmic pulse of your heart, which had quickened its tempo within the confines of your chest. The ominous ambiance of the surroundings enveloped you, casting shadows that danced in eerie tandem with the disquiet settling in the air. The very essence of the fortress seemed to be imbued with an unspoken tension, as if secrets whispered among the walls, and the weight of history bore down upon you, amplifying the sense of foreboding that clung to the atmosphere like a shroud.

How could one not succumb to an overwhelming sense of terror while traversing the path leading to the throne room? The ominous summons from the king, directed specifically at you, added a layer of apprehension that hung heavy in the air. This unsettling journey unfolded in the aftermath of the harrowing executions, where both your brother and father met their demise for adamantly refusing to yield before the might of Aegon Targaryen.

The weight of grief and defiance still lingered, casting a somber shadow over your steps. The very air seemed charged with a palpable tension, the echoes of the recent tragedy reverberating through the corridors. Each footfall echoed with a haunting resonance, a morose rhythm that mirrored the throbbing ache in your heart. The throne room loomed ahead, its imposing doors a portal to an uncertain fate.

As you approached, the memories of your fallen kin and their unwavering loyalty to their principles pressed upon your consciousness. The foreboding atmosphere intensified, a testament to the gravity of the situation. The iron grip of fear tightened its hold, fueled not only by the formidable presence of Aegon Targaryen but also by the specter of the irrevocable losses suffered in the name of steadfast allegiance.

As the grand doors swung open, revealing the regal spectacle of the throne room, your gaze fixed upon the newly crowned king. Adorning his head was a formidable black crown, adorned with a radiant ruby at its center, a symbol of authority that seemed to cast a profound weight upon his brow. His dark, penetrating eyes met yours as he beckoned you forward with a commanding yet composed presence.

"Lady Y/N, come closer," he declared, his voice unwavering and devoid of menace. The resonance of his command held a magnetic power, drawing you toward him. The air in the throne room seemed to pulse with a peculiar intensity, as if the very fabric of destiny hung in the balance.

Complying with the regal summons, you gracefully approached the throne, your steps measured and deliberate. Standing before him, the gravity of the moment became palpable. The ruby at the heart of his crown gleamed like a beacon, a testament to the authority he now wielded. The silence that enveloped the room spoke volumes, punctuating the significance of your presence in Aegon's gaze.

"I ask of you what I have asked of all my subjects. Prove yourself loyal." Aegon notified you, his voice hung with authority with each word that echoed through the throne room. You stood before him; despite the loyalty that your father and brother had put their life on the line for you were not willing to die. they made their choice and you could be nothing but proud based on the honor they were willing to die for. therefore, you made your own choice.

You sunk down to your knee and looked to the ground as you pledged yourself loyal to his crown. However, a great confusion managed to overcome you as you heard a small laughter come from the king.

"Both knees, lady y/n." Aegon spoke with a certain chuckle to your tone. A great confusion engulfed your senses by his sudden amusement. Still, you complied wanting to ensure that you made it out of this room with your life. You now rested before him with both your knees flat on the ground.

"Come closer," he urged as you gave a small slide on the ground. Remaining on your knees he let out a groan in anticipation. "Come here," he let out an eager demand grabbing onto you by your waist and sliding you so close to him that your knees were touching the iron throne. You were between his legs, looking up at him with pitiful eyes as he smiled. It was only now that you had noticed the growing erection in Aegon's pants and the sudden blush that covered your cheeks.

"Open my pants and use your mouth to show me how loyal you are to your king." Aegon demanded of you, sitting back as he looked to you waiting for you to make a move.

"B-but your grace . . . "you attempted to struggle. "I am a maiden I do not know how to do such a thing." you suggest your voice stuttering in tear unable to look up to meet his eyes.

Aegon let out a sigh as he took your hands. "It is not hard to do. I will show you," he insisted grabbing onto your hands and pulling them to his pants.

He helped you open the button holding them together and brought your hand to the inside of his pants. His cock felt soft against your hand and was throbbing from the very contact you offered. Aegon guided your hand to pull it out and your eyes widened at the sight of his cock before your face. Aegon could not help but to smile at the way your eyes looked to bewildered at the sight of him.

"Now open that sweet mouth of yours," Aegon demanded, you complied without hesitation. You knew what was to happen next and you worried any lack of performance would result in the end of your life and therefore.

With your mouth open wide he grabbed you by the roots of your hair and sank you onto his cock. It was a strange feeling, to have one in your mouth. It tasted slightly salty and you could not help but notice the vein that was pulsing against your tongue as he sunk you onto him. He let out a loud groan of pleasure begun to sink back into the throne.

With this gloved leather hands rooted into your hair he looked at you with his cold eyes, biting on his lip as he begun to force your head up and down on his cock. You complied with the action, however, begun to gad the further he forced your head down. It was perhaps for a moment you attempted to wiggle off a bit to ease from the gagging but Aegon only took efforts to force you down further.

"Hush, Hush. Relax sweet thing that's part of it." He insisted to you as he continued to force your head up and down on his cock until he had balls deep, forcing your lips to swallow his entire length.

"Fuck- Fuck, you're so beautiful when you're swallowing my cock like that." Aegon let out in a groan, still listening to the wet sounds your mouth made as it engulfed his cock. His boots sliding across the floor as he attempted to hold out. But there had been something too good about the feeling of your mouth around him.

Aegon soon pulled you off his cock, watching as the spit that trailed from your mouth and down your chin connected to his cock. Aegon stood before you, his hand in your hair still as he forced you to look up at him. "Fuck, yes-" he let out in a moan again as his cold eyes remained on yours.

Aegon kept you looking up at him as he began to release. The only thing you could do was look up helplessly at your king as he begun to release his seed across your face, watching as it dripped down your cheeks and onto the fine lace of your dress. "You look so beautiful with my cum ruining your innocent face." He said with a smile. "Good little loyal subject," he took a second to praise you while he stuffed his cum covered cock back into his pants.

"Rise," He remanded and you complied standing to your feet, his cum covering your face, you dared not move. However, you were met with sudden shock when Aegon went to his knees, the king before you on your knees was certainly not what you were expecting and he lifted up your dress. Aegon was now before your clothes womanhood and he soon pressed his face against it, taking in a deep breath as his other hand held your back steady. You let out a small yelp and could not help the involuntary struggle.

"Hold still- you are still proving yourself." Aegon reminded you and you attempted to so, looking as his nose pressed into your cunt and he took deep breaths in. He let out a hum of approval as he pulled his face away and begun to pull your underwear down just far enough to expose yourself to him. Aegon did not hesitate, his tongue managed to do a swipe across the inside of your cunt and he soon let out another hum.

"Gods, you little whore. You fucking loved that. You're dripping wet, like a ripe peach." Aegon said, with his hands holding onto your waist his tongue went in again. it licked and sucked and while you found pleasure in it that was not his intention. No, Aegon was trying to suck out every drop he could. However, after a few moments he pulled away, pulling down your dress but leaving your underwear exposed.

"You are expected at my chambers at nightfall. I believe I know a few others ways to test your loyalty."

#aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon smut #dark house of the dragon smut

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fragileheartbeats · 18 days

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⌗ 𝘛𝘎𝘊 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ( ♱ )

He would be possessive and controlling, driven by his fear of losing his darling. He would show his love and affection through lavish gifts, constant attention, and grand gestures of devotion, all while subtly manipulating his darling's actions and decisions to ensure they remain by his side. His intensity would escalate gradually, starting with subtle hints of possessiveness and control before turning into more overt displays of jealousy and manipulation. He would be skilled at reading and understanding his darling's emotions, using this knowledge to both comfort and control them. He would treat his darling with a mix of adoration and manipulation, alternating between moments of intense affection and cold detachment depending on his mood and his perceived threat to their relationship. If his darling were abducted, he would likely use a combination of emotional manipulation and psychological torture to break their will and ensure their compliance. He may mock them or belittle their attempts to resist, but he would ultimately be driven by his desire to possess and control them rather than inflicting physical harm. He would struggle with feelings of vulnerability when it comes to his darling, fearing rejection or betrayal more than anything else. If his darling were to fight back, he would be devastated and likely become even more possessive and controlling in an attempt to regain their affection. His darling's worst experience would likely involve a combination of emotional manipulation, psychological torture, and physical confinement, designed to break their spirit and ensure their compliance. He would be intensely jealous and possessive, lashing out at anyone who he perceives as a threat to his relationship with his darling. He may cope by isolating his darling from others or by attempting to control every aspect of their life. Around his darling, his true colors would be drastically different from how he acts around others. He would be charming and attentive, but also possessive and controlling, hiding his darker tendencies behind a facade of love and devotion. If his darling were to disobey him, he would likely punish them through emotional manipulation, psychological torture, or physical confinement. He would gradually strip away their rights and freedoms, exerting more and more control over every aspect of their life. He would struggle to move on if his darling were to leave or escape, feeling a deep sense of loss and betrayal. He may never truly feel guilty about abducting his darling, believing that their love justifies his actions. He may eventually let his darling go if he realizes that his possessiveness is ultimately driving them away, but he would likely struggle with feelings of resentment and longing for a long time afterward. Seeing his darling scream, cry, or isolate themselves would both disturb and intrigue him, fueling his desire to possess and control them even more. He would worship his darling to an unhealthy degree, willing to go to any length to win them over and keep them by his side. He would pine after them endlessly, becoming increasingly desperate and unstable as time goes on. Ultimately, he may be willing to break his darling emotionally if he feels they are slipping away from him, using manipulation and psychological torture to ensure their continued compliance and devotion.

The cold air whispered through the cracks in the window frame, sending shivers down her spine as she sat huddled in the dimly lit room. Her eyes flickered nervously around the unfamiliar surroundings, her heart pounding with fear and confusion. How had she ended up here, trapped in this eerie silence?

Tom stood in the doorway, watching her with fascination. His dark eyes gleamed with intensity as he approached, his footsteps echoing off the barren walls.

"Are you comfortable, darling?" he asked, his voice dripping with false concern.

She recoiled instinctively, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Where am I? What do you want from me?"

Tom's lips curled into a sinister smile as he moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush against her cheek. "You're with me now, where you belong. And what I want is simple – you."

Her heart raced as she tried to make sense of his words, the realization sinking in that she was indeed trapped in his grasp.

As the days passed, Tom's demeanor shifted between moments of kindness and flashes of cruelty. He would bring her meals, whispering sweet promises of love and devotion, only to turn cold and distant at the slightest sign of defiance.

She struggled to maintain her composure, clinging to the hope of escape even as the days blurred together in a haze of fear and uncertainty.

One evening, as the moon cast a soft glow through the window, Tom approached her with a determined glint in his eyes. "I can see it in your eyes, darling. You're still fighting against me, against us. But I won't let you go. You're mine, now and forever."

Tears welled in her eyes as she gazed up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Tom. Let me go. I don't belong here."

His grip tightened on her arm, his voice laced with desperation. "You're wrong, darling. You belong with me. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you see that."

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

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flowerandblood · 7 months

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The Evening Star (Preview)

[ Hades • Aemond x Persephone • fem!reader ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, kidnaping, sexual tension, obsession, incest, toxic relation ]

[ description: When the god of the underworld comes out of his caves once a year to admire his beloved constellation, he accidentally meets his niece, whom he has never seen before. Moved by sudden lust and desire, he kidnaps her, despite her despair and his brother's anger. Angst, sexual tension, dark and obsessive Aemond. ]

FULL CHAPTER

_____

"My mother told me a lot about you. About the sun hurting your eye." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly seeing that she was looking at his scar, at the stone placed where his eye once was.

He thought he was like Hephaestus, hideous, disfigured, and that she would never want him.

He felt his jaw clench tightly, his body tense, hard as granite when she placed her hand tentatively on his shoulder, he felt the warmth of her flesh through the thin material of his robe.

He didn't know what was happening to his body, he felt tickling and tension in his lower abdomen, a strenuous need for some kind of relief that he didn't understand.

"Stay with me to watch the sunrise. Don't sink into darkness yet." She whispered as if in worry, and he couldn't tear his gaze from her face, from her warm eyes.

He was unable to comprehend how any living being could be so beautiful.

"No." He said coldly, and then grasped her in his arms, his hands tightening on her soft, hot flesh like steel tongs.

For a moment she couldn't make a sound, terrified and shocked, she didn't scream when he threw her over his shoulder and headed towards his underworld, cold, dark, damp.

It was only when she realised what he was doing that she began to struggle and cry, calling loudly for help from her mother and father, begging him not to do it, to let her go, that she would not tell anyone about it.

He, however, decided to follow his brother's advice and take a wife.

_____

Let me know if you are not on my Aemond Main Taglist and you wanna be tagged in this oneshot💖

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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

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My first choice (part 2/2)

summary: Aemond thinks you are way too good to be Aegon’s best friend. But you are enough for the one-eye prince to fall in love with.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader words: ~ 8500 (this is why I divided it into 2 parts lmao)

warnings: friends to lovers, more angst (death of a parent, attempted harassment), hurt/comfort, an embarrassing amount of softness, Aegon is the smartest one for once (and I’m trashing Jason Lannister again!) author’s note: this is heavily inspired by “Little women” (2019) and Amy March in particular (read the rest of my long-ass explanation in part 1). again, I apologize for the angst! it gets worse before it gets better

Part 2. In a room full of art I stare at you

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Aemond. Maybe you were too blind to notice until it was too late or maybe you were doomed from the start. From the moment when the boy, who everyone deemed to be intimidating and reclusive, bent down to you to offer help without any hesitation. The second-born son of the King, tall and close-mouthed, surely had more important things to do than waste time on a strange girl crying over her stupid dress — and yet, he only showed you solicitude, asking for nothing in return.

You thought that mayhaps you owed him, and were seeking the opportunity to return the favor. Or at least that’s how you tried to justify the fact that you were looking for him every chance you got. You often found a reason to chat with Aemond during dinners and feasts, feeling bad for him spending time on his own — and you learned that he was very easy to talk to. You made sure to visit the training yard if he was there and sometimes stayed to watch him train for hours, even — or especially — when everyone else already left. His tenacity and strength had certain allure but under all those layers, you saw a lonely boy whose only friend was probably his dragon.

Despite the circumstances and his preferred solitude, Aemond never rejected your company, however sudden it might have been. Even when Aegon foolishly suggested playing hide and seek one evening, bored out of his mind, and you busted into the library and stumbled upon Aemond, who looked like he had no interest in silly games. And yet, when you awkwardly asked for the best place to hide at, he guided you to the enclosed area of the reading room. It was dimly lit by just a few candles and, somewhere between feeling uncomfortable and getting scared, you reached for his hand. He didn’t pull away. Furthermore, he stayed with you and cheered you up with stories about Old Valyria, making you forget about any childish fears.

As the two of you have grown older, you often heard people being frightened by Aemond’s disposition but you found there to be no ground for that. He’s never been rude to you nor had he lost his temper, regardless of circumstances — and the day you saw him without the eyepatch for the first time was the prime example of that. It was getting late and Aegon had too much to drink and, while running around in a drunken stupor, he cut his hand somewhere in the yard. Luckily, the wound wasn’t too deep but he was bleeding and refused to get help, against your best wishes. He was babbling that scars adorn a man — and then, in an attempt to escape you chasing him, he barged into Aemond’s chambers. You ran in merely a second after, with explanations at the ready, and were met with his younger brother standing there, looking startled. It took you a second to realize he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch.

“My scar will be easier to hide,” Aegon giggled, not recognizing the gravity of the situation.

It was the only time you had to make an effort not to slap him in the face. You thought it was mostly a secondhand embarrassment, which was part of the experience of being Aegon’s friend, but the look on Aemond’s face, hurt and humiliated, also made your heart ache.

“His scar is a reminder of his bravery and the strength of his character that he should only be proud of,” you gave Aegon a death stare. “Yours will be a reminder of your idiocy.”

It seemed to work as his smile vanished and he even muttered an apology, leaving hurriedly to call for the maester. When you turned to Aemond, he already had his eyepatch on, and you fought the urge to come and take him by the hand again. You didn’t want to bother him at such a late hour, so you opted to offer an apology, too, and leave him be.

“His behavior was unworthy. But I meant what I said,” you turned to Aemond on your way out. “And the sapphire looks very pretty,” you could swear you saw a trace of a smile on his face but you chose not to think much of it.

With every encounter, sudden or not, and every conversation, most of which were too short for your liking, you were making more room for Aemond in your heart. You should’ve known you were a lost cause when you actually told yourself — out loud, with hands grabbing the edges of your table — “I will not fall in love with him.” At that point, you already did. He always worked so hard to be seen — and you only had eyes for him all along.

You hid your true feelings well enough for anyone to take notice — but your father was no fool. He also knew better than to meddle with whatever your thinking process was. So he watched from afar for quite some time, until you started catching his curious glances on you every time you went to talk to Aemond. Predictably, after yet another feast he could not resist bringing up the topic.

“Did the royal menace have too many cups of wine again? Haven’t seen him this evening,” he adored Aegon whole-heartedly, and you suspected that their shared love for crude humor was the main reason for that. You didn’t mind.

“Wasn’t that many, actually,” you chuckled. “But he asked me and Aemond to help him to his chambers, said he wasn’t in the mood today.”

“Well, you seem to really enjoy Aemond’s company. I assume that the feeling is mutual?” he looked expressively at you.

Your face grew hot at his words. You also felt your heart break just a little.

“We are merely friends,” you told him, your smile too tense to be believable.

There was a shadow of concern in your father’s gaze, followed by a sad sigh.

“You will let me know if anything changes, though?” he mustered a smile in return and his was much brighter than yours.

“You will be the first one to know,” you promised as he came closer to bring you into a bear hug. You never spoke of it again.

Surprisingly, the only other person who seemed to have suspicions about the nature of your and Aemond’s relationship was his father, the King. You didn’t think he was aware of your existence, and even when your friendship with Aegon grew stronger and you became a regular guest at the castle, you soon realized Viserys barely paid any mind to his younger kids’ whereabouts. You would catch a glimpse of him in the halls and curtsy out of politeness but didn’t expect him to notice. You got too comfortable with his absence — so much so, that one day, when Aegon was carrying your supplies and humorously complained about the lack of art in the castle, you blithely suggested painting a portrait of the King. The last thing you expected was for said man to step out of the corner.

“I would be delighted,” he cut right to the chase. “Lady Y/N, isn’t it?”

He didn’t look scary up close, his face wrinkled and a tad too tired, but quite benevolent. He simply asked if you would be content with drawing him on the Iron Throne and you agreed, just as easily. Truth be told, you didn’t think he would follow up on his offer — being the King and all that, but he sent a carriage down to fetch you literally the next day. Viserys took the task with juvenile ardor, bombarding you with questions — what pose to take, what paint do you use, how quickly will it dry and how did you learn to draw. After he was satisfied with the answers, he changed the subject.

“My wife considers you to have a positive influence on my eldest son,” he pointed out with ill-concealed interest.

“I deeply appreciate her trust but I believe that he is capable of changing on his own,” you corrected him courtly.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he disagreed with a mischievous grin. “I’ve only heard good words about your guidance. It seems that you rein him back so easily, you would’ve made for a fine wife.”

You silently groaned at his comment.

“Your grace, I can assure you, our relationship is strictly of a friendly nature.”

“Oh, I know, I have seen you two,” he said, laughing, and when you peered at him, you saw that it wasn’t his usual uncomfortable-looking crooked grin but an actual genuine laugh.

“Shall you ever lay an eye on any other of my sons,” Viserys continued, much to your surprise. “Do not hesitate to tell me,” and his face suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

You ducked behind the canvas so he didn’t see your heated cheeks.

His suggestion lodged in your memory and even though you wouldn’t dare to actually approach the King, you held out hope that maybe he would give Aemond a similar hint. But months passed, Viserys’s condition drastically worsened, and for whatever reason, he never mended the relationship with his children. And eventually, your hope was gone.

You didn’t lie to Aemond when you told him about having power over who you love. But you failed to mention that said power has its limits — and doesn’t guarantee that your feelings won’t be one-sided. You learned that lesson the hard way when you had to face up to the reality you were in. Your love for Aemond seemed to be as infinite as the ocean — and you had to fit it in a fragile vessel of your heart. At first, you felt the waves raging at the mere glance of his, at every gesture of his goodwill or just upon hearing his voice. The storm of your feelings would splash over the rocks of your self-control but you survived the roaring torrent of love, time after time. The rough ocean grew calm over the years as you came to terms with being in love with someone who didn’t love you back.

You did choose to harbor feelings for Aemond, and you had no regrets about that. But when adulthood came with its own responsibilities that you had to focus on, all your energy was put into finding a husband. You were aware that your choice would have a major impact on your family as their stability depended on it. You approached the issue in a cold-hearted manner, prioritizing the duty above all else. Mayhaps, you were too calculated in your pursuit, and that was how you ended up accepting the courtship of a man who had nothing to give but his wealth.

When it comes to Jason, he never ceases to evoke a few feelings, too, but none of them are pleasant. His arrogance is the first thing that catches the eye — he’s wrapped in it and wears it with pride as if it’s another title of his. You often have to bite your tongue and fake a smile in response to his dismissive remarks and borderline vulgar comments. It doesn’t help that his self-esteem is inflated beyond your comprehension, and if only he could put his own face on their House's sigil, he would. You are grateful that he keeps his hands to himself but you notice him getting quite handsy with the maids, and it gives you an unsettling feeling. His behavior is so disdainful and frivolous, you have no doubts that once you are married, you will be merely an accessory to him, a pretty wife to show off to his friends without taking your opinion into account. Showing off is the one thing he does best — and each time you can’t help but compare him to Aemond who doesn’t even know how to take a compliment. You find yourself thinking about the prince every time Jason comes by, and these thoughts help you get through tiresome promenades with the lord and endure boring dinners with him.

But after your last conversation with Aemond, you force yourself to stop thinking about him altogether. That decision is remorseless but you believe it’s for the better — or at least that’s what you convince yourself to think after you run out of the garden and into your carriage, only caring about getting home as soon as possible. You pretend that nothing happened, lying to your parents that the prince was too busy and you had to return earlier than planned. And then you lock yourself in your chambers, with hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of crying. A small part of you hopes that Aemond will come to you the same day and explain himself. But he doesn’t. When you don’t hear from him for another two days, you come to the conclusion that he regretted his sudden outburst. And that his words actually held no meaning.

Cutting Aemond out of your life does seem to be attainable with some time, and you perceive it as just another task, another skill you can master. But getting him out of your head seems like an impossible goal from the start. You are so used to keeping memories of him, cherishing each and every one, you can’t just erase them all at once. You try your best, you do so with ferocious persistence, but there’s always some annoying little reminder ready to surface and catch you off guard at the most inopportune moment.

It gets even harder when four days later you find yourself sitting next to Jason who is even more presumptuous than usual. At this point, you feel like your nerves are at the limit, so you can’t even find it in yourself to keep up the act. You push your food around the plate, jumping from one pointless thought to another: the tasteless meal, the barely visible crack in your cup, the revolting tone of the lord’s voice. You feel your mother staring at you, clearly displeased with your attitude, yet Jason is oblivious, too wrapped up in bragging about his winery — or whatever else he is talking about, you have no idea because you stopped paying attention about twenty minutes ago.

You think if you stay by his side any longer, you will be physically sick.

So you get up from the table — may be a bit too dramatic for your own liking — and muster out a weak excuse:

“My apologies, I am in need of fresh air.”

You leave before anyone has a chance to stop you.

It seems like an act of disobedience but there’s so much freedom in it, you feel that you can finally take a breath. And you do exactly that once you reach the balcony, several corridors away from the dining hall that felt stuffed with Jason’s ego. As you stand there, soaking up the last rays of the sun, you can’t ignore the obvious question — how is it even possible to marry someone you absolutely cannot tolerate. You never had illusions about the nature of your relationship with him but you at least hoped there would be some ground to build your future on. At yet, right now it looks like you are trying to lay a foundation in the quicksand. For a man of a noble lineage, Jason knows too little of what nobility actually is, and you have enough self-respect to not give him explanations. The prospect of marrying him makes your duty feel like a burden, and you contemplate if you should even take the risk.

You are lost in your thoughts until you hear a thin voice:

“Do you know where the sun lands?”

You turn to find your sister Alyna standing at the door, in her long white nightgown and barefoot, her eyes unnaturally large for her baby-like face. She always talks like that, too thoughtful for her young age, and sometimes she reminds you of Helaena. There you go, another connection to Aemond.

“I do not, my sweetling. Wherever that place is, it’s a well-guarded secret,” you comb her curly hair with your fingers as her curious eyes study your face.

“Maybe it doesn't want to be seen,” she deduces. “Just like you don't.”

Her ability to get straight to the point sometimes blindsides you. It’s also quite liberating to talk to someone who hasn’t yet learned the skill of pretense, and she may be the only sibling of yours with no ulterior motives or hidden agenda. Alyna tilts her head, signaling that she isn’t enjoying your touch anymore — and when you remove your hand, she says, out of the blue:

“Just like Ser Lannister doesn’t.”

You stare at her in bewilderment, and only then notice that the hallway behind her is empty. It dawns on you that Alyna’s nanny Dorea is nowhere to be found. She is only a couple of years older than you, meek and quiet, her trusting nature ever so defenseless — but she is also very pretty. Too pretty for her own good, as your mother likes to say.

You feel a wave of nausea again. This time, it’s followed by a sense of dread curdling in your stomach.

“What did he do?” your voice comes out unusually calm, in striking contrast with how you are really feeling.

“I heard him talking to Dorea outside my chambers. I wanted to join the conversation but he asked me to leave,” her brows slightly furrow. “He said there are some things I am not supposed to see.”

It may be the first thing you and Jason can agree on, you think. It is also the only thing because you certainly will never agree to marry him — and that realization frees you of any false politeness and self-restraint.

“What are those things?” Alyna naively asks, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I shall go and ask him,” you pat her on the cheek. “But you stay here, alright? I will be back before you know it.”

Usually, it would take about a minute to reach your sister’s chambers, but you cover the distance twice as fast. You are a couple of feet away when you hear muffled voices — one is demanding, the other one is scared, and both are well-known to you. You grasp the situation in no time and run to quickly open the door. When you walk in, you feel a flare-up of anger at the sight: Jason grabbed Dorea by the hips, trying to pull her closer, as she weakly protests, her palms pushing at his chest in an attempt to get away. The squeak of the door makes them turn their heads to you, and you see the distressed look on the nanny’s face.

And then their gazes fall behind your back, and Dorea gets horrified.

You easily guess the reason for that — your younger sister isn’t very good at following orders. So Alyna mumbles, standing next to you and looking at her nanny:

“I do not think she likes it.”

“Neither do I,” you throw Jason a baleful stare. “Let her go and get out.”

He removes his hands — so carelessly, it almost seems like he’s offended by your suggestion of his wrongdoing. Dorea immediately comes to your side, ashamed and distraught.

“Did he hurt you?” you inquire, helping to adjust her dress.

“Lady Y/N, I think you misinterpreted — ” Jason tries to say but you shut him off.

“I am not talking to you,” you scowl in his direction. Your face softens when you ask Dorea again: “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, sheepishly trying to explain:

“I didn’t do anything, I-I didn’t want to, and he said... He said he is a lord and I sh-should be flattered.”

Not only did Jason has the audacity to pull that off but he also wanted to do so at your little sister’s chambers — and you simmer at the thought.

“I believe you,” you gently stroke her shoulder. “I promise you will never see him again.”

“These are some unrealistic expectations,” Jason sneers, walking to you but his grin dies down when you look at him again.

“I know your opinion of women isn’t very high — trust me, the feeling is mutual — but you cannot seriously believe you will fool me,” you sense that now he isn’t pleased with your attitude but you don’t care. “When I told you to get out, I meant it. You are not welcome in this house.”

“That doesn’t sound like a wise decision to make if we are to be wed,” Jason contemptuously hisses.

“Then I guess the wedding is off,” you glare defiance at him. “But whoever you end up marrying, I hope she outlives you. Just so she can spit on your grave,” the last part is meant only for him to hear.

And he definitely does as his face reddens with rage. Jason roughly grabs you by the hand, and your nose fills with the stench of wine when he speaks:

“You are in no position to make demands,” he drawls. “Your family is in debt up to its ears, you little halfwit, so I suggest you choose your words very carefully.”

While he doesn’t see it, Alyna looks between you two, and, out of the corner of your eye, you notice her frowning. She doesn’t do well with conflicts as they upset her deeply, which can only trigger one reaction. Before you can say anything, a high-pitched scream shatters the room, echoing through the whole house.

Jason removes his hand within a second, looking shocked, but Alyna stands innocently with her mouth closed as if nothing happened. Your parents come to her chambers in the blink of an eye.

“What is wrong?” your mother looks at you all uncomprehendingly.

“Ser Lannister got lost,” you cooly explain. “He is already leaving.”

“And why is that?” your father glares at him with suspicion.

You want to spare Dorea the humiliation so you pause for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. But Alyna has no understanding of what a maiden’s honor is — and she loudly proclaims:

“Ser Lannister was touching Dorea, and she didn't like it.”

No one in the room needs an explanation for that.

“You shameless scoundrel!” your father roars at Jason, who unsurprisingly isn’t as courageous as before.

“Ser, there clearly has been a mistake — ”

“It was a mistake to let you in,” your father rudely interrupts him. “You won’t set foot in my house ever again. Get out of here before I make you!”

Jason doesn’t need to be told twice and storms out of the room as your father’s gaze follows him. He stands with hands clenched into fists, his nostrils flaring with anger.

“Pompous jerk,” he mumbles under his breath. “And to think that I was willing to give him my daughter’s hand...!” his voice breaks, hoarse with ire, and you notice a vein pop on his forehead. You have never seen him so furious.

“He’s been dealt with,” you cautiously say to ease the tension. “That shouldn’t be a cause for your concern anymore.”

He turns to you, his eyes bloodshot and breathing heavy. As you step closer, you hear whistling sounds with his every breath, and his gaze gets absent. You realize that something is wrong as he opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

“Father, are you alright?”

He places a hand over his heart, trying to inhale, a look of fear in his eyes. The chain of events is too sudden to comprehend: his breathing begins to wheeze as he squirms, falls flat on his back and convulses.

And then your evening turns out to be way worse than you could’ve ever imagined. A week later Aegon wakes up at an ungodly hour — and he’s fueled by sole determination to put an end to everyone’s misery. Surely, he must be the only sane person in his house since all his family members seem to be oblivious to what is going on between you and Aemond. Aegon, however, can use his eyes for their intended purpose — and it is clear as day to him that you and his brother are in love with each other.

He caught on to that pretty fast, although the signs were not that obvious at first: you often smile to people purely out of politeness and Aemond may not show his true feelings even under threat of death. So Aegon kept secretly observing you two, taking note of fleeting glances and light touches, of the way you would relax in Aemond’s presence, the way he was always too eager to help you with whatever you needed, and how you two would gravitate toward each other. Both his brother and his best friend were annoyingly stubborn about making their own decisions so Aegon didn’t mean to interrupt — or at least he tried not to. But when your evident mutual pining stretched into years, Aegon started losing his patience.

In the beginning, he initiated small things, asking Aemond to come and greet you (“Oh, I just woke up! And you are already dressed for the occasion”), to deliver you his hand-written message (“Yes, it is incredibly important and I trust no one but you!” — it was his doodling of Aemond), to keep you company during the feast while Aegon stepped out for a moment (he didn’t come back). He asked him to switch places at dinner (so you and Aemond could sit together), to help find the books you wanted (“All those years of you reading should be good for something”), to pick up the portrait of his children (“They are your nephews, is it so hard?! No, I am not being dramatic!”). A couple of times he even pretended to be way more drunk than he actually was just so you and Aemond could help him to his chambers and spend some time alone in the process. None of that worked. At some point, he seriously contemplated locking you both in a room but then came to the conclusion that you would rather team up to find a way out than confess your feelings. Truly, it seemed hopeless, and Aegon thought that maybe he should give up.

But as of recently he couldn’t help but notice that something was clearly off between you and Aemond, although the younger prince refused to talk about it, and you simply stopped visiting the castle. He decided to give it a day or two, hoping that you would sort things out and refusing to even consider the opposite. A week passed and nothing changed, and Aegon cannot bear looking at Aemond’s sour face any longer. So the older prince comes up with a plan.

He is unexpectedly the first one at the breakfast table and everyone who walks in shoots him a surprised glance. They are amazed even more to see that Aegon isn’t drinking which is as rare as a miracle. Aemond comes last and he is the only one who doesn’t notice the change, too wrapped up in his thoughts. Another thing that goes unnoticed is the gleam of sadness on their mother’s face.

Five minutes in, Aegon clears his throat to attract everyone’s attention.

“So, I was thinking,” he drawls loudly.

“That does not sound good,” Otto mutters, unimpressed, which Aegon chooses to ignore and continues.

“Lady Baratheon’s poor taste in men shouldn’t be an obstacle in our way of reaching the grand goal.”

“Which is...?” Otto asks while the younger prince doesn’t move an ear.

“To find a lady worthy of my brother, of course!” Aegon tries his best to say it with a straight face.

Aemond spares him a glance:

“I didn’t know you took much interest in that.”

“I always have your best interest in mind,” Aegon slaps him on the shoulder earning a disgruntled hum in return.

“I was just thinking if we should go over the list of requirements once more,” Aegon suggests.

“I don’t have a li— ”

“Of course you do!” another slap. “At the very least, she should be of a noble kind. Am I right?”

“Sure,” Aemond absentmindedly agrees.

“And we are definitely looking for someone who is keen on reading.”

“Yes,” Aemond rolls his eye and looks at his plate, already showing no interest in the conversation. That is exactly what Aegon wants — and he starts talking a bit faster:

“Someone with a flexible nature...”

“U-hmm.”

“And with a kind heart...”

“Yes.”

“A great listener...”

“Uh-huh”

“Who will attend to your every need...”

“Sure.”

“And may even be of indescribable beauty...”

“Hmm.”

“...And you will still be miserable because you love Y/N.”

“Yes,” Aemond says without thinking — and then it’s too late to take his word back because everyone’s eyes are already on him. When he turns to his brother, Aegon has a shit-eating grin on his face:

“You are welcome.”

Alicent looks genuinely confused:

“Aemond, but why haven’t you mentioned it?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question for years,” Aegon snorts, and Otto raises an eyebrow.

“Years?” his grandsire questions.

“I almost gave up on him,” Aegon keeps talking while his brother just sits there, eye glued to the table.

“She was the one who drew the portrait of our father,” Helaena cheerfully speaks up. “And he kept it.”

“He did,” Alicent nods and gives her son a sympathetic look. “Aemond, she is an admirable young lady. No one would have spoken against it if only you — ”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Aemond cuts her off, averting his gaze. “She is to be betrothed to Ser Lannister, and I do not intend to ruin her plans.”

“You cannot be serious!” Aegon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shall you find the courage to propose, she will immediately reject him!”

“She already did,” Alicent avows, to everyone’s surprise.

Aemond looks up at his mother in an instant:

“Did she?” he asks in disbelief.

Alicent gives him a wan smile:

“A week ago, yes. It is rumored that his behavior... left much to be desired,” she explains half-heartedly. Her face, however, doesn’t show any signs of happiness.

“That seemed like a reason to celebrate but it doesn’t sound like it,” Aegon looks at her questioningly, and Aemond tenses up in anticipation.

Alicent dithers as her face falls, eyes getting woeful and voice feeble:

“Her father fell ill that very day. Some say he got too upset with the whole situation, and I...,” she takes a deep breath. “I received a message this morning. He passed away three nights ago.”

Everyone falls silent, their faces showing shock that is quickly replaced by sadness.

“Seven hells,” Aegon mumbles.

Aemond doesn’t utter a word, feeling his heart sinking. He knows that you’ve always been your father’s daughter, and the prince cannot even begin to imagine how heartbroken you are right now. He should’ve been there for you, he thinks, full with remorse and guilt.

“You should go,” Aegon turns to him, not a hint of jesting in his voice. “We may give her some time to grieve, but I will gladly take Sunfyre out for — ”

“Why would you need to?” Aemond gives him a puzzled look. “I can take Vhagar.”

Aegon emits a long-drawn groan and says to no one in particular:

“And to think he is the smartest one? I am having doubts”, he then glances at Aemond with reproach. “I am sure her mourning family will not at all get terrified at the sight of your monstrous dragon.”

His brother mulls over the idea.

“It is not safe to fly drunk.”

“I will be stone-cold sober.”

“You believe both of us will fit into the saddle?”

“We will fit just fine, can you stop with your excuses?! I am being reasonable for once, and you are making me regret it!”

“I don’t think it would be wise,” Otto cuts in their bickering, and both princes turn to him.

He holds pause with a blank stare before a sly smile crawls out on his face.

“I would rather recommend the prince goes right away. We don’t want her family to make any rushed decisions,” their grandsire advises, earning a sign of relief from Aegon, who jumps out of his chair.

“We’re leaving this very second! Do I need to drag you out of your —”

“You do not,” Aemond stands up in a hurry — and then Aegon still grabs him by the hand, pulling his brother out of the room.

Alicent gazes fondly after them.

“It was very kind of you,” she says to her father without looking at him.

Otto thinks that, with how well you’ve been handling Aegon, marrying you to Aemond would be a blessing. Because gods know, he is fed up with them both.

On their way to the Dragonpit Aegon can barely hold back his excitement but his brother’s mind is clearly elsewhere. The older prince lets Aemond take time to gather his thoughts and doesn’t bother him along the road. But once they reach the cavernous building and both pop out of the carriage, Aegon decides some encouragement would be fitting.

“Have I ever told you how I met Y/N? That day at the feast?”

Mentioning your name always works wonders — Aemond turns to him in a flash.

“I was jesting around and she was the only one who didn’t laugh at my jokes. At all. Just stood there with a straight face and ignored me. Can you imagine?”

Aemond does know the unimpressed look you usually give Aegon, and it causes him to let out a dull chuckle.

“Took me good five minutes to even make her smile — and, frankly, my success didn’t last very long. Pretty sure half of my jokes landed flat. But you know what was the real issue?” Aegon’s smile is melancholic. “Most of the evening she kept asking about you.”

Aemond looks like the very epitome of heartbreak. Not only was he blind, he was also an idiot, he realizes.

“I know, I should’ve told you sooner,” Aegon gives him an apologetic look.

Aemond shakes his head:

“I should’ve told her sooner.”

“Well, it’s only been what, seven years?” his brother chortles weakly while the dragon keepers finally bring out Sunfyre, and the dragon casts Aemond a curious look.

Aegon approaches the beast first, running his hand over the scales that shine bright in the sunlight, and the prince can never get tired of that blinding beauty. But his excitement mingles with another feeling.

“I value Y/N’s friendship, you do know that, right?” he squints at Aemond, who simply nods.

“This is my way of saying that if you mess it up, I might push you off my dragon on our way back,” Aegon casually remarks, grabbing the rope to climb up.

Aemond falters with answering, reluctant to admit:

“There is a chance that I already messed it up.”

Aegon looks down at his brother and gives him a stern glare:

“Unmess it, then.” You don’t remember much from the past week, your days and nights blurred into one another. The only thing that stays on your mind is your father’s face — you can still see it so clearly, with his gentle gaze and his every wrinkle, the corners of his mouth always upturn like he’s a second away from smiling. You also remember how that face contorted in pain, how his body stiffened, and that scene plays on repeat in your head, over and over. And then there are only pieces of memories, torn and mushed together, and you can’t find it in yourself to sort them out.

You spend all your time at your father’s bedside, with a string of never-ending prayers falling from your lips. They don’t seem to help — and nor do the maester’s efforts, and you lose hope with each passing minute. As hours fly, you get a very bad feeling that soon turns into blood-curdling awareness. Deep down, you know what’s to come, and you hate yourself for it. You think you will never stop crying but by the time the maester declares your father’s demise, there are no tears left. Death has many faces — none of them looked at you with mercy.

Your mother wails, overtaken by despair, your sisters don’t leave her side, eyes puffy and full of sorrow, and you are sure that you look the same — yet you feel completely empty. There’s a cleft in a place of your heart, and all the feelings seemed to flow out, leaving you drained and emotionless, but it brings you no relief. Everything in your house reminds you of your father, his presence tangible in the rooms and in the halls, his image still as clear as a reflection in the mirror. The memories of him crawl out of every corner, seep from under the doors, fall on you along with the dust you brush off his things that you can’t make yourself take away.

Stacks of hardcovers with bookmarks in the middle.

The unfinished cup of wine.

The long grey coat hanging on the back of his chair.

Piles of letters left unanswered.

Parchments, ink and a quill that he will never use again.

All the pieces of him that you can’t look at, don’t want to look at — yet it’s all you see, and there’s is no hiding from it. You feel trapped in your own house, and you wait for the walls to collapse so maybe under the weight of them you will find some peace. You are restless in your grief, you are drowning in it.

The day of the funeral leaves a blank space in your memory, void of colors and sounds apart from everyone’s crying. The ceremony is rushed and there is only a handful of family members since your mother couldn’t bring herself to tell everyone yet. You don’t blame her for it — you think she’s too afraid to say it out loud, afraid that speaking the words will make them real, and she’ll have to finally accept his death. You have no problem with acceptance, you just don’t know how to move on. How to stay strong when you are shattered beyond repair.

Your home now feels like a coffin but everyone expects you to be in charge, so you force yourself to. Merely an hour after his body was buried in soil wet with rain, you find yourself sorting out his papers. You look through his diary, his scribbled notes, the calculations he made in attempts to stabilize the emptying coffers. He’s always been the responsible one, keeping count and cutting costs, planning for the future — and yet he’s been robbed of it. None of it makes sense to you and your father isn’t there to teach you. You clench your teeth in frustration, and it makes you want to put your head through a wall.

You push through the second and the third day. You give orders to the maids, who walk on eggshells around the house, sharing concerned looks. You take it upon yourself to bring meals to your mother and all but spoon-feed her so she at least will have some energy to get up from bed. She doesn’t — while you want nothing more than to get away. You’ve had a fair share of responsibilities your entire life but now there’s an abundance of them and it puts you in a chokehold, and you are all alone in your discomfort which brings you no respite at all.

On the fourth day you wake up feeling like the walls are closing in and you can’t breathe, the need to leave anchoring in your lungs. You don’t want to waste another second as you put on a coat right on top of your nightgown, frightened that each moment of stalling might lead to you being dragged into the same routine again. But the house is asleep, and the sun has barely risen when you tiptoe out of your room. You only wake up one maid, telling her you’ll go for a walk so your sudden absence doesn’t come off as a deed of cruelty.

You step outside and close the door behind your back, taking a slow, deep inhale. And just when the guilt is about to sneak up on you — you dart off into the morning fog.

The air is fresh and cooling against your skin as you run away from your house and through the trees, not minding the branches or the damp ground. You breathe the crisp air in, and it makes your body feel weightless, and you speed up, leaving no chance for the responsibilities to catch up with you. Patches of the forest, splattered with all shades of green, bushes and weeds that graze your knees — you pay them no attention as your feet carry you further away, up the hill, to the most remote place you can think of. You don’t know how long it takes for you to reach the narrow wooden bridge and cross the remaining field that ends with a cliff, but when you finally do, your feet ache and your lungs burn and you gulp air.

The sky is draped by the light layer of clouds but the blue of it stretches as far as the eyes can reach, and the movement of the sea can be seen in the distance. The morning is still with silence and it welcomes you, the fresh breeze encircling your body. The feeling of it isn’t gentle as the wind instantly bites every part of your skin that is covered with sweat. You should’ve worn thicker layers, you shouldn’t have rushed, maybe you shouldn’t have come at all — but you are too tired of thinking, of restrictions. Of yourself.

You let the cold seep in and pierce you to the marrow as you watch the waves meeting the horizon. You then close your eyes, hands coming up to cross over your chest. It’s an oblivion of some sort — with no demands and no tears, it’s only you and the wind. The empty space around you matches the emptiness in your heart, and the beating of it sounds like a hollow note. You feel nothing, you feel numb, but it’s so tranquilizing, you can’t help but give in, just to stop brooding for a few minutes — or maybe hours, you care not.

In this state of torpor, you almost miss the sound of wings cutting through the air. When you open your eyes, you only catch a shadow hidden by the clouds and a glimpse of gold but it’s still enough to guess. Sunfyre. At any other time, Aegon’s visit would’ve brought you joy yet right now it feels useless against the doldrums of your soul. At least your sisters will be happy to see him, you think, not having the slightest desire to move from your spot. The wind is now howling, the grass is rustling — and then the small measured sound joins the melody of nature. It sounds like someone’s approaching but their step is nearly noiseless. There is only one person who walks like that, and the realization brings you out of your trance.

You turn to Aemond before he can say anything, your gaze meeting his, and he immediately stands still. The distance between you is just like before, and you only now grasp the amount of time that has passed. You haven’t seen him in two weeks — and so much has changed, and nothing is the same — but when you look at Aemond, at every painfully familiar feature of his, your heart twinges. You really, really missed him, and it’s the first thing you feel in fourteen days.

He notes your lack of protest and hesitantly comes toward you, only pausing when he’s at arm’s length. His cheeks are flushed pink from the wind, the collar of his coat raised to the angles of his jaw.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” his tone is filled with sadness. “Even if you despise me.”

“I could never,” you mirror the words he once said but your voice comes out too quiet and blank.

There is only compassion and understanding in his gaze, and you are hungry for both, so you don’t break eye contact. He doesn’t, either, and reaches out a hand — it moves to your shoulder as he says:

“Y/N, I am so sor— ” when his fingers come in contact with you, Aemond suddenly stops talking, and his eye darts to your arm. There is a flicker of confusion on his face that quickly turns into worry.

“You are freezing,” he breathes out, and his worry grows stronger in an instant.

Aemond cautiously guides his hand up and down your arm — you see the movement, clear as day, but you don't feel it at all.

“I didn’t really notice,” you mumble.

You want to tell him that staying with your family drove you up the wall, that you lost sleep and the nights bring you no rest, that you accept your emptiness and loathe it. But the wind is still howling, your mind is clouded with exhaustion, and you are afraid that Aemond will get angry at you.

Instead, he pleads:

“Let me take you home,” he continues caressing your arm. “Please, let’s go back. You can’t — ”

“I don’t want to,” you retort, and all the unsaid words bubble up and pour out. “I could not stay there any longer, it was all too much, I needed a break, I — it just made me feel like...,” your skin finally absorbs the heat of his touch which sends goosebumps down your spine, and you get short of breath.

“Like I wanted to disappear,” you say, voice barely above the whisper.

Your confession hangs in the air, and you catch that same unreadable emotion in his eye. Three heartbeats later Aemond removes his hand, and the absence of it threatens to strip you of your short-lived comfort. But then he unbuttons his coat — and opens his arms to you:

“Disappear here.”

His words break the ice of your numbness, filling your lungs with air — so much of it, you almost feel light-headed. You are cold, and you are lonely, and you missed him. In a heartbeat you fall into his embrace, with the same force one may plummet down from a cliff — only instead of waves, you are welcomed by his warmth, and you instantly sink into it.

Aemond takes you under his coat, gently putting it over your body, and then holds you tight. You instinctively wrap your hands around his waist, nestling against his chest. Your cold palms glide over his shirt, and Aemond involuntarily shivers but doesn’t budge. He starts slowly stroking your back, and you soak up the calmness that radiates off him. His touch is soothing, quieting your mind, and you lose yourself in the serenity that it brings.

You are both lost in time, standing quietly, as your body gradually warms up and relaxes. You listen to his heartbeat, the rhythm of it even and lulling, and it makes you feel at peace.

When Aemond looks at you clinging to him, his heart swells with so much love, he can barely contain it.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It all happened so fast, I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. Everyone expects something from me now and I... I wish he was still here.”

“Your father was the kindest man I have ever met,” his voice is laced with sorrow. “I am so sorry you had to go through that. I should’ve come sooner but I only found out this morning.”

“And you came,” you remark delicately. “It’s all that matters.”

You snuggle up to him even more and relish in the feeling of his body close to yours, finding solace in it. You let yourself forget about everything else in the world, comforted by his kindness as he shields you from all the worries and the troubles of life.

“Whose idea was it to take Sunfyre?”

“Aegon’s,” the prince chuckles. “He was very persuasive, I’ll give him that.”

“Is he waiting for you on the hill?”

“He went to see your family, offer his condolences. And maybe complain a little since he didn’t particularly enjoy the flight.”

You try imagining the two of them squeezed into the saddle, and you know Aemond must’ve teased Aegon all the way to your house. You feel the tickling of laughter in your throat but it doesn’t go higher and then dissolves. Still, it’s a start.

“How much do you regret agreeing to that?”

Aemond pauses — and then his low voice vines through your hair:

“Right now, I don’t.”

You feel his heart skipping a beat, and for some reason, his pulse speeds up. You wonder what the reason may be, and your cheeks heat up when you are struck by the answer you can’t dare to hope for.

Or maybe you can.

“I’m not marrying Ser Lannister,” you blurt out, your own chest vibrating with anxiety.

Aemond pulls away just a bit, only to have a look at you.

“I heard about that,” he reveals. “He was never a good — ”

“You are under no obligation to say anything or do anything,” you cut him off, nervously lowering your gaze, because if he tries to pity you it will break your heart all over again, and you cannot bear it right now. “I just... I knew I would never love him. So I believe it’s only for the best.”

You keep babbling, but he hardly listens, his eye fixed on your face. Aemond isn’t sure you fully allow yourself to be this vulnerable with anyone. But it’s his favorite side of yours — with your bashful sincerity, your overly complicated explanations that he understands with ease, your habit of talking with hands, with your searching gaze and your eyes bright with life. It’s all the little things that he adores.

It’s what makes his feelings finally spill over.

“...But we don’t need to talk about it, you don’t need to say anyth— ”

His touch is so gentle, you barely register when Aemond puts a finger beneath your chin, lifting your head to look at him — and then suddenly his lips cover yours. His mouth is even warmer than his hands, and he gives you a couple of seconds to make sure you won’t pull away. And then he starts kissing you, slowly and steadily, in a way you could only dream of.

Aemond gently cradles your head, his lips are soft and ardent — they meld with yours, and time freezes and sounds fade as you melt into the kiss, into his touch. And at that moment nothing else matters. You are wrapped in his tenderness, the ocean of feelings flooding your body, and he enters your heart like he owns it. He always did.

Aemond is the one to break the kiss, sensing that you are gasping for air. You slowly open your eyes in a daze, as if you’ve been awoken from a dream.

“I will take care of everything,” he affirms, his mouth still only a couple of inches away. “You do not have to worry about a thing.”

One of your hands moved on top of his chest, and you feel that his heart rate is back to normal. The pounding of it pulls you back to reality.

“You mean that?” you whisper. “Aemond, I don’t have that much to offer.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a trail of light kisses up to your temple.

“You have everything a man can wish for,” he reassures you, and his gaze finds yours again. “Everything I have ever wished for.”

The prince takes your face between his hands, and his thumbs follow the contours of your cheeks.

“Even in a room full of art I can only look at you,” Aemond murmurs, his words are flamelike and go straight to your heart, making it flutter.

Only now you notice that the sun emerged from the clouds, and the golden light illuminates everything around you. You bask in it as well as in Aemond’s affection — and he makes you feel seen, safe, cared for. Loved.

“That was very poetic of you,” you tilt your head and lean closer to him.

“I agree with poets on one thing — we have no control over who we love. But I have never regretted loving you,” he can’t stop himself from placing a kiss on the edge of your mouth. “And if I had to choose, it would still be you.”

When you meet his gaze, this time you read it with ease — and you are sure it’s a mere reflection of your own. An overwhelming feeling sweeps over and spreads through you. But the ocean is calm, and you are not cold anymore — and Aemond does love you, after all.

You feel your mouth quirk in a smile, genuine and a very happy one. Aemond presses his forehead to yours and promises:

“From now on, you will always be my first choice,” and then you see him trailing for your lips.

And you believe him.

the taglist: @greenowlfactif, @mischiefmanaged71, @pasta-rask, @imjustboredso, @iiamthehybrid, @m00n5t0n3, @crispmarshmallow, @bellaisasleep, @aemondssuit, @ipadkidsworld, @itisjustwhatitis, @maximizedrhythms, @fckwritersblock, @hiatuswhore, @fantasyreader130, @bibli0thecary, @teapartydreams, @kyuupidwrites, @thelittleswanao3 (I couldn't tag some of you for whatever reason, so I'll just message you guys)

yep, it's me again!

the title is someone’s quote (I have no idea where it's from, pls help a girl out)

“Disappear here” are Jonathan Carroll’s words that have been engraved in my memory for years and they just popped into my head while I was writing in a haste and only then I realized wait, technically it's a quote, you can’t do that?! but guess what, I already did! I also tried to rephrase these two words but it looked weird so I’m letting you know that I suck as a writer

the bit when she babbles and he looks smitten with her — I couldn't help but think of that scene from “North and South” (it screams Aemond to me!)

I imagined the cliff to look like this 🍃

I originally planned to turn the romance down just a notch ’cause I already have 4 sappy fics and I wanted this one to be more “realistic” but… oh well, me and romance go hand in hand, apparently.

you will see this version of Aegon more often because I enjoyed it immensely!

what do you guys think? I truly hope that wasn’t disappointing! comments and opinions are VERY welcome! 🥺 ✨ my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

1K notes · View notes

sunfyresrider · 1 month

Text

*ೃ༄SACRILEGE | AEGON II TARGARYEN

✧Synopsis. You’d been sent to Valea Zalanului, Transylvania to aid a church in desperate need of sisters of the faith. Since you arrived your faith has been constantly tested and the priest himself stirs nothing but unease within you.

✧Content. 18+nsfw ahead, Old English, vampire!priest, fem!reader, “blood letting”, confessional, provocative thoughts/dreams, vampire cult?, blasphemy, sacrilege,“father”, corruption kink, smut, m/f cunnilingus, pnv. WC. 6.3k

✧Translations. Wot- know, Gramercy- thanks, Hast- have, Hath- had, Thou - you, ‘I- in, Dost/Doth- do, Thy- your, Tis- it is, Merely- solely/only, Beray- reveal, Aye- always/ever, Ere- before

✧Note. anddddd we’re back. I haven’t been writing enough in the last few months so I am rusty. FYI the plot moves fast, this was originally just meant to be a short smut. Tags. @criticallybella @etherial-moon-blog @xylianasblog

Valea Zalanului,

Transylvania,

1480

You had been sent on a journey to join and aid in a new church far from home. A little village twenty some miles from the nearest city in desperate need for a priest and sisters of the faith. You hadn’t minded traveling the distance, albeit the chill from the soon to pass winter season made it all the harder. The town itself was even smaller than you assumed, a grandiose church sat in the middle of around thirty very simple dwellings. The wood, straw and stone was much different from the entirely stone city you were blessed to be born into.

Valea Zalanului had a certain charm about it that most large settlements lacked, natural beauty. God had taken extra time to craft the hills and forests surrounding it. Unfortunately, you’d be inside the church for most of your stay here. Which might not be a horrible thing considering many lives had been lost due to disease, a child who made it past three was considered a blessing. Not to mention the wars that raged on throughout the country.

Your heart ached with excitement at the idea of being a part of this place and helping the people who lived here.

You noticed that even though it was shrouded in beauty every face you passed seemed grim and the town itself was droll in comparison to ones you visited previously. In all honesty, and god forgive you for saying this, you’d find more cheerful faces during a funeral.

As you began to ascend the steps to the church you were immediately greeted by two sisters, one was much shorter than the other, her face soft and fresh, the other was tall and sharp. The elder seemed less pleased to greet you as she stood a distance, observing you carefully. The younger girl stepped forward and bowed slightly before taking your hands.

"Thou might not but be our new sister! welcome, I be sister Marishka, the one standing yonder is sister Aleera!” Her voice was sweet and her excitement was evident. “Pleased to compose thy acquaintance Mariska,” you smiled earnestly, “And sister Aleera.” Her eyes bore into you and you waited with bated breath for her judgment. None came, only a single nod and a knowing look to Mariska.

“Don’t let her fright thou, that little nod means she approves. Aleera is normally quite welcoming, it’s just these days hast been busy.” Your face betrayed you as it showed your surprise, the town seemed too empty to have a lot of traffic. “Truly?”

“Oh yes, many of the sisters that hast traveled hither were disappointing to say the least. Not to mention the sheer numbers of victims of war and famine that hast graced our steps… This winter hath been much worse than 'i the past.” You glanced around, observing your surroundings for all the people she spoke of but none were found. Perhaps that had all passed away while in their care or sent away for whatever reason.

A strange feeling began to creep up your spine. You could not place what it was or why it was but it was very much present. Your head whipped back to the door where Aleera was beckoning you inside, an arm wrapped around your own, paired with the brightest smile you’d ever seen. She had practically dragged you inside, gawking at the new ceiling fixtures. It grew ever darker the further you moved inside, save the one grandiose stained glass window depicting the crucifixion.

For how busy she claimed it to be, the church seemed rather empty. It felt chilled, more so than the outside and instead of oak the building was made of stone. Her chatterings were lost on you as you took it all in. There was something greatly lacking, overshadowed by a presence you could not name. It almost felt as if this building was a costume, built to resemble a sacred place. You nearly began to regret auctioning yourself to a newer place, perhaps adventure was not suited for you.

A light nudge to your waist drew you out of your stupor, gazing incredulously at Marishka. Her voice was still hushed as you turned to look upon, what you could only presume was the acting priest. He looked far younger than what you expected, messy platinum hair framing his baby-esque face. His smile was bright, yet his eyes were a stark contrast. They were drowned in a hue of violet, shrouded with a cloud of something you could not pinpoint.

His lips moved and you still could not hear, you were far too focused on how his attire was not in the proper size. “Mine mind seems to be elsewhere, please forgive me. What was it thou spoke?” He chuckled silently to himself, your disrespect of his status seemed to amuse him.

"Never fret, thy journey hath been long and i presumed thou had been exhausted. I’m father Aegon, the current and hopefully 'i the foreseeable future priest.” His accent was heavy and foreign, British, not something you had heard often. You bowed slightly, hand pressed against your chest as you greeted him.

"Mine name is-” Father Aegon waved his hand, “I wot thy name and all the important details. I’ve been 'i close communication with thy sect and we feel most blessed to hast thou” His smile felt unnerving, unusually sharp at the tips of his mouth. You could almost swear his teeth were whiter than most, though dental hygiene was not a common practice.

His eyes, on the other hand, were strange. You’d never seen such a color before nor been enchanted into gazing at them. It seemed you could become lost in the depths, if only for a moment. Your silence must have been off putting because Marshika seemed to grip you harder. “Alright, Methinks mine sister hath had too much excitement for today. I shall guide her to her chambers.” Father Aegon nodded, a silent understanding passed between them.

You struggled to find sleep after today's odd welcoming. After mindlessly reading through the weathered pages of a Bible you’ve owned since a child you blew out the singular candle in your room. You settled under the thin blanket and turned your back to the window.

The moon was full tonight. It bathed your whole room in its pale light, creating odd shadows from your belongings. Your eyes were trained on the window across the room. The howling sounds of wind began lulling you to sleep like a corrupted lullaby.

Everything will be okay, you told yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. God will guide me through this, you murmured as you finally drifted off into slumber…

The sudden feeling of your bed being weighed down stirred you awake, but when you tried to move your body became limp. You glanced up to see a figure on all four limbs climbing onto the bed, dazzling red eyes boring into yours as it moved above you. A beast, one that seemed to be plucked out of hell itself. Your blood ran cold, the pounding of your heart echoing in your eardrums as its clawed, beastly hands slowly descended upon you.

You could neither scream nor move, as if you had been held down by an invisible weight and gagged by an unknown object. Your eyes squeezed shut, praying, begging for some sort of escape. Dear Lord art in heaven, whatever sin I may have committed or performed against you, dear god have mercy on me.

A soft pair of lips touched your collarbone, kissing against your trembling skin gently. You felt the devil above you shift, the horrid hands changing into ones that carefully caressed you. Blasphemy, you thought bitterly. How could such a heinous creature use such loving, familiar gestures? And yet, the hands and lips brought a strange warmth that calmed the tense muscles in your body and eased the erratic beats of your heart.

Your eyes began to pry themselves open, a flash of silver hair just hovering in your field of view. The smell of wine and a strange hint of musk entice your senses, the image growing clearer by the second. It was not the nightmarish shape you had seen before. Instead, a beautiful, gorgeous being that lulled you to another world with his hands.

Priest Aegon? No, not him, it couldn’t be.

His kisses did not cease, instead trickled down to your collarbone. His fingers inching onto your breasts, massaging into the tender flesh. You were not in your right mind, thoughts beginning to form and protest kept slipping away. It felt too good to fight it. Surely, this man is god in disguise.

The father’s lips pressed into that of your breast, his tongue ghosting your nipple. Your breath hitched, the feeling alone almost is enough to send you into convulsions. However, you were abruptly pulled from the haze, a sharp sensation pricked at your breast. With sudden clarity you peered down to see the priest sinking his teeth into your breast.

You jolted awake, eyes flying open and hands grasping at the spot where he bit you. You were in your room, alone, but you still were reeling from the dream. You heard the soft chirping of chaffinches and the soft rustling of the leaves. The normally comforting sounds of day instead brought a sense of dread in the air, as if the nightmare that visited you had left an imprint on the atmosphere.

As you remove yourself from bed and began washing yourself in front of the mirror you noticed A thin sheen of sweat coated your brow, and when you shifted you felt an odd ache between your legs. Worry began to nestle within your chest, could the lord see your dreams? Will he know about the vile, carnal, utterly strange thoughts that came to you?

You had neither had intentions to act on anything nor the carnal desire others held. You would repent for this, pray for forgiveness and to banish the image from your mind entirely. Out of thought, out of mind, you repeat to yourself in your mind as you readied yourself.

It’s important to note each house of God has different rules, in this one they are extremely picky about who they allow to work inside. Though it was increasingly clear it desperately needed some changes. To start, proper sleeping areas and a better way to heat the stone building. Perhaps more windows as well, it was extremely dark inside, midday felt more like midnight.

Everyone had made themselves scarce after breakfast, a small meal of bread and cheese that the farmers were kind enough to provide the church. It was a Sunday which meant communion would be held later in the evening. You attempted to make yourself busy in the meanwhile traveling around the town to feel out the people, culture and whatnot. It’s very important to know whom you would be spreading the word of the lord to.

The hallways within the cathedral were dimly lit, torches lined the walls instead of the usual decorative windows. There were few people around during the day and you encountered none of them. It seemed eerily empty, lacking something you could not put a name to. The wooden floorboards creaked as you walked across them and the grandiose door made a wicked screeching noise as you pried them open.

You felt lighter as you stepped outside, you felt lighter as you stepped outside, as if a weight was lifted from your shoulders and the dust no longer filled your airways. How odd, you thought to yourself, no house of God had made you feel like that before. You shook your head, starting your venture outside the confines of your home. The sleet had turned the soil into mud and the clouds remained dreary but at least the sun was starting to peak over the distant clouds.

Without hesitation you made your way through town, taking note of the way people eyed you suspicious and the caution everyone exuded while walking around the church. A scrawny man with a scraggly beard and rotting clothes strode towards your direction, probably going to visit the single alcohol serving establishment. You decided to attempt to speak to him, “excuse me, sir?”

He seemed completely uninterested as he avoided meeting your eyes. “S-sir? Doth thou hast a instant-” The man paused in his steps, turning around to meet your face. “You’re new, aren’t thou? Shipped 'i from another country i'd wager.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glad he was willing to converse. “Only a few countries away,” you lightly jested.

He let out a sigh of disappointment, almost gazing at you with pity in your eyes. “If you’re as smart as thou sound, sister, i would turn tail and flee.” Before you could muster up the courage to ask him why, the man continued. "Aye since that priest came around everything’s been strange. Don’t say to me thou haven’t noticed aught?” You opened your mouth to return the sentiment, perhaps ask more questions, but the sound of the church bells caught you off guard, the bells signaling the start of service. The man gave you a curt nod before continuing his trek.

You nearly fell over yourself trying to walk back to your temporary home. The doors were open, though there was hardly any people inside. Just as you stepped through the threshold you heard the doors close, the heavy wood clanging together loudly and shutting you out. A sudden wave of panic hit you, instead of feeling safe locked away in the house of god, you felt panicked.

You kept your head down as you walked to the front, seating yourself farthest from the altar. You closed your eyes, readying yourself for opening prayer.

“We gramercy, our father, for that life which thou've discovered to us by jesus, thy son, by whom thou made all things, and take care of all of the world-”

The insistent pounding of your heart beat berated your eardrums, drowning out the flurry of voices around you. A part of you worried someone could read your mind, see what you saw last or heard the distrust for your church evident in your innermost thoughts. No longer did you feel pure enough to partake in any ceremony and if you could, you would flee to your chambers.

“Eternal god, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may eat 'i remembrance of the corporal agent of thy son, and witness thee, o god.”

You were drawn back to the start of the communion, realizing you must have blacked out to miss so much. It felt as if time moved differently, you could swear you had just sat down.

“Holy God, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this wine to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may posset 'i remembrance of the blood of the lord which was shed for 'em”

Father Aegon’s voices boomed and bounced against the stone walls. It resounded in your head, as if it had come from within. You watched with careful eyes as the followers of Christ walked the aisles, one by one lining up in front of him. It was your turn now to stand and retake communion, as was required of nuns who moved sects. A part of you wanted to just sit and not join the line, but the fear of being shamed was far greater than the woe.

Your legs felt weak as you stood, your muscles nearly denying your pleas to move. You felt guilt weighing down your soul, as if divine punishment was awaiting. You shuffled along, eyes casted towards the ground as you gripped your dress. The Father was looking at, you could feel his eyes as you moved forward. From the tone of his voice he appeared disinterested in every other participant. Nervously, you stepped onto the last step, his form looming over you.

Father Aegon’s eyes bore into yours as they glimmered, unnatural they were, but he would just deny the accusation. He presented the host, and carefully he placed it in your mouth. His eyes studied the way your tongue nervously peeked out of your mouth, the way your large pupils stared into his own with such innocence and devotion.

Aegon imagined you would look even better on your knees.

“The body of Christ,” he proclaimed as he studied the way your throat moved as you swallowed the host. “Amen,” you mumbled out so quietly even his advanced set of ears struggled to hear. Your eyes watched him carefully as he turned to pass the chalice of wine to you. Quite the attentive little thing you were.

A moment later, he handed you the chalice with a light smile. The golden cup was unsteady as your hands trembled for an unknown reason. A strange feeling continued to creep up your spine as you lost yourself in his gaze. Perhaps it was due to the fact you hadn’t seen a man with his appearance in your entire life. If you were allowed to think such, he could be considered devastatingly beautiful.

The liquid slipped from the chalice and into your mouth. Instead of the warmth of Christ coating your senses, you felt your throat constrict and a harsh itch causing you to choke. You nearly dropped the holy cup to the floor as you tried to force yourself to swallow, his hand caught it before it could hit the floor, eyebrows raised as he studied you closely, listening to the rapid beat of your heart.

It burned in an unfamiliar way, as if you were being poisoned, and soon the taste of the communion wine coated your mouth with its putrid flavor you weren’t used to. Panic settled in your veins as your mind raced with explanations, fear of damnation.

Aegon smiled a small, amused grin which caught you off guard. He looked deeply into your eyes, his own burning with a mix of hunger as one hand slowly rose to wipe the wine from your lip. You couldn't look away as he brought his finger to his mouth and licked the liquid away, humming lowly. “Tastes like shit, doesn’t it?”

Your breath caught in your throat as your mouth gaped in shock. This was your Lord's blood, this was a sacred ceremony. How could he say something so vulgar. Aegon cleared his throat, lazily moving his hands to make the sign of the cross. “The blood of Christ,” he spoke louder than necessary. “Amen.”

You bowed your head, fingers gripping tightly onto the hem of your dress as you scurried away. The rest of mass you sat in utter silence, your gaze casted onto the floor. What the hell was happening to you? You had accidentally disassociated throughout the rest of communion, whatever prayers and hymns were sung you did not hear. You denied Marishka’s invitation to supper, instead running straight to your room to find solace in isolation.

Sleep once again eluded you the night after communion. It did not matter how much you tossed and turned, the sheets felt suffocating and your blood burned beneath your skin. Each time you began to drift your mind wandered where it shouldn’t, thoughts you hadn’t had before crept into your subconscious. Why did you choke? You’d never done anything like that before.

It felt as if the wine itself was rejecting you, deeming you unholy and not worthy of swallowing it. That terrified you, what had you done to deserve such a punishment? Nothing, you’ve done nothing in your existence that was against neither god nor man. You sat in bed, tearing the cloth that shielded you from prying eyes. It was better, but it was not enough. You swiftly leaned over in bed, pushing the tiny window up so the cold air could enter. Finally, your lungs seemed to inhale deeper, a blanket of ice wrapping around your flesh and easing the constant heat.

Out of thought and out of mind you murmured to yourself as you laid back down, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought-

In your dreams you mindlessly roamed the halls, drawn to an unknown location. Through the darkness you eyed a crack in a doorway, golden light emitting into the hallways. You stalked closer, carefully angling yourself so you could peek inside without being caught. It took you a moment to recognize the sounds, quiet giggles, panting breaths, soft murmurs, and vulgar noises coming from a female. It made your skin crawl.

You could make out three figures on the lavish bed, which you noted was much more posh than your own. Their bodies intertwined around each other and fully nude. There was something strange about it, each of them were glistening as if their skin was damp with water. Quietly, you sunk to your knees, bending your neck so you could truly focus in. As your pupil dilated, your mouth gaped in shock, thank god no noise came out.

They were there, you mean, the sisters and a strange man were all there. Their skin covered in what you could only assume was blood due to the red tint and they were… coupling. Or were they devouring him? Quickly you rose to your feet, silently scurrying away to not draw attention. Your heart raced as you neared your chambers, reaching your hands out into the darkness grasping for salvation.

Your body collided with something hard, arms reaching around to blindly grab hold of it. The pale moonlight illuminated the silver locks adorning his head, violet eyes and white teeth glowing against the dark. Priest Aegon. You looked back down in shame, your eyes had deceived you. You were not in the halls, no. Instead, in his chamber.

“Are thou alright, sister?” He asked in a gentle voice, a hand resting on your cheek, caressing the warm skin. You aren’t sure why your body refused to move or why your hands refused to release their hold on him. It felt as if your blood had turned into lead, weighing you down. Your eyes trailed up to his face, purposefully avoiding the lack of clothing or cotton bottoms he adorned which hid nothing.

“I- Methinks I was sleepwalking.”

Aegon’s fingers pulled your chin up, the corner of his lip tugging into a grin. Your brain was a fog, a mist, unable to process what was happening. He was leaning in, and the smell of wine and musk blinded your sense. You felt his lips brush past your ear, a chill running down your spine.

“And thy subconscious brought thou to me. Could it be that you’ve been dreaming of me?” The words were whispered like a secret, a taboo, a forbidden thing. Aegon’s words enticed you, which they shouldn’t, it is immoral and sinful. Your heart raced at the thought, “yes,” you breathed out.

Your hand reached up to rest against his bare chest, feeling his heart thump in the same erratic pace. “I’ve been dreaming of thou too, little lamb.” A hand found its way to your neck, his lips grazing over yours as he spoke. “Each time, thou devote yourself to me merely and i consume thou wholly. Keeping thou inside me eternally.” Your stomach flipped, a tightness building in the pit of your abdomen. It was sinful, it was wrong, it was utterly obscene.

And yet you sunk further into him, lips parting and inviting him to ravish you. His hands slipped under your dress, cupping your bottom and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, his cock pressing against your sensitive region. Aegon climbed on top in a familiar way, his soft lips dancing with yours.

Your head felt fuzzy and light, the sensation of his touch overwhelming and euphoric. You lost control of yourself, abandoning the vows and purity you swore. You were so lost, consumed by lust and sin. He pressed his hips against yours, rubbing against you. Aegon’s lips trailed down your jaw, peppering kisses along your neck.

He moved away from you and for a moment you mourned his touch, yearning to have him close to you once more. You observed him with lidded eyes as he kneeled down between your thighs. He was beautiful, a divine image of an angel sent to heal you. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as your scent, little lamb.” The father muttered before pushing up the skirts of your dress, he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.

The warmth of his breath tickling the most sacred area. His strong hands gripped your thighs, holding them down. Aegon licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves into your body. You couldn't help but completely lose yourself to him. You never imagined such pleasure could be given, and by a man of god.

The father's tongue circled your clit, sucking on it gently. Aegon pulled away and pushed a finger inside you, a quiet gasp escaped your lips, a foreign pleasure spreading through you. He began to pump his finger in and out of you, curling his fingers, stroking a bundle of nerves that sent electricity through your body.

Your head began to spin, pleasure consuming your every thought. A pressure began to build within you, an indescribable sensation that only grew. His tongue traced intricate patterns onto your core, suckling on the sensitive bundle. ”p-please father,” you begged, though you were not sure what. Aegon chuckled and the vibrations made your eyes roll in the back of your skull. Your sense of reality had all but abandoned you, your head was stuck in the cloud as if you had ascended to heaven.

You felt your body shake and the tension in your abdomen snap. It was as if your soul was torn out of you, the euphoria so intense it was almost painful. You felt dazed, lost in a trance, and unable to move. However, as you glanced up you no longer saw your angelic priest.

Instead, a demon gazed down upon you. The beautiful face now morphed into a twisted image, fangs protruding from its jaw, and eyes glowing a sinister crimson. Its mouth opened, a forked tongue slipping out and licking a path up your thigh. Your mind started to clear, terror seeping its way in your heart, and before you could scream for help it sunk its fangs deep within the flesh.

knock knock

You jolted awake, grabbing the skin around your neck and chest as your frantic breathing cut through the silence. It was only a nightmare, you muttered to yourself. You shifted in place, feeling something cool beneath your bum. Gazing down at the creased sheets, the sight of a sopping wet spot on the cloth made your stomach churn.

knock knock knock

“Sister! Tis time to wake!” The door handle wiggled, the sound of locks echoed throughout the room. “Y-yes, sister!” Hurriedly you rushed to the water basin to try and clean off the sinful stain, but as you stood your head began to pound. It was as if a needle pricked at the backs of your eyes. To add further to the misery, an instant dizziness overtook you as your legs buckled beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground.

Horror flooded into your veins, was this a divine punishment for what happened in your thoughts? It was pure carnal desire, a disgusting and immoral craving. This was a divine warning, a sign that if you don't rectify your sins soon you will be punished. You scrambled to your feet, putting on the clothes necessary to venture to the altar and pray for forgiveness.

You flung open the door and hurried out, leaving a bewildered sister behind. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, passing a group of befuddled visitors in your wake. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of your actions began to crush you. As soon as you reached the altar seating in front of the statue of God himself you fell to your knees.

The sickness he has placed upon you was a warning, the dreams you were having were cursed. You felt as if eyes were always watching, a shadow lurking around every corner. The walls seemed to be closing in on you, the air thick with regret. You bowed your head, clasping your hands together in front of you.

You prayed on your knees every day for the next week. Each night you dreamt of him, he was a devil, a temptress pulling you into sin. You had to rid yourself of the thoughts. Each day, you would pray, and each night you would dream. Your own mind began eating itself alive, the constant fear and paranoia taking its toll on your body. There wasn’t a day in the past weeks where you did not feel exhausted or sickly.

It was only an amount of time before you fell from grace, perhaps died from stress. You have felt like an animal hiding in the skin of a holy nun. No matter how many times you scrubbed yourself, you still felt the filth from your nights. It was only a matter of time until they found out, until the others saw. It was past time you confessed to your crimes and beg the lord directly for forgiveness, you could let these ill feelings fester no longer.

You’d never had to take a confessional in your life except for when you first became a sister. Since then, you have remained in good standing. It was an awkward thing, especially since the only confessor was the priest. You knew you could tell him anything, he was the voice of god, yet a larger part of you was frightened too.

The idea of seeing him, knowing what you dreamt, was terrifying. But you had no choice, you needed to seek repentance, or else your mind would eat itself alive. As you walked to the confessional, a familiar feeling of eyes burning holes in the back of your skull followed. You begrudgingly pushed through, waltzing towards the steps of the lord. It was darker than usual, the storm brewing outside mimicking your internal warfare. The quiet cracks of distant lighting illuminating the statue of Christ, in a haunting way.

It lacked a confessional, though one was being built in the far side of the room, until the carpenter disappeared. Unfinished and unused it sat and a part of you envied it, for now you felt sullied. The soft pitter patter of footsteps approaching from the hall echoed throughout the chapel, growing closer. A lump formed in your throat, nerves eating you from the inside. You felt him kneel next to you, his head tilting to gaze at you. “Come to confess, little lamb?” His words came out in a purr. The script you had rehearsed vanished into the void and your mouth dried up. “How’d thou wot?”

Aegon raised a hand and tucked a stray hair under your veil. “I’ve taken notice of thy ailments as I hast taken notice of the lack of thy presence. I wot all that goes on inside these walls.”

“Then I suppose I hast no choice,” you sucked in a deep breath, chewing at your bottom lip. Aegon beckoned you to continue, his face laced with curiosity and understanding. “Forgive mine, Father for I hast sinned,” the words rushed out of your throat. “I hast been having dreams of late. The most intricate and vivid dreams I hast had ere. 'i mine sleepless nights I see things that I shouldn’t and doth things with thou that are deemed unholy. I betray mine God and worship only thou. ” You released the breath you were holding, awaiting his response.

He moved closer to you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. "Tis not wrong to worship I, his voice and his will join through me. I grant thou what he not, if only thou speak to me.” Aegon’s violet eyes gleamed, and his smile divine yet twisted. “Wouldst thou like to live eternally? Wouldst thou like to feel ecstasy?”

“What will you from me?” The words left you silently, your own voice unrecognizable to your ear. "Remove thy dress as I will guide thou thumb," His hand slipped from the veil and caressed the soft skin of your cheek, a thumb grazing your lips. His hand caressed yours, his warm touch sinking your mind further into the clouds. At first, you moved away, some semblance of sense still lingering within.

“Dost thou not desire what I giveth freely?” Aegon’s eyes were so magnetic, pulling you closer into his gravity. You could not deny him, nor did you want to. You shook your head quietly, beckoning him to continue. He guided your hands to the string lacing together your blouse, pulling them apart. One by one the threads popped, a slow and tantalizing pace. The fabric slid off your shoulders, exposing the tender skin underneath. Your heart beat flurried, some remnant of holiness trying to will you to stop. “Such beautiful skin thou hast,” Aegon murmured, his nose brushing against your neck.

A soft kiss was pressed into the side of your neck, his teeth lightly dragging along the flesh. You gasped, your eyes closing. You were lost in a fog, unable to think clearly or make rational decisions. Father Aegon guided your hands to the waist of his skirt, slowly pulling it down. Your eyes shot open, watching his cock spring free from the cloth.

The tip was a soft pink, one large vein running down the middle. You were clueless as to what to do. You felt his fingers slip under your veil, gripping onto your hair. “I will guide thy mouth,” he purred, as if he read your mind. Father Aegon stood up, “like this,” his hand guided yours, stroking him slowly.

You leaned in, pressing your lips against the tip, the skin velvety and hot. Your tongue darted out, licking his tip. You could feel him throb within your grip, his eyes glazing over with lust. Father Aegon pushed your head down, forcing the head past your lips.

His hips began to rock, pushing deeper into your mouth. It was difficult not to choke, the saliva in your mouth gathering quickly. The sounds of his pleasure were like choirs of angels to your ears, serenading you into a trance. Your jaw ached, drool dribbling down the side of your mouth and the length of him.

He pushed your head down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes welled with tears and he admired their glistening beauty. You were utterly perfect for him, he decided, a divine blessing. You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but the dull ache between your legs blinded you. A few small whimpers escaped your throat as you dropped your hand to ease the feeling between your thighs. Aegon released your head, a strand of spit connecting his cock and your lips.

Father Aegon gripped your cheek, colliding his lips with yours. He devoured you as if it was his last meal, as if your lips were the sole path to redemption. His tongue darted out, swirling around your mouth and relishing in your sweet taste. Your mind grew hazy, lack of breath making you dizzy, but you could not pull back. You had desired his touch more than you have ever before.

You whimpered into his mouth, the feeling of his body pressed against yours was indescribable. His firm hands gripped your waist, pushing you on the ground. “Thou look so ethereal underneath me,” he panted out in between breaths. “Wouldst thou like to feel me inside thee.” Aegon rubbed his cock against your heat, your juices coating him.

“P- please Father, I need thou,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his torso pulling him closer. “Needy little lamb, aren’t thou?” His cock pressed into, slowly stretching you to fit him. You let out a moan, a sound you didn’t know you could make. Your fingers found their way into his dress shirt, gripping onto him as he pushed himself inside you.

“Confess sister, how did you allow me to defile you,” he thrusted inside you, filling you completely. You could not think straight, his cock hitting the bundle of nerves that made you squirm. “Confess,” he beckoned before he began slipping himself out of you. “N-no I confess,” you whimpered. Aegon began to slam back into you, a rhythmic pace that made you see stars.

“I- I confess father, I let thou defile me, I dream of thou fingers inside m-” Aegon suckled on your ear, “more,” he growled. “I- I- I dream of your tongue bringing me p- pleasure- every night.” He thrusted into you harder, the sounds of his cock slamming inside you echoing.

He was a god, a divinity sent to bring you to madness and bliss. Aegon had bewitched you body, mind, and soul as you him. “I dreamt thou devouring me,” you screamed out, your legs shaking. Aegon grabbed your hips, digging his nails into the skin to keep you in place. “Wouldst thou like to stay with me forever?” The father’s hips snapped as he pushed deep inside, his cock pulsating. You could feel him inside your womb, his hand pressing down on your lower stomach to feel himself.

Your head spun as the coil inside you began to unwind, the intensity of ecstasy blurring your being. “Y- yes Aegon,” you whimpered out, tears welling in your eyes. His thrusts began to stutter, his pace faltering. Your cunt tightened around him,the muscles in your stomach clenched as a wave of pleasure began to overcome you. “Dost thou swear thyself to me forever,” he whimpered.

“Aegon!” you screamed out, eyes fluttering open. The coil in your stomach snapped, eyes widening moments before you saw his fangs sink into your neck…

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