#Aemond targaryen x rivers!reader

[theghooligan]

daemon and all the ghosts of harrenhall living it up every night:

[urdeftonesgrrrl]

me when people call Aemond a coward for fleeing a 3v1 when Rhaenyra was too scared to go against Aemond in a 1v1:

[xxnymeriatargaryenxx]

your husband aemond dirty talking in your ear in high valyrian 💘💘💘

you have no idea what he is saying, but after each word… he accentuates his thrusts 😩 his head is buried in the crook of your neck biting down on the soft sensitive skin as you feel his white hot warmth fill you

[fioiswriting]

The lust we share

Summary : When your husband takes you to Harrenhal, you meet his lover. And things don't turn out the way you thought they would.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x reader, Alys Rivers x Reader, Aemond x Reader x Alys

TW : pwp, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, light angst, threesome, unprotected sex, breeding kink (implied), praising kink, loss of virginity,  not proofread.

Words count : 3652

AN : hi everyone!! How are you doing ? SO I know. I know I should be working on all my other works in progress BUT I had this idea and…Well. I had to write this. Who else is excited to see Alys??? Btw I’ve finished my exams and my internship, so I should have more time to write <3

Sorry, it’s filthy. As always. 

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

From the moment you see her, you're mesmerised by her striking beauty, which makes her mysterious and dangerous. There's something intriguing about her gaze, as if she's reading through you, and it sends shivers down your spine every time. She seems to pierce your soul, deciphering your deepest secrets, leaving you both entranced and unsettled. She moves with a graceful confidence, her long black curls bouncing behind her. You don't know where to look. She's mesmerising. Your gaze is relentlessly drawn back to her.  She has curves where you don't.  A confidence you don't have.

You can only see in her what you lack in yourself, and in a way, you understand Aemond.

But Alys is surprisingly gentle with you. Her eyes show a kind of pity. You were nervous, frightened, and the edges of your thumbs can testify to that.  After all, Alys is the other woman. Or maybe it's you, the other woman. Alys was there before you, after all. And she exudes a confidence, a poise, a maturity that you'll never be able to match, as if she were able to bend anyone or anything to her will. You can see why they say she's a witch. 

With you it's different. Alys is patient. You just don't like the pitying tone she uses when she talks to you, as if you were a frail little thing to be pitied, as if she's afraid to break you – but you're no doll. You're not made of glass. You don't need pity. She knows you had no choice. You were forced to follow your husband to Harrenhal.  Maybe that’s why she pities you.

She wonders how you manage to stay by his side, when you know the horrors he's committed, and it's something you wonder too. Every step he takes is made of ashes and blood, and you know the cries still haunt the walls of Harrenhal.  The blood is probably still fresh, soaking the cobblestones.

She's made a habit of brushing your hair, stroking your long curls, cradling you and talking to you, and there's something comforting about the way she mothers you. You seek solace in her arms, when your husband is distant. At least you are not alone.

Your marriage to Aemond is recent. She listens as you confide in her and caresses your head. You are young and frightened, and you know the King needed an alliance to continue the war - your father had military and financial support to offer him.  Marrying into the Targaryen family is a privilege no one can refuse. And especially not when your husband is the Prince Regent.

"Does he treat you well?" Your gaze meets hers in the mirror, but you are quick to look away. There's something too sincere in looking into her eyes. You feel as if she can see into your soul, read the truth, reveal your secrets, and that makes you uncomfortable. 

" He's cold. Distant," you reply. Because it's true, Aemond is caught up in the gears of war, and he doesn't have much time for you, but you accept the place he's given you.  He has a need to control, you've noticed. He controls and owns and dictates the rules of the game. Maybe it's comforting, for him, maybe it's his way of coping.  He never shows vulnerability, at least not to you. 

"Does he��satisfy you?" Your face immediately turns red. You don't know how to tell her that you haven't consummated the marriage yet. You got married in a hurry. You didn't have time for -

At least he insisted you accompany him to Harrenhal. He didn't want you waiting for him in the Red Keep, he wanted you close to him. Because you are his wife, he said. 

"We... We didn't..." You babble. You search for your words. And then you see her smirk, a subtle hint of a smile, almost imperceptibly curling the corners of her lips. You hardly know her, it's strange to discuss such intimate matters with your husband's lover. She knows him better than you do. Perhaps he showed her vulnerability, perhaps she knows what scars his soul. You wonder what she's thinking. She's indecipherable. Alys is a mystery. She exudes a special aura.

" What a pity," is all Alys answers. She has finished combing your hair. She takes the strands that have fallen across your chest and pulls them back behind your back, admiring her work. You hardly recognise yourself. You look bold. Almost confident. Your cleavage is accentuated. You look pretty.

You let her fingers brush over your bare shoulders, the touch light and pleasant. She places the finishing touch around your neck; a sapphire necklace. 

"Now you look like a future queen," she whispers, her lips painted red in the hollow of your ear, and you shiver. With desire or surprise, you don't really know. There's a kind of certainty in her voice that intrigues you. You're not quite sure what that is. For a brief moment, you have the feeling that you detect some truth in her words, and you say nothing. Her eyes are shining. 

Perhaps there's a part of unspoken desire there that you keep hidden beneath your innocent appearance.

You feel your husband's burning gaze on you all evening. You are alone at dinner. The two of you. The servants have brought the dishes and left immediately. He's at the other end of the table, his head held high, separated from you by steaming plates that make your mouth water. He has barely spoken, but you know that Aemond is a man of few words. He's all about quality.

"You look beautiful."

You politely accept the compliment. You like to feel that he fancies you. But then again, who doesn't like compliments? You cut your meat, your movements precise and delicate, like the lady you've been taught to become all your life. You play your role to perfection, it's a form of comfort, at least.

"I'm pleased that you find me to your liking, husband."

He looks satisfied. A silence falls over you. You are still hesitant in his company. You still have to adjust to him. You need to know how far you can go. What are your possibilities and your limits.

" She's intriguing, your Alys. "Your voice doesn't sound quite the way you would like it to, and you blame yourself. It gives the impression that you're reproaching him. That's not what you want. He stares at you with his one good eye, unreadable. 

"My Alys," he muses. "She is, indeed." He lets a doubt linger, and you regret having brought up the subject of Alys. "She sees much and more. She saw a future for me." He pauses. You raise your eyes to him, puzzled. "For us."  You and him, he means. And for a split second, you wonder if this has anything to do with what she told you.  A future queen. She said you looked like a future queen.

Your pulse quickens. The idea seems dizzying.  But there are certain desires that should remain buried, you know it. You don't want to appear power-hungry, even if your core is burning at the thought of having the whole Kingdom at your feet. 

Perhaps your husband can see it in your eyes.

Aemond wears the Conqueror's Crown on his head like the Prince Regent that he is, and you can't help but think that it suits him so well. It's what he is made for. He looks like a statue carved in marble, ethereal and suspended in time, the embodiment of Targaryen beauty and grace.

How can such an angelic face hide such a cruel man?

"But don't be jealous, wife." He continues in the face of your silence. His voice is cold. It cuts through the air like a sharp knife. "For it is you I have chosen to marry, and I intend to be a dutiful husband."

You feel your cheeks flush. He's watching you so intently. His good eye shines even brighter than the sapphire you know hides under his eye patch. You feel as if he's undressing you with his gaze. 

"I want you, tonight."

The statement sends a wave of heat between your thighs. You know what he means. You want it too. But to hear him express his desire so clearly, as if leaving no room for discussion, awakens a familiar sensation in your core. Aemond wants to take what he wants, what is rightfully his, and you may be sick in your head because the idea excites you as much as it frightens you. He's dangerous.  You know what he's done. And yet. And yet, you can't help but want him. 

By the time the meal is over, he's already standing in front of you. Tall. He towers over you, and as he leans towards you, forcing your chin up with the tip of his forefinger, he whispers, "You wouldn't deny your husband, would you?"

Gods, you can feel your arousal forming between your thighs, spreading across the fabric of your underwear. He's looking at you, his purple eye burning with desire. Between his legs, a visible bulge is already stretching the linen fabric. You notice it easily; it reflects the hunger you can read in his eyes.

"I wouldn't. Not when you are already so desperate."

To back up your words, your eyes drop to his crotch. He clenches his jaw and remains silent for a moment. You wonder what he's thinking, what thoughts are racing through his brain right now. He looks at you with a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if studying an unknown specimen. Maybe you've been too bold.  Maybe he likes it. 

"I bet you are already wet."

A shiver runs down your spine. He doesn't look away, not for a moment, and your eyes are relentlessly drawn to his, as if hypnotised. 

" Check. "

He doesn't waste any time. His fingers run down your body, slipping under the thick layers of your dress - you're wearing green to please him, but it's not the colour of your house. They work their way up your leg, up the inside of your thigh, raising goosebumps on your skin in a long shiver of pleasure. You feel him brush against your folds; a touch so light it's like a ghost. But isn't that his purpose, to haunt you in the depths of your soul? When he ventures between your warm folds, your teeth bite your lower lip to prevent the slightest sound from escaping your lips. You don't want to give him that privilege. You don't want to show him that you need him.

"Indeed, you are."

He captures your innermost essence with the tip of his finger and immediately withdraws his hand. His forefinger touches his thumb, and he inspects the transparent thread that stretches between his fingers. You look away. Your cheeks are flushed. You're burning with embarrassment at your body's betrayal.  He wipes his fingers and straightens up as if nothing had happened.

"Be there when I call for you."

And with that, he leaves the room. You're left alone, staring at the flame dancing in the middle of a candle. Between your thighs, your centre throbs.  Your husband is a mystery.

You are lying on the bed. Panting, you are drowning in a combination of feverish pleasure and anticipation of what is to come. Alys plants kisses on the back of your neck, spicy and intoxicating like the finest Dornish wine. Her fingers brush over your nipples, and with a deft movement, she rolls them between her forefinger and thumb, pinching them gently.  She is behind you. You lie with your back against her full breasts, her legs on either side of your body. Her long black hair tickles your collarbones as she leans towards you, and an herbal scent wafts through the air; a mixture of sage and lavender.

Her lips were between your thighs a moment ago. With devotion, the tip of her tongue explored your still untouched womanhood, collecting the fruits of your desire, her fingers drawing circles against your entrance. She's experienced. She knows what she's doing. You've never felt anything like this before. And when your thighs have closed around her face, one of your hands buried in her thick mass of black hair, she welcomed your climax into her mouth. Her half-closed eyes looked up at you from under her long lashes, an enigmatic smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She seemed proud of herself, and of her work.  You're sure she can still taste you on her lips.

When she had finished, she remained between your legs for a moment, tracing little circles on your lower stomach, her lips still glistening with your essence and her own saliva. Your chest rose and fell quickly.  Red with embarrassment, you didn't dare meet her eyes and see the blatant traces of your shared sin still staining the lower part of her face. She let you catch your breath. Regain your senses. Come down from that little cloud you're still on.

It's Aemond who moves first. He stands and joins Alys, wiping what's left of your desire on her lips with his thumb. He looks satisfied. You wonder if he liked what he saw, if he liked seeing his wife tremble under the caresses of another.  He pushes his thumb between Alys's lips, forcing her to taste you once more, and she sucks his finger with infinite compliance. You can see in their eyes that they know each other intimately, that he has already tasted her body. You can see it in their eyes, in the glances they exchange.  You wonder if there has been more than carnal pleasure. You think there is. He kisses her chastely on the lips.

Aemond looks in your direction. He burns with desire, excitement and anticipation. You are about to become his and he can't hold back any longer. He needs to possess you. 

"She did well," Alys murmurs, amused. "Give her a moment."

But he doesn't want to wait, he wants his wife. He undresses, and that's when Alys comes up behind you. She strokes your hair and whispers a series of praises into the hollow of your ear. You're cottony between her fingers, but your core is throbbing again at the thought of feeling your husband inside you.

"Open your legs," Aemond commands. And Alys gently spreads your thighs so that you reveal yourself to your husband.

Aemond details your body. Every part, from your lips to your breasts, from the valley between your breasts to your navel, and then the curve that leads to your centre. Alys follows the path of his gaze - her fingers on your nipples, and then her fingers running along your abdomen to your folds, caressing them gently.  Her index and middle fingers slide between your flesh.

"Look how ready she is for you," Alys whispers to Aemond. You’re wet. His eyes are locked on you, right where you want him most. His member is hard, slightly curved against his belly, its angry red tip already leaking white beads.

And you are ready. You're just waiting for it. Desperately. The orgasm Alys gave you with her tongue has awakened a new, hungry desire in you.  You stifle a moan that Alys encourages you to express with her lips along your throat. 

Aemond leans over you, capturing your lips with his own. He nibbles at your lower lip. You feel his dominance, his need to own you. He's rough with his kiss, as if he's waited too long. Maybe he has.

You moan. Where Alys' body is soft and full of curves, Aemond's is angular and made of muscle. 

"I want you," he whispers again against your lips. His fingers slide down your body, lingering on your breasts as he caresses your already erect nipples. Then he moves them between your thighs. He's meticulous with his movements. Precise. He traces your slit, spreads your folds to tease your little bud. You stifle another moan.

"And I can tell you want me too."

His fingers are against your entrance, which clenches around nothing as you feel him draw circles without ever entering you. It's frustrating. Slowly, he inserts a finger. You move your hips, desperate for more contact, desperate to welcome him deeper into you.

"Stay still," Aemond whispers, pressing down on your lower body. Behind you, Alys runs her hand through your curls. She strokes your long hair and when you move, she shushes you.

"You'll take what I give you," he adds, his lips against your jaw, his fingers inside you. "But if you are patient, you will be rewarded. I always reward good girls." You feel a slight stretch as a second finger enters you, and the sensation is delicious. Delicious, but not enough. Even when he starts to move his fingers back and forth - they are subtly crooked inside you, even when he traces the curve of your breast with his mouth, catching your nipple between his lips. 

"You're doing well," Alys breathes, praising you. There's her body behind you, and Aemond's lips on your breasts, his fingers buried inside you, deep, and your body is on fire. But it's not enough.

"I'm ready," you moan. "Please."

Behind you, Alys chuckles softly, her chest rising and falling as she senses your desperation, senses your desperate need for more. The impatience of the youth, she thinks - for Aemond is like that, too. Impatient. Impulsive. She had to teach him as well. As Aemond withdraws his fingers and positions himself between your legs, you feel Alys hold your thighs apart. Her fingers are hot against your skin, but there's something soothing about having her against you, around you. Her presence calms the too-rapid beating of your heart - an inevitable form of apprehension at the thought of what is about to happen.

There's something strange about the idea of sharing such an intimate moment with your husband and his lover. It's not what you imagined, and yet you love the feeling of having them both against you. You're safe. You feel safe. The war can't reach you when you're between their bodies - it's a silly thought.

And then, his round tip rubs between your folds, testing your entrance. The contact is hot. When he finally enters you, the stretch catches you off guard, your fingers close in the sheets, then around Alys' arm.

"Fuck. You're tight." Aemond grunts.

The sensation is new and incredible - the slight pain you felt at first quickly dissipates, replaced by pleasure. 

Soon you feel nothing else. Alys' hands leave your legs and move up your body. One hand on your breast, the other at the top of your folds, where she draws slow circles around your pearl.  She knows what she's doing. She knows what she's doing, and so does Aemond. And there they are, both slaves to your own pleasure.

He sets his pace. She sets hers. You know you won't last long; your walls are already beginning to tighten around his member. You feel him so deep inside you, and there's this one spot, this one precise spot that he hits at a steady pace that makes you feel like you're seeing stars.

Soon your husband's movements become sloppy, messy. 

"Fill your wife, Aemond." Alys whispers in a commanding tone, and there's something about hearing her give orders to your husband that sends a wave of warmth through your lower belly. She reaches out her hand, strokes his hair, his cheek. "You need an heir, don't you? So, spill your seed, I know you can." She addresses Aemond, but her honeyed voice echoes in your ears. You shiver, once more. The thought. The thought is -

You feel your release sweep through your body like a wave washing over you. You throw your head back against Alys, who is already kissing you.  Her fingers leave your folds. Aemond brings them to his mouth - he cleans every trace of you that still stains her skin with a hm. It's filthy. It's indecent. But you're too far gone to think about that now. 

All you can think of is Aemond's arms around your waist as he pulls you up so you're sitting on top of him, facing him, his forehead against yours, as he spills his seed deep inside you, white ropes painting your wombs. He holds you against him, his hands on your waist, the grip mean and possessive. You put your arms around his neck, your breasts pressed against his chest. And he holds you like that, against him, when his member stops throbbing between your inner walls, when he feels his member softening inside you. When you come to your senses, still high from your second release of the evening.

"Now you truly belong to me," he whispers against your lips, and all you can answer is "Yes, I do".

As you lie back, you can still feel the sticky combination of your two fluids dripping between your thighs. But your eyelids are already heavy - your lovemaking has exhausted you. Alys strokes your hair, under Aemond's watchful eye. He's still hesitant, despite what's happened between you - but it's hard for him to be vulnerable.

"You did well," she mutters, but she doesn't know if you can hear her or if you're already asleep. Aemond finally reaches out to caress your face with a gentleness you don't recognise; his thumb against your cheek. He's soft. You look so peaceful, asleep between them.

You are not sure what tomorrow will bring. You are not sure what the future holds. But when you close your eyes, your dreams are made of crowns and sapphires.

Ashes and flames too - but you'd rather forget that. Outside, the war still rages.

[diana-foggy-master]

𝐀𝐥𝐲𝐬 & 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 & 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 & 𝐆𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 & 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 & 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON | 𝐬𝟐𝐞𝟎𝟑

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like or reblog if u save

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[whiteoakoak]

I think there might be something wrong with me because I can't stop thinking about him and posting about him. Hihi 🤭🤭

[achaoticeternal]

bewitched.

AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM!READER

summary: more word has arrived to you regarding your husbands infidelity. as he returns to you, you present him with a choice.  word count: 2k warnings: drinking. strong language. angst. adultery. pain. a/n: see end of the piece for author’s note

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

choose your own ending...

— ending 1.

— ending 2.

— ending 3.

— ending 4.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“My lady,” Your chambermaid spoke from the doorway, returning with a fresh pitcher of wine as you had requested, “Should I see the children to bed?”

“Please do,” Your voice was soft, the words fragile in your solemn state.

“It might be best for you to rest, rather than await the return of Prince Aemond.”

Her words were gentle, simply advising you to take care of yourself. But the fires of hurt and betrayal were already lit. 

“What makes you believe that I am awaiting my husband?” With words more venomous than you intended, you bid her leave.

At the sound of the door shutting, you stood and moved toward the pitcher and chalice left idly by the fireplace. You poured the deep red liquid and lifted the cup to your lips, taking a generous gulp.  The dull burn allowed some relief to your heightened senses. But you also knew that the alcohol only added fuel to your fire. 

Rain began to pour over King’s Landing, softly thudding against the windows and stone of the castle walls. Usually, the rain would lull you to sleep, but it seemed the thunder of the skies only spurred you to continue drowning away the ache in your heart. Your eyes flickered over the second chalice that had been placed on the silver tray with your pitcher. It seemed that the servants expected Aemond to return to the Keep tonight. You were not sure if you wish for him to return or for him to drown in the heavy rains that poured from the sky. 

As if the fool perfectly timed you, you glanced out the window to see the silhouette of Vhagar descending toward the Dragon Pits. In a drunken frenzy, you pulled the curtain to cover it, instead, the velvet fabric came down at your harsh tug. 

The frustration would nearly boil over, but you did not allow the simple issues to push you over the threshold. As the Queen had often advised you, it was important that a lady bite her tongue and keep her composure even when she is by her lonesome. If someone saw the illusion of a proper lady shatter, it would be nearly impossible to recover from. She even revealed to you how she had come by this knowledge, sharing with you the events that occurred the night Aemond became the one-eyed prince.  

Swiftly, you moved back toward the fireplace, picking up the parcel that a raven had delivered directly to you just this morning. It appeared blank to the simple eye, but when you hovered the note over the fire, the message revealed itself. The contents of it were simple, but completely shattered something inside of you:

She is with child. 

Though the news had shocked you, the existence of the other woman did not. When Aemond and Daeron laid siege to Harrenhal and the Riverlands, word had traveled through the courts regarding the princes bedding other women. At the time, you had bit your tongue, excusing your husband’s infidelity as you convinced yourself it was just something he used to relieve his stress from battlefields. 

But even after the marches through the Riverlands were claimed to be successful and at an end, Aemond would sometimes fly off to Harrenhal. He would say that he was just ensuring the hold that the Greens had on the region, yet you never believed his lies. 

It was said that Harrenhal was cursed, blood mixed into the stone that built it. You believed the stories true after the great fire took the lives of Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin when you were a child yourself. But now a curse had attached itself to your husband and kept him crawling back to the towers of Harrenhal. 

The door cracked open, the hinges creaking as he entered, exhaustion painted over his face. Aemond was completely drenched, his hair now scrunched into waves rather than falling perfectly straight. Most of his leather overlayer had been discarded for the servants to see to, leaving him in a black tunic and pants with his riding boots.

It took him a few moments, but Aemond quickly came to realize that you were resting by the fire rather than fast asleep in your shared bed. 

“Should you not be sleeping, dear wife?” Aemond called out to you while readying himself to turn into bed. 

“Sleep has… escaped me recently,” You replied, eyes remaining on the fire. Only at his words did the nerves begin to spur inside you. How would he react when you told him? What would tomorrow bring? None of it really mattered, you supposed, as long as you didn’t allow your nerves to get the best of you. 

Now in his proper bedclothes, Aemond began to approach the fireplace. He noticed the half-empty pitcher of wine, slightly shocked that you were partaking this late at night. Usually, you would reserve yourself to only enjoying wine at dinners or feasts, not in your marriage chambers. His eye flickered to the second chalice that sat empty on the silver platter. His slender fingers reached to grasp it, “Would this cup be for me?”

You turned your head, looking between the pitcher and chalice but never into his eye, “The maid brought it with her, probably as a formality. No one expected you back tonight.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed at the tone you spoke with, and it caught the prince off guard when you returned your gaze to the fire rather than continuing to speak with him. He poured his own chalice with wine and allowed himself to enjoy it. He stayed in place, unwavering from his position as he looked down on you.

The air went still… the taste of the wine began to sour in his mouth. He sensed something to be out of place, yet he could not pinpoint it. Usually, you would be elated to see him, but recently you were far more reserved from your husband. Aemond was not sure if he should be upset or concerned, but did not ponder on the thought too much as he allowed himself to attend to his duties rather than his wife. 

With a sigh and a light cough to clear his throat, the prince finally spoke once more, “Come to bed…”

The pause settled again before your soft chuckle hung in the air. Quickly, you stood from your seated position and drowned the remainder of your chalice in one swig. You moved to the table and refilled your cup till the pitcher ran dry. Instead of crossing to your bed, you remained standing, only turned away from the man. This behavior caused Aemond to clench his jaw, subduing his urge to correct such disobedience. 

“Will you not come to bed with me?” Aemond summoned you again. 

Once more you chuckled at him, not sparing him any sort of look from you. Just the cruel chuckle of your acknowledgment. 

“Your husband demands—”

“My husband demands me of nothing,” You interrupted him, “And he would do well to find another bed to sleep in or find himself in tonight.”

At your words, Aemond crossed toward you, attempting to snatch the half-drunk chalice of wine from your hands, “It seems you have overindulged yourself. It would do you well to sleep before—”

“Before what? Before I continue to act out of turn?” With a fierce determination, your fingers clutched down onto the chalice so that Aemond could not separate it from you. Your words dripped with poison, “Or before you return to Harrenhal and bed the whore witch?”

At the mention of Alys, both you and Aemond let go of the goblet at the same time and simply watched it fall to the ground, red liquid covering the tile floors. 

“It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know or understand.”

“I understand it quite plainly that my husband is now an adulterer, just like his eldest brother and his damned uncle. It seems that disloyalty to marriage is quite a common trait among Targaryen men.”

Quickly, Aemond’s hand came to your throat, gripping the flesh to show how serious he was being, yet not hard enough to asphyxiate you, “Did you not understand my words before, my stupid little wife? It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know…”

“Oh? But I do know…” Your hands grabbed at his forearms, nails sinking into the flesh so that he would release you, “And it would do you well to learn just how smart your wife is…”

“I have known… I have known about Alys since your first rampage through the Riverlands. For moons, I remained confined to the Red Keep from your orders, and when they came to deliver news of you and your victories, I cheered. I still cheered when the maids told me the rumors between you and Alys, because I was grateful to the Seven that you were alive. Because I was still foolish enough to love you far more than you deserve.”

Tears threatened to spill over, but you swallowed them back. You would not allow Aemond the pleasure of your tears, only the fire of your anger. 

“She promised me security for my life and the lives of my men,” Aemond attempted to justify himself, “I could not risk it—”

“You could have offered her gold, offered her a title, or anything else besides your body! Instead, you break your vows. And you did not stop there, because you continue to fly back to Harrenhal whenever you desire the witch’s cunt to the point where your son and daughter could not even recognize you if they ever saw you!” You huffed out, scanning his face for any sign of emotion, anything at all.

“You have allowed your lust to overcome you, disappointing your wife, your mother, and the Seven. Worst of all, you shall now have your own bastard. At least this bastard will not be raised of the Street of Silk as your brother’s bastards have.”

“How did you know?” Aemond’s voice cracked while he asked the question, “How do you know she is pregnant?”

A smirk played on your lips at the question, “It seems that the Master of Whispers is a very devoted friend of the Queen, and with the Queen being your mother, she deemed it important enough to share the news with me, your faithful wife.”

His face went pale at the realization of how many people were aware of his infidelity. While Aemond remained silent, you twisted the knife deeper into his chest. You had been tortured with this knowledge for so long that you now enjoyed the pained expression on his face.

“I have always been good to you, devoted to you. Where others cowered from you, I loved you. Despite the warnings of your blood lust and deformity, I loved you and gave you two perfect children who study just as diligently as you once did. So while you found yourself in the arms of another woman, I tried not to curse your name and assure our children that all was well, even if their father would not be present for them. But now, I look at you like a curse upon my life. You have allowed yourself to be corrupted outside our marriage, and I can no longer offer you salvation for your selfishness…”

“What would you have me do?”

You laughed mockingly at his question. Instead of providing a proper answer, you only glared further into his good eye.

“Please,” Aemond gritted his teeth, hating that he allowed himself to beg an answer from you, “Just tell me what I should do!”

“I can not simply tell you what to do. That would be to easy - what lesson would you have learned?” You shook your head and a shuddering breath escaped you.

“You have to make a choice, Aemond,” Your hand gripped his wrist, forcing him to remain attentive to your words, “Either you atone for the sin your committed and the hurt you’ve caused or you reside in Harrenhal for the rest of your days…”

“This is a choice only you can make — a wife or a witch?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: I am considering making a follow-up to this one-shot, a blurb about the outcome of the options that Aemond has... maybe...

[heavenhatesme]

No because I whole heartedly believe since Alys is a wet nurse in Harrenhal, we're going to get a scane like these where Aemond is breastfeeding from her. Like DAMN ALICENT WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO THIS BOY😭😭😭

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Entangled. // Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Alys Rivers

MDNI ; reader discretion is advised.

Summary: after so much loss, you had been betrothed and later married off to aemond as a means to put an end to the war, he takes you to harrenhal where you meet his mistress, Alys rivers. What can possibly unfold?

WARNINGS: dubcon (I'm not sure but I'm adding it just to be safe), unprotected sex, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, tiddy sucking, m/f/f, cunnilingus, threesome, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, polygamy(?), witch stuff, aemond x alys, alys x reader, aemond x reader, canon typical incest, war, loss, slight angst, slight fluff, contains spoilers for fire and blood, canon divergence, reader doesn't have a description. + not proofread.

A/N: here's a fic as promised before I leave for 2 weeks due to mid terms! hope you all enjoy it! // divider credit: @cafekitsune

WC: 2.8k

The war was devastating to you and your siblings, having lost both luke and jace, you were terrified for your life as well as your younger sibling's.

You watched as your family fell apart, slowly but surely, all of them ended up dying, leaving you and your younger siblings alone and estranged. The moment you heard your stepfather, daemon's, death; you knew that it was over, there was no more winning anymore.

Especially with Aemond surviving the fight.

Loss, Grief, and Sorrow were emotions you became familiar with.

You had to anyway.

Because with war, there would always be the plague of such pessimistic emotions that would follow, with every news it will only grow stronger.

Alas, the greens ended up winning the war.

And Alicent, as a way to make sure none of this repeats again, has quickly betrothed you to her second son, prince regent, Aemond, while your younger brother Aegon III was betrothed to Jaehaera.

It's not as if you and Aemond were on bad terms before the war, it would rather be described as more… tolerable. Aemond didn't hold any feelings towards you, neither negative nor positive.

Is what you had taught.

Until you found out that halfway through your wedding procession that it was Aemond who proposed the idea of marrying you to him, Alicent had only planned for Aegon and Jaehaera's betrothal.

You exchanged your vows half heartedly, and as soon as the wedding had ended, Aemond wasted no time and immediately whisked you away with him to Harrenhal, which he inherited and resides there to rule rather than at the keep.

You had not spoken a word to him ever since the departure. You did not want to.

Harrenhal looked and felt ominous, everything about it screamed danger, whether it was the rumours about the curses that surrounded this place, or just the overall aesthetics and appearance of it, it scared you.

You knew that it was destroyed and basically melted during Aegon's conquest, but it seemed Aemond had tried his very best to rebuild the place, yet the result was more horrific than it was ‘fixed’ you would've preferred if it had been just left untouched.

Aemond, wanting to go all the way with the formalities, he gave you a tour of the castle, before stopping in front of his chamber, a private residence where only he is allowed, “This is our chamber.” He said.

Ah yes, it also belongs to you now, doesn't it? You are his wife after all. You nodded, not wishing to speak to him, the guard opened the door.

As you both entered inside, there was already a woman who seemed to be waiting, as if she knew you both would be coming. “Aemond, you have returned.” She stood up from her seat, putting the book down, addressing him informally.

Not your grace, my prince or any formal title, just Aemond.

You took note of her appearance, hair as dark as the night sky, eyes that resembled emeralds, donning a valyrian steel necklace.

Alys rivers.

Aemond's mistress.

“Alys, I have not permitted you to enter my chambers.” Aemond speaks calmly, not realising the awkward situation that has occured with you in the room. “Oh come on Aemond, do not be so cold, Is she your wife?” She turned the conversation to you and you wished the ground would swallow you whole because of the tension in the air.

“Yes, she is.” Aemond confirms and she hums, “And you must be his mistress.” You speak, breaking the silence you maintained all throughout, acknowledging her presence, catching her by surprise. “Oh? You're know of me?” she asks and you nod, “How can i not? When there's words of your presence infiltrating every corner of the world, after all, Who could the prince have taken as a mistress after his betrothal to Floris broke?” You question, eyebrows raised, you see Aemond visibly tense, likely feeling the tension now.

“What have you heard of me, Princess?” Alys asks, tilting her head to the side, “That you are very beautiful, eyes that shone brightly like the stars amidst the night sky; that is your hair.” You tell her truthfully making her lips break into a smirk, “And what else?” She doesn't break eye contact, it's your turn to smirk now, “That you must wield powers, which you had used to bewitch the prince.” You watch as her smirk turns into a smile, “What exactly are you implying princess?”

“That you are a witch.” You put implication on the word ‘witch’, Aemond coughs awkwardly and her chuckle breaks the silence and you giggle as well, “And what do you think of it?”

Why was she so curious to know of your opinion?

“Mhm, I cannot speak for everyone, but I do not believe it, I can say that for sure.” You tell her your opinion, “And why is that so?” she asks, “Because- it's just my opinion.” you shrug and she smiles.

“Alys, you can leave now.” Aemond interferes, kicking her out and you give her a smile which she returns as she leaves the chambers. “I apologise.” Aemond expresses his apology. You simply ignore him, not wishing to speak to him.

He sighs in annoyance, “For fucks sake why can't you just talk to me? You were speaking a lot to Alys when she was here.” He breaks his formality and that's when you turn to him, “There you are uncle, I was getting bored with the formality you have shown me, pretending as though nothing happened, that your family did not just kill my family.” You say in anger.

“It's over now.” He says and you scoff, “Over?! What do you mean over?! What about the grief that I carry? The loss of my brothers, my mother, my father??! It's destroying me from the inside out!” You shout and Aemond stands still, looking down as if in regret.

“You are not the only one that has experienced grief.” He murmurs and before you can say anything, he lifts his head up and looks at you in the eyes and you immediately stop yourself from speaking.

That's right.

You aren't the only one that has experienced grief, you suddenly remember helaena and jaehaerys. You bite your lip in thought.

“I'm aware that you have experienced more loss than me, more grief than me, some directly caused by me, but that doesn't mean I'm not a victim of it either.” He sighs, “Either way, there is no use of dwelling over the past, we need to put our differences aside and make this work, you saw what happened. War will only make it worse.”

You hated that he was right.

You watch as he comes closer and you don't move away, he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, it feels so comforting, when was the last time you were held like this? You hug him back, burying your face into him, breathing his scent.

“I, I know this will not solve anything that has happened, or bring your brother back to life, but I apologize, I hope we can put our past behind us.” You hear him speak as you zone out in the comfort of his arms, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Ever since then, you and Aemond had grown closer a bit, trying your best to make everything work, he had bedded you during the days that followed, consummating your marriage. But he still laid with Alys.

You did not mind, because though you had gotten closer, you didn't always want to be around him and Alys helped you greatly with that, keeping him away from you.

You were sitting in the library of Harrenhal, reading on the chaise until you heard the door open and watched as Alys entered the room. “Greetings Princess.” She bows slightly and you raise your eyebrow, “You can drop the formalities Alys, you referring to me formally while being informal with my husband will make it seem like I'm that one mean wife who has forced herself between two star crossed lovers.” You close the book you were reading and she chuckles, “As you wish, Y/N.” she refers to you by your name and you smile. “What is that you require from me?” You ask and she shrugs, “I simply wanted to see you, see how you are doing.” She says and you nod, “Hmm.” you hum.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are delectable?” She suddenly says and you look at her, “I've gotten compliments, yes, but not to that extent.” you tell her honestly and she hums. “Well, you are extremely pretty. Almost makes me want to-” She interrupts herself with a cough and you raise an eyebrow, “Make you want to?” You question, and she looks at you, “Have you for myself.” She says directly to your face, catching you off guard. “Oh?” You smirk, “You wish to steal me from the prince? He might see it as an offence.” you tease and she chuckles, “Maybe.” She smirks and suddenly it feels as if the entire power dynamic has changed. You clear your throat in an attempt to deviate from this conversation and try to start another one.

Encounters like that had become more frequent with Alys, she was being flirty indirectly, she had even done it in front of Aemond to which he didn't bat an eye to.

You had tried your best to remain composed, only to find yourself in a situation you didn't quite expect.

Your legs were held spread open by Alys as she laid behind you, your back against her chest, you could feel the softness of her breasts against your back as she kissed your neck.

You gaze falls on Aemond who was currently undressing, he was taking off his breech which revealed his hard cock, to which he gave a few pumps to ease the tension, “Come on Aemond, don't take way too much time.” Alys coos and Aemond obeys, lining his cock to your cunt, sliding it down your fold, gathering the wetness on his cock and later placing his tip against your entrance.

He then slowly pushes inside, causing you to gasp and grip the sheets below, Alys’ hands travel up to your torso and she grabs your breasts, playing with the nipple as she continues placing kisses on your neck.

Aemond fully sheaths himself inside you, grunting when he feels you clench around him, “Fuck, I love this cunt so much.” He groans before drawing his hips back and pushing forward, thrusting. “I know right? Been wanting to taste it for a while, let me at it when you're done.” Alys replies to him, she turns your face sideways and presses her lips against yours, kissing you.

Aemond's tip prods at the sweet spot located inside of you, causing you let out a loud moan into Alys’ mouth to which she chuckles, one of her hands leave your breasts and go to your cunt, she rubs small circles on your clit, elevating the pleasure you're feeling, and before you know it, your orgasm hits you as you come all over his cock, clenching him, causing him to moan and eventually finish inside you. He pulls out slowly, his cock beginning to soften.

Alys is swift in her movements, moving from behind you to facing you from the front, she pushes you further up the bed before lowering herself down to the level where she is face to face with your cunt, she hums in delight as she watches Aemond's spend ooze out from you.

Her tongue collects some of it before she licks a long stripe up to your clit, before engulfing it completely with her moan, which causes you to throw your head back in place. Your hand flies to her head to grip it, your fingers locked in her tresses. You whimper as she pulls on your clit with her mouth, nibbling it. She travels a little down towards your hole and pushes her tongue inside, fucking you with it, her nose rubbing against your clit.

You watch as as Aemond begins to harden again, he positions himself behind Alys, grabbing her by her hips and lifting her lower body up, You feel Alys moan against your cunt as she feels him enter her, her body rocks back and forth as he thrusts into her, she uses your thighs as a leverage to keep her steady, annoyed by the fact that he's using so much force to the point her face keeps leaving your cunt, her tongue swirls around your clit which causes the band in your stomach to snap, you gasp out her name and she moans into your cunt as she reaches her orgasm, teeth clamping down onto your clit but not too harshly yet enough to cause slight sting. Aemond pulls out before he can finish inside her, finishing on her back.

Why did he not finish inside her?

The thought flies over your head as they swiftly change positions again.

Another round? You're already too overstimulated from the previous pleasure.

Aemond lays down and pulls you on top of him, you lay your hands flat against his chest and balance yourself, he lifts your hips up and lines his cock against your entrance again before sinking you down on it, letting out a groan. “Seven hells, I just can't get used to this cunt no matter how many times I take it.” He grunts, “Sit on my face, Alys.” He looks at her and she smiles, immediately obeying, she faces you and you watch as her cunt hovers right above his mouth before she descends to it, his tongue immediately capturing her sex.

You slowly start moving your hips, causing Aemond to groan against her cunt, one of his hands remains firmly on your hip as the other travels to Alys's thigh, gripping it for leverage.

‘This is what heaven probably feels like’ Aemond thinks.

You bounce up and down his cock, Alys leans towards you to capture your lips into a kiss and you let her, your hands roam all over her body before reaching her breasts, you give a slight squeeze to them, making her breath hitch. She kisses downwards your neck, to your breast before taking your nipple in her mouth.

She suckles on your tit while maintaining eye contact with you, and you can already feel the third orgasm of night beginning to build up. She moans with your breast in her mouth causing pleasant vibrations to shoot up your skin, it seems as if she had reached her peak.

She quickly get off of Aemond's face and he sits up, fully focusing his attention onto you now, pressing a kiss to your lips, you can feel the taste of Alys’ essence on his tongue as he shoves in your mouth, deepening the kiss, he ruts into you at a speedy pace and pulls away from the kiss, to watch your tits bounce up and down as he thrusts upwards.

His mouth descends onto one of them, tongue playing with the bud, flicking it up and down, “I can't wait to see these swell with milk when my seed takes, I bet you'd taste so fucking good.” He growls, biting your nipple making you wince.

And it isn't long before you reach your third orgasm of the night, moaning his name loudly as you finish on his cock, and he once again finishes inside your cunt, filling you up with his seed, painting your walls.

You fall slumped onto his shoulder, exhausted from all the intimate acts you have committed with Aemond and his lover, and practically your lover too now.

He pulls you off him and lays you down next to him gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you watch as Alys lays on your stomach, and she turns to press a kiss to your lower abdomen, right where your womb was located and whispers some words which you couldn't make sense of.

She then climbs up further and lays beside you, hugging you close to her chest and Aemond pulls you both into an embrace.

“She'll soon give birth to children that will look like the three of us.” Alys says to Aemond and he hums, “How?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows and she chuckles, “Maybe that being a witch rumour wasn't false after all.” She says and you gasp, “Though, I never really bewitched the prince, I never had to.” She chuckles and leans over to kiss Aemond before falling back to place.

You thought Alys was just bluffing and joking at that time, until you gave birth to twins months later.

Who ended up having features of all three of you, your son, having one emerald green eye and one purple eye with your hair colour, and your daughter with platinum blonde hair with your eye colour and facial features of alys.

You wondered how she'd done it.

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

[editorandchief]

Hell Hath No Fury | Aemond Targaryen

Request: Yes

Summary: Aemond has become distant and you find out why.

Warning: blood, miscarriage, cheating, assault

Hell Hath No Fury Masterlist

You couldn't believe it.

He was the good brother, the dutiful son, the valiant knight... the faithful husband. There was no way that your Aemond wouldn't do this to you. 

This explains why he was traveling so often to Harrenhal away from you for so long when you needed him the most, you thought as you rubbed your swollen belly staring at the piece of paper in your hand. 

He had gotten that whore pregnant, and from the letter it seemed you two were both soon to give birth.  

Alys Rivers, the strong Bastard, the Witch...Yet another thing you two had in common, maybe your husband had a type.

This was it. the beginning of the end. If Alys Rivers gave birth to that child there is nothing that would stop her from coming to court, having her child legitimized, having Aemond take her as a mistress, bringing shame and embarrassment upon you and your child.

No.

"Push princess, push." The midwife needlessly instructed as someone wiped the sweat from your brow. 

"I do appreciate your help and respect and acknowledge that you have helped bring many royals into this world so please forgive me when I say, 'please shut the fuck up and let me concentrate." You yelled back as you took two deep breaths before closing your eyes and letting your head fall backwards. 

Opening your eyes again you see your in a hallway standing in front of a door, you can still hear the midwives telling you to push. placing your hand in the door you push it open slowly as you see the sight of Alys Rivers and Aemond in bed together. 

His arm is wrapped around her, as they are both naked it isn't hard to guess what it was that had made them so tired. Walking into the room you hear the door close behind you just as you stand right above them. As if sensing your presence Alys' eyes snap open and stare up at you. 

She opens her mouth to wake Aemond before you stop her. 

"Don't bother calling out, her can't hear us." You informed her reaching for his arm and throwing it away from her causing his to shift in his sleep and turn over. "No one can. From the look on your face I can tell you know exactly who I am, which is amusing considering I knew nothing of you a moon ago."

"I know this must be upsetti-."

"No! You don't because you are not his wife, you are not the one he married and swore loyalty to only to turn around and impregnate some whore." You sneered at her as she flinched back. "What was your plan? to take my husband, become and mistress, you seek to replace me and my child?" You asked as she simply shook her head in denial. 

"It was never meant to happen like this, but I love Aemond and he loves me, I'm sorry that you are hurt by this but that is the truth of it. I never thought I would be able to have children but this is a gift that Aemond has given to me and we both are thankful to be having it, but that does not mean he is any less thankful for your child and I promise you that I mean no harm to your life, marriage or the life of your child."  Alys rushed to explain. Taking a moment you look on at this women in bed with your husband and think of her words.

"Words....are not enough." You say before Alys' body is forced down into the bed. Leaning over her you pulled the sheets from her body exposing her milky skin to the cold air. 

"What are you doing?" Alys asked as she struggled against the invisible force. 

"Don't worry I am simply righting a wrong," You informed her as you pulled a knife from your dress. "The child that grows inside of you belongs to my husband"  You continue as you placed the blade to her belly.

"No! Please no." Alys pleads as she fight to get away from you. "I'm beg you please. I have wronged you I admit but my child is innocent, Aemond's child is innocent." 

"I know." You say before plunging the knife into her womb as she lets out a blood curtailing scream. Once the cut was made you reached inside of her wound ignoring the blood and cries of the women as you pull the child from her body. Cradling the child in your arm you softly coo to the child as Alys lets out another round of sobs. "Please do not morn for the child will live, but it will be birthed by me, as should all children of my husband." 

Turning and walking away the door slowly creaks back open allowing you to walk back into the hall. "Though I am very thankful for this gift you and my husband have given to me Alys, I trust it will be the last one" You say before the door closes once again. 

"Just one more push my princess." You left you head once again over come with the pain of child birth. "Here it comes." After one more push the room is filled with the cries of your child. 

"A prince, you have given birth to a prince." The midwife announced moving to retrieve a blanket for the newborn. She began to hand you your child before you leaned forward and let out a painful groan. "The afterbirth."

another midwife crouched between your leg as you groan in pain. "No there is a head, there is another babe." She informed sending the room into another round of panic as you were instructed again to push.

"Another prince." She soon declares as the second child begins to cry. 

 Cradling both babes in your arms you look down at the two clearly Targaryen princes with a small smile, Alicent entered the room quickly making it to your side "Aemon and  Armon." You names them as she looks to her grandchildren made my her favorite son. 

***

It had been three days since Aemond woke to Alys' screams, the sheets around her covered in blood as she cradled her stomach. The maesters said it was a miscarriage, but Alys insisted that it wasn't, when Aemond tried to comfort her she yelled for him to leave her and refused to be near him. After the second day of trying he chose to return to Kingslanding where is was notified that his wife had given birth to twin boys. 

Entering the chambers he sees his wife cooing at the two newborns laying on their bed. Turning towards your husband your eyes widen. "Aemond, I thought you were Beth to assist me with taking the twins to midday meal, the family wished to meet them." 

"Well I am sorry to disappoint you," Aemond teased walking closer to the bed. "But I promise I can try to be as good as Beth until she arrives." 

"Oh stop." You laughed a bit before letting out a sigh. "Actually I am glad that you are here, I wanted to speak with you."

"What is it you wish to speak of?" He asked rubbing his knuckle along Aemon's face.

"I know that this marriage started as an arrangement, but I understand that at the time we both believed that we become fond of each other and perhaps even love, and I thought that we had begun to share these feeling but I realize that I can not hold you to promises we made as children." You now had his full attention. "And if it is what you want, I will not fight you on seeking annulment."

"You have been distant and it was not until the twins were born that I realize just how distant you've become, we used to spend time together, reading, painting, laughing but I gave birth for the first time and my husband was not to be found." You explained. "I do not blame you for not returning my feeling or for pulling away but I can't live thinking that I'm driving you from your home or thinking that this distance between us will affect our children." 

"Please," Aemond says grabbing your hand and kneeling at your side. "Your feeling are returned I swear it to you, my distance is of no fault of your own."

"Then what is it?" You pleaded looking into his eyes. "I wish for you to be there for our children, for them to love and be moved by you. You once told me you didn't want to be like your father, I do not want this either."

Looking into your eyes Aemond knew he couldn't tell you the reason, he knew it would break your heart and he couldn't do that to you not after you had just given him two son, not ever. "It matters not, It will never happen again." He assures giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I will not be the father viserys was to me and I will not be the husband he was to my mother. You three are my life and I will spend every second to assure that you know it. 

"My princess It is time for your midday meal with your family." Beth informed entering the chambers.

"Thank you Beth would you please hold Aemon and I will take Armon you instruct as Aemond stands and helps you from the bed. Standing and walking towards the door you asked Beth to please walk ahead of you. "I thank you for hearing me Aemond and I do hope this isn't asking to much but I also must ask something else of you." 

Aemond nodded as he rubs his hand up and down your back in comfort. 

"I wish for this to be a pleasant occasion so I must ask you not fight with Jace and Luke, though it seems you have grown quite fond of Strong bastards as of late." You say before walking ahead leaving his frozen in the door way of the room.  

Part Two

[starogeorgina]

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

Pairing: Alys Rivers x reader x Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: Smut, hints of breeding & knife kink, slight dubcon (under the influence of magic), swearing

“Do you believe in what I tell you, princess?”

You were tense; the question felt like a trick, so you didn’t answer, and Alys continued to brush your hair, standing behind you at the vanity. Your stepfather, Prince Daemon, had warned you that there was more to Alys Rivers than meets the eye. She was a trickster, a witch. And nothing Alys said was to be believed. Especially when she just said you’d be married and have a child before the week was over, and your babe would end the brewing war between your family.

However, you did find her alluring, which was the only reason you kept her close.

The castle was dark and damp, but you found comfort in it. Daemon had left on Caraxes a few days prior to returning to Dragonstone, while you remained with your own dragon in case anyone’s loyalties started to sway when the green army eventually arrived.

“You don’t believe me now, princess, but in time you will.”

They said Harrenhal was cursed, and you had started to suspect the raven-haired beauty was one of the ghosts that haunted it.

—

You weren’t sure what happened. One moment you’re being informed your uncle has been spotted on Vhagar nearby, and the next Alys head is underneath the skirts of your thick black dress, buried between your thighs, making you temporarily forget about the looming threat. You throw your head back as you buck your hips upward, and Alys slides her tongue further inside you.

Climaxing, you lay back on the bed, feeling limp. You expect the other woman to stop, but soft moans start falling from your mouth again as quickly as they stopped when Alys starts licking your oversensitive clit.

“Oh, fuck. That feels so good.”

Everything starts to become a haze of euphoria…

“Oh, little niece, I’m guessing the rumor of your virtue being intact was indeed only a rumor.”

You snap your head up, and you meet your uncle Aemond’s eye. How did he find you right away? Has someone told him where to find you? Did hearing your moans lead him right to you? Your mind was too fuzzy to think straight. You detested him. Kinslayer. Yet, Aemond, seeing you in such a vulnerable position somehow thrills you. You had wanted to wait until marriage before being touched. The stain of bastardy wasn’t something you ever wanted for your future children to experience.

“I am a maiden.”

Aemond scoffs, not believing a word you say.

“She speaks the truth, my prince.” Alys brings her head out from beneath your skirt and teases a finger between your folds, then slides it inside you. The intrusion was slightly painful, but not completely unpleasant. “Look at her face; see how she reacts to my touch. The princess has never felt pain or pleasure like it before.”

Aemond sits behind you on the bed, and the smile on his face fills you with nothing but hatred and venom.

“Craven!”

“You little-”

“Uh, gods!” You squeeze your eyes shut when Alys adds a second finger. She pushes the fabric hiding her hand up to your waist so your uncle can observe what she is doing to you. “I—I—”

You weren’t even sure what you were trying to say. Aemond notices your nails digging into your palms as your fists clench together and takes pity on you. He links your fingers with yours and holds your hand above your head until you climax again.

—

The last twenty-four seem like a hazy memory; you weren’t sure if it was adrenaline or magic causing everything to feel so... strange. You and Aemond married in an impromptu Valyrian wedding ceremony. One that would surely anger both your mothers, but in time they would see the benefits.

“It’s for the good of the realm.”

The witch's words echo in your head as she rubs circles on your clit while she uses her skilled tongue on the prince. You and Aemond sit beside each other on the edge of a large bed naked as Alys ‘prepares’ both of you to consummate your marriage. You still hated and blamed Aemond for what happened to your brother, but Alys convinced you that this would be mutually beneficial. You have gained the power of Vhagar as a dragon for the blacks, and Aemond would one day possess the power he seeks by marrying the heir to the throne.

A flurry of jealousy shoots through you as Alys gags on your husband's cock, but you can’t let either of them know that, so you hold her silky dark hair out of her face. You were equally possessive and proud, a trait of the dragon.

After a few more moments, you say, “Perhaps we should get on with it, uncle.”

Alys pulls away from the both of you; she wipes the saliva off her chin, then begins to undress. Aemond chuckles as he moves off the bed and stands between your legs. “Indeed, we should, wife. Lean back on the bed.”

When you lay back, Aemond lines himself up and slowly pushes his cock in. As you whine, feeling yourself being stretched around Aemond’s cock, Alys climbs onto the bed beside you and palms at your breasts. “In four moons, these will start to fill with milk to feed the prince’s babe. A healthy boy.”

The thought of you having heavy, swollen teats leaking with milk because of him causes Aemond to thrust into you faster. “You are mine to breed, and you’ll take my cock every night like a good wife until your stomach has swollen.”

“Day and night,” Alys giggles.

Feeling bold, you take one of Aemond’s hands, which is gripping your hip tightly, and bring it to your clit. Knowing what you want, he begins rubbing at it quickly. You didn’t want him to take pride in knowing how good he’s making you feel, so you latch your lips around Alys hard nipple to muffle your moans.

He groans, feeling you clench down on him. It doesn’t take Aemond much longer to spill his seed inside you, and even after he cums, his cock is still hard.

You remove your mouth from Alys breast. “Move up the bed.”

She does as you say, and you roll around on your stomach. Noticing Aemond’s clothes that have been tossed onto the floor, you bend down and retrieve his blade.

Alys stares at you wide-eyed when you spread her thighs open and use the blade to cut her small cloth off, then toss it back onto the floor. You had considered teasing her with the blade, but seeing the wet patch on the flimsy fabric covering her cunny, you decided to please her instead. You swipe your thumb through her folds, gathering wetness, before putting pressure on her clit. Arching your back, you look over your shoulder, hoping Aemond would have gotten the hint, but he looks lost in a trance, watching as your finger slides into the other woman with ease.

“Aemond…”

He takes the cue and slides his cock back inside you. His thrusts are rougher this time. You turn your attention back to Alys and start licking her clit while adding a second finger. Her soft moans encourage you to keep going, even after Aemond spills his seed inside you for a second time and makes you cum again with his fingers. You don’t stop sucking and licking at Alys clit until her thighs stop trembling.

You lean forward and rest your head on Alys soft breasts. Aemond slumps onto the bed, exhausted. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close. With one hand, you gently stroke the back of his long silver hair, and with the other, you run your thumb over Alys bottom lip.

“I believe in what you tell me.”

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us.

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Epilogue

[earlseyebrows]

Daemon seeing young rhaenyra stitching up jaehaerys had me so fucking terrified

cant wait to see aemond in ep 4.

[lionneee]

You ask Aemond about Alys

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: taking of sexual themes and toxic relationship, Alys.•

Modern!Aemond x Older!Modern!Alys

Aemond and his girlfriend had just come home after dinner with some of their friends, when she asked him something he never would have heard.

“Tell me about Alys.” She asked as they took off their jacket and coat, slipping out of their shoes.

His expression hardened at the name of his ex-girlfriend. He hated hearing her name, remembering her.

“No.” He said in a cold tone, taking her coat and hanging it as she put away their shoes.

“Why not?” She insisted as they went in the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and the water from the fridge.

“Because I don’t want to.” He grunted, pouring the water in the glasses. His tone is still the same and he keeps staring at the glasses ahead of him. He remains silent, simply refusing to say anything about his ex, as in his mind he replays in his head what happened the last time he saw her. He closed his eye and shook his head, ashamed of that memory.

“I want to know about her.” She said, walking to him, hugging him from behind and resting her head on his back.

He sighed and got silent for a second. His tone became serious as he started speaking. His eyes were focused on the wall ahead of him.

“Why do you have to stick your nose in something that doesn’t regard you? Uh?!”

He was pissed, he knew she would have kept asking until he would eventually tell her. She pulled away from him, taking her glass and leaning back on the table.

“Jeez, what has she done to make you react like this now?”

He turned towards her but he kept his eye fixed on the wall ahead. She could tell he was thinking of something unpleasant as he stayed silent for a moment before sighing and starting to speak again.

“You don’t need to know what she did, okay?”

He didn’t look at her as he waited for her response, but his voice is not as angry as a moment ago.

“But I want to.”

God, she was stubborn. 

His tone is still serious, but he doesn’t reply right away, he looks down at the floor, and after a few seconds he speaks again:

“Why do you want to know that so bad?”

“I’m curious.” She raised her shoulders as if she was saying something obvious. “You told me she was older than you.” She added then

Hearing the word ‘older’ he seemed to be more uncomfortable. He sighed deeply and he spoke again. 

“Yes she was older than me.” He admitted coldly.

“How much?” She sipped her water, interested.

“She was thirty-five.” He glanced at her to catch her reaction, but she looked calm, just curiosity in her expression. She took her time to ask her next question.

“How old were you?”

Silence. His tone is now more stern.

“Seventeen.” He kept looking at her, studying her expression, but it didn’t falter, he still saw no judgment in her face.

“So… you were underage.” She stated. He stayed silent again for a while before speaking.

“Yes, I was.” His eye drifted back to the floor, as he clenched and unclenched his hand around the glass. She pressed her lips together.

“How did you meet her?” She took another sip of her glass, looking away from him.

The question brings back some memories, but he remains serious. His tone was more bitter, as he turned his head to the side.

“At a party. Aegon dragged me into a club.”

She smiled to break the tension, and hummed in amusement.

“That sounds like Aegon.”

He stayed silent for a moment before slowly nodding his head a bit. She could tell he started speaking with more anger. He’s not yelling, not answering meanly, but she could see he was holding back.

“Yeah, sounds like him. And it was because of him I even saw her in the very first place.”

She hummed and looked away. She was the one to bring up the topic, yet she felt uncomfortable hearing about Alys, but since he was answering her, she decided to keep going.

“So how did you two… you know… got together?”

His tone is colder and the bitterness in his voice increases.

“She approached me.” He stares at the water in his glass. If he thought about it enough, he could still smell her perfume, or hear her voice, even if it was now… five years ago.

“Mh. What was she like?”

She hated that she wanted to know that, but she was curious, she wanted the image of that woman in her head, even if what he could say would have hurt her or made her burn with jealousy.

He stops for a moment, thinking about how he could describe her.

“Dark eyes and hair, a bit curvy. Always nails, hair and makeup done. She always used this… red lipstick of hers. Rarely saw her without it. She always wore dresses that would shape her perfectly and show her breast.”

She was perfect.

She looked away, feeling a pain in her chest, and jealous of how that woman apparently always appeared perfect. Aemond looked at her, he put down his glass on the counter and stepped closer to her, taking her hand and kissing its back.

“She was beautiful, charming, and charismatic, but she was manipulative, mean and...” He sighed and looked away, leaving the phrase unfinished. “She acted in a kind and loving way towards me, at least in the beginning.”

“What about after?” She looked up at him, as he cupped her cheek with his hand, and she covered it with her own hand.

“It became a nightmare.” She furrowed her eyebrows, confused and concerned.

“What do you mean?” She asked worriedly.

He stays silent for a few seconds but his anger is obvious in his voice.

“She changed, or, well, she showed herself for who she really is. She was no longer the woman I met at the club. Her charming and loving behavior disappeared and she started to treat me horribly. She cheated on me often. Despite that she managed to keep me in her claws for three years.” He said in a mixture of shame and anger.

“How did she treat you?” She asked then, getting more worried.

Silence. His tone was very bitter and he seemed to be almost on the verge of losing his temper. This was a sensitive topic for him.

“She was verbally... and physically abusive towards me. She hit me on several occasions and did several other horrendous things I’d rather not describe.” He couldn’t look at her. He felt stupid. He felt stupid even after all that time, and he was ashamed of telling her how stupid he had been.

“Then why did you stay with her?”

At first, he didn’t answer her question and his tone remained bitter and frustrated as he stayed silent for a moment. When he started speaking again, he was clearly not happy to answer the question she just asked. He still sounded bitter and angry as he started to explain.

“Because she made me feel she was the only person who really understood me, that she was the only one who truly loved me.... That I wasn't worth it and I was nothing... And that no one else would ever want me other than her, or other things like that..”

She was surprised. 

What the fuck?

She was… horrible. Who could even think of saying such things? 

“… Wha- What kind of other things did she say to you?”

He looked at her in despair, but he knew she wanted to know, so he just talked.

“She used to say that I was ugly, that I was a disappointment, that I was too insecure, and that I was weak...  that I would never be enough... I would have never been able to find another woman... That I would be alone forever.”

She felt like crying. He had to go through all of this? She wanted to keep him close and protect him from everything, everyone. He didn’t deserve that. Sure, he was complicated and a bit of a douche sometimes, but no one deserves such treatment. No one.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. She was cruel.” 

He stayed silent for a moment but his tone indicated that her words helped him calm down a bit. He was less angry and less tense.

“Yes... She really was cruel. But I guess that's who she was all along, and I didn't notice it back then… But I think what I’ll never forgive her is that she made me a freak.”

She looked at him pained and even more confused.

“What? What does it mean she made you a freak?”

He didn’t respond right away and his tone became much more frustrated, he looked… ashamed.

“She was… my first time, and she was into some… crazy, disgusting things… and she kind of passed them to me, or at least, now I’m into some of those things too.”

She paused. She tried to elaborate his words. 

“Like what?”

“I told you they’re disgusting. Why do you want to know? You’ll only get scared or… or you’ll be disgusted with me.”

She frowned.

“What? No. I won’t. Aemond, I won’t. Tell me.”

He seemed to consider your words again and again, taking his time to speak. He was embarrassed but he nodded and slowly started speaking again. He still kept his eyes down as he spoke. 

“She was into painful things. Some very unpleasant things.”

“…Okay. Like what?” She softly encouraged him to say more.

The uncomfortable atmosphere was almost palpable. This was not a subject he wanted to talk about, but still, she could feel the burden that was placed on him. He was silent but finally he started to speak again, he sounded much more bitter. She could tell that this was something that really bothered him and hurt deep down but he would not go into much detail.

“She liked it rough. Like really rough. More rough than what we’ve ever done. She liked… to be slapped, she liked it violent.” He paused, as if to contemplate if he should have gone further, say it all. He sighed and he decided to be honest. “She liked some roleplay, but she was always the dominant part. So… I started fantasizing, and… I… I got into… like haunting roleplay. Haunting the prey and… once I caught her…” Rape her. He couldn’t finish it. He was too ashamed to say it out loud, but it was clear she understood. Yet, all she did was nod, she didn’t judge him. Though it was new for her seeing Aemond ashamed of something regarding sex. He was usually straight forward, confident.

“Obviously that would be consensual, I…” He sighed and looked away.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“No, I really think you don’t. I like it violent, disgustingly violent. I want to be the one to give it, not receive it.” He growled, as if he wanted to scare her away, as if he wanted her to be disgusted by him.

“I do understand, Aemond. I do.” She repeated softly. He shook his head and passed his hand over his face, rubbing his eye.

“How can you not be disgusted?” He mumbled, his face getting red with a mixture of frustration, anger and shame.

“You… You like what you like, there is no point in judging you. I know I can trust you.” She said with a soft smile. Aemond looked at her.

She was perfect.

It was all he could think. He leant forward suddenly and kissed her deeply, as she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and kept him close.

She was perfect.

He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, drinking in all of her, her taste, smell, her soft touch.

She was perfect, and she was his.

He pulled away and she smiled at him, caressing his cheek.

“Can I ask more?” She asked, and Aemond smiled. Her curiosity amused him, he was even more amused as now she asked instead of just insisting. He knew she was dying to know more.

“Yes.” He leant back on the counter as she unwrapped her arms from his neck and caressed his arms.

“Did she do something you didn’t like?” She asked then. Aemond nodded.

“Yes, but I… I always let her do it anyway.” He said, and she nodded, waiting for him to continue talking.

“She would… hurt me. She liked painful things, humiliation, degradation and violence.”

She bit her lower lip as she looked at him in pity. She knew very well Aemond was not into those kinds of things, actually, he was right the opposite. He had enough trouble during  his childhood with his eye and bullying that he could never handle going back to being ashamed or weakened because of it, again. She put her glass down and she went to hug him.

“Oh, baby… I’m sorry I’ve made you go this far. I was just really curious.” She says sadly. Aemond hugs her back but after a while he pulls her away.

“No, it’s fine. I want to tell you.” He rubbed the back of his head as he looked away. “You might be the best person to tell this stuff to.” He added. She smiled softly, nodding.

“She… she used to treat me like a child, actually. If I did something wrong she would… punish me, let’s say that. She would ride me as punishment, slapping me and degrading me as she did so.” He took her hand as he looked down at it, and he started playing with her nails. “She was mean, before, and during sex, but she… she was nicer after it, telling me now I could go back to being good for her… she played nice for a while, so I wouldn’t go away. Not that I would have anyway, I… It was like I was addicted to her. She knew it and she used it. She used me.” Aemond clenched his jaw tightly as she kept looking at him worriedly.

“Aemond… but you got out of it.” She stated, putting a hand over his to reassure him. His expression contorted into one of disgust, and shame.

“I… It wasn’t nice, what I did. How I left.” He said in disgust. She put a hand on his cheek and turned his face to her, smiling at him softly, looking him in the eye.

“I’m sure she deserved what you did.” She said confident, but Aemond immediately looked away.

“No. Don’t say that, you don’t know that. You can’t know that.” He said angrily.

“Aemond, after what you’ve told me, I doubt you did so much worse than what she did. You were…” She shook her head, not really knowing what to say, but Aemond continued for her.

“What? I was what? Younger? I should have known better.” He said with his voice full of bitterness. There was a long moment of silence, as she looked down as he kept playing with her nails and fingers, then he went back to looking at her.

“If you could go back, would you have done something different?” She askec then, still looking down. He sighed and he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“No. I wouldn’t. What I did to her… It was… fair, but that doesn’t change the fact that… It was horrible.” Again, she took her time to answer. Then, she looked back up to him.

“Just like she treated you.” Aemond pressed his lips together and turned his head to the side, frustrated. She kept defending what he did like it was right, and he hated it. He felt guilty, he felt he had to feel guilty. 

“You just can’t say things like that. You weren’t fucking there, you know nothing.”He spat out. she didn’t get offended, she knew he wasn’t angry with her, he was angry with himself, with his past, with Alys.

“Is she alive? Yes. Is she fine? Yes.” She stated, and keeping his head turned, he glanced at her.

“You don’t know what I did to her.” She nodded, and took a deep breath.

“Do you want to tell me?” She asked softly, caressing his hand.

“No. Not yet.” He looked back down, as images of that memory flashed in front of him.

She hugged him, and he immediately hid his face in her neck, bending down due to the height difference. He just wanted to forget, and be happy, even if he wasn’t sure he deserved it. He wasn’t even sure if he deserved to be with someone like her. She passed her fingers in his hair as she massaged his scalp.

He loved her.

Is this what love is? 

All he wanted to do was keep her close all the time, feel her all the time, look at her all the time. He never had enough of her, not even of her stubbornness. She had her attitude, but just as he had his. Yet, he thought, he never felt he could fit better with someone else. He knew she was the one.

He hugged her tighter as she responded by kissing his neck.

She was the one. He would never let her go. There was no better place for her better than his side, just like for him, it was her side. She pulled away from the hug and took his hand, talking softly.

“Let’s go lay down, yeah?”

Taglist:@ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy

[xxnymeriatargaryenxx]

I want him to fuck me so hard that it hurts!! I want him to take ALL of his anger and frustrations out on me…. I want to be his stress relief at the end of a long day 🥺🥺🥺🐱🐱💦💦💦💕💕💕

imagine going multiple rounds with him to the point of overstimulation…… feeling him grip your hips and waist just to get deep enough 😳, you feel so good he can’t pull out!! creampies 24/7

most of the time, he’s in such a hurry to fuck you that he doesn’t even bother to take his clothes off… he just loosens his trousers and pulls his cock out 🤭🤭 but YOUR clothes are definitely coming off

95% of the time aemond fucks you with his eye-patch still on because he is too occupied to remove it 🤷‍♀️ he’s also just plain tired.

[seafarersdream]

Could I request Ewan Mitchell X reader :)

Maybe something where they work on set together and he hears that reader likes rock music so they go to a concert together?

Birds of a Feather (Ewan Mitchell x Y/N)

Y/N L/N plays Alys Rivers, but off-screen, it’s Ewan who’s getting bewitched. He thought he’d spark some chemistry for the cameras, but he’s in deeper than he planned. Word count: 4,2k

TW // Strong language and profanities, smoking and alcohol use, mild sexual content.

“Fuck, is that Rage I hear?”

Ewan Mitchell’s voice cut through the noise like a knife. Y/N L/N turned her head, still puffing on her cigarette, her eyebrows shooting up. She pulled one earbud out, letting it dangle against her collarbone.

“Depends,” she said, a teasing grin playing on her lips. “What’s it to you?”

Ewan’s face lit up with a mischievous grin, his eyes bright under the studio lights. “Mate, I’m a sucker for a bit of RATM. Didn’t peg you for a rock fan, though,” he replied, hands shoved casually into the pockets of his worn leather jacket, a faint good ol’ England drizzle making the material glisten.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Seriously? You think I’d play a witch in medieval times and not have a thing for rebellious rock?” She took a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling smoke that curled lazily in the damp Watford air. “I’m disappointed, Ewan. Thought you’d have me figured out by now.”

Ewan stepped closer, his boots crunching on the gravel beneath. The smell of coffee and bacon butties drifted over from the food cart, mixing with the sharp scent of cigarette smoke. The studio lot was buzzing with crew members, some rushing around with props, others laughing in groups, and the usual hum of film equipment humming in the background. But all of that seemed to fade as he locked eyes with her.

“Guess I’ve got a lot to catch up on, yeah?” he said, tilting his head slightly, his voice softer now, almost testing the waters. “Thought we could grab a coffee or something. Get to know each other. You know… build that Aemond and Alys chemistry they’re all banking on.”

Y/N smirked, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “What, you think we need to build chemistry?” she challenged, a playful edge to her tone. “I thought we were just supposed to, I dunno, act.”

Ewan let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t bullshit me, love. You and I both know this whole on-screen spark thing doesn’t just happen. Gotta work for it.” He took out his own pack of cigarettes, offering one to her. “And who knows, maybe we’ll actually end up liking each other.”

She took the cigarette with a raised eyebrow, tucking it behind her ear for later. “Fine,” she replied. “Coffee sounds good. But if you think I’m gonna pretend to like you just because some big-shot director thinks we should, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Ewan grinned, lighting his cigarette, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement. “That’s what I’m counting on, dove.”

They walked towards the little coffee stand set up near the trailers, the air thick with the smell of rain and the distant rumble of thunder. The crew was still buzzing around, setting up for the next scene, but Ewan only had eyes for her.

“So, you got a favorite Rage song, or is Guerrilla Radio just your go-to for when you’re bored on set?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged, leaning against the counter as she placed her order. “Depends on my mood. But yeah, that one’s a banger. Bulls on Parade if I’m feeling a bit more… intense.” She shot him a sidelong glance. “What about you, Mitchell? You a poser, or do you have actual taste?”

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate through the air. “Touché. I’d say Know Your Enemy speaks to me. You know, all that anti-establishment, fuck-the-system vibe. Kind of like me.”

“Wow, deep,” she deadpanned, though her lips twitched into a smirk. “So you’re the rebellious type, huh?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Depends on who’s asking, love.”

She felt a spark run down her spine, something electric buzzing in the air between them. “Alright, I’ll bite,” she said, taking her coffee from the barista with a nod. “What’s your deal, Ewan? What’s got you all eager to cozy up to me?”

He took a sip of his coffee, considering his words. “Honestly? You intrigue me. The way you’ve got everyone eating out of your hand on set, but still keep this air of mystery. I want to crack that code.”

Y/N’s smile widened, but her eyes stayed sharp, playful. “Good luck with that. I’m not some open book for you to read, Mitchell. You might find some things you’re not ready for.”

Ewan’s grin only grew, a flicker of excitement dancing in his gaze. “Oh, I’m ready. And I’ve got time. Plenty of time.”

She gave a short, amused laugh. “We’ll see about that. But don’t think I’m easy to impress. You’re gonna have to do better than coffee and rock music trivia.”

He raised his cup in a mock toast. “Challenge accepted, L/N.”

Ewan took another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke swirl around his lips before exhaling slowly. “So, come on then,” he prodded, his voice carrying a low, teasing lilt. “You can’t drop a Rage song and then just leave it at that. What else are you into? Gotta be more to you than just some classic ‘fuck the man’ anthems.”

Y/N flicked ash off her cigarette, eyeing him with a small, conspiratorial smile. “You’re looking at a die-hard Deftones fan, mate. White Pony is my Bible. I swear by it.” She paused, a flicker of excitement sparking in her eyes. “Got the album cover tattooed on my ribs, actually. Wanna see?”

Ewan’s brows shot up, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Bloody hell, you’re hardcore,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of admiration. “Yeah, show me. I’m not gonna say no to that.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Cheeky bastard.” But she lifted the hem of her shirt just a fraction, revealing the tattoo of said pony against her ribcage, the ink standing out against her skin. His eyes traveled over the design, appreciation evident in his expression.

“That’s sick,” he said, leaning in a bit closer, his voice lower now, almost a murmur. “Always had a thing for a girl with a good tat.”

Y/N dropped her shirt back down, feeling the rush of cool air against her skin, but his gaze was still warm on her. “Deftones, huh?” he continued. “Got a favorite track?”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Depends on the day. But Cherry Waves always gets me. There’s just something about that slow, seductive build. It’s like… drowning in sound, in the best way.”

Ewan nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, I get that. Chino’s voice is like, sex in audio form. Never thought I’d meet someone who’d get that vibe.”

Y/N chuckled, but her eyes were sharp, amused. “And you? What’s your poison, Prince Regent?”

He scratched his jaw, the faint stubble rasping under his nails, a self-deprecating grin spreading across his face. “Ah, I’m a bit more basic, I suppose. Metallica’s my go-to. You’ve probably noticed,” he added, tugging at the faded Metallica t-shirt he was wearing.

She glanced at the shirt, rolling her eyes with a grin. “Subtle. But hey, I can’t blame you. Metallica’s the real deal. Those riffs could wake the dead.”

“Right?” Ewan agreed enthusiastically. “And there’s something about those old-school thrash vibes that just… I dunno, lights a fire in you, you know? Makes you wanna break shit.”

“Or at least headbang until your neck snaps,” Y/N added with a laugh. She leaned back, crossing her arms, her demeanor relaxed. “But come on, be honest. How many Metallica shirts do you actually own?”

He scratched the back of his head, looking slightly sheepish. “Too many, probably. Enough that I could wear a different one every day of the week.”

Y/N shook her head, mock disbelief on her face. “Sheesh, you’re such a fanboy.”

“Oi, don’t knock it,” he shot back, grinning. “At least I’m consistent. Plus, you’ve got a Deftones tattoo. I think we’re both in pretty deep.”

She nodded, conceding the point. “Fair enough. So what do you do when you’re not, y’know, worshipping at the altar of Hetfield?”

He laughed, a soft rumble that seemed to cut through the cold, wet air. “Not much, honestly. Hang out with mates, go to gigs when I can. Read a bit, usually some weird existential stuff that just makes me more confused about life.” He paused, studying her. “What about you?”

She shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Same, really. Love a good gig. I read too, but I’m more into the horror stuff. Stephen King, Shirley Jackson, you know the drill. And, obviously, I smoke way too much.” She waved her cigarette as if to prove a point.

Ewan nodded, a spark of interest in his eyes. “Horror, huh? Never took you for a gore enthusiast.”

“Not gore,” she corrected, leaning in closer, her voice almost conspiratorial. “Psychological. The shit that gets under your skin, makes you think. I’m not about blood and guts; I’m about the mindfuck.”

He blinked, clearly impressed. “Damn. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “I aim to keep people guessing, Mitchell. Keeps life interesting.”

He tilted his head, grinning. “Alright then. How about a deal? I’ll show you my favorite dive bar in Camden, and you can tell me more about how you like to mess with people’s heads. We can drink, play some pool, maybe even argue about whether Deftones or Metallica is the superior band. Fair?”

Y/N leaned back, considering him, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “That’s a dangerous proposition, Ewan. You sure you can handle me?”

He held her gaze, his smile steady, a challenge in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure, witch. I’m fucking counting on it.”

The space between them felt smaller, more intimate, and the air around them buzzed. Whatever was brewing between them, it wasn’t just for the cameras.

And both of them knew it.

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The rain had let up just enough for them to venture out of the trailers, and now they found themselves huddled under a flimsy awning, kebabs in hand. The smoky scent of grilled meat mixed with the dampness of the air, a comforting aroma against the steady patter of raindrops. Y/N wiped a bit of sauce from her chin with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on Ewan as he chewed thoughtfully, the wheels in his mind clearly turning.

“So,” Y/N started, around a mouthful of kebab, “this whole Alys and Aemond thing… it’s twisted as fuck, right? Not exactly a love story, more like—”

“More like two leeches feeding off each other,” Ewan finished for her, wiping his mouth with a napkin and nodding. “It’s not the classic star-crossed lovers bullshit. It’s darker… messier. There’s nothing romantic about it.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small, approving smile. “Exactly. It’s like, Aemond spares her not because he loves her, but because she’s useful, she’s… an asset. And Alys, she’s not some helpless damsel. She’s got her own agenda. She’s in it for the power, the protection. Maybe even a little revenge.”

Ewan took a deep breath, leaning back against the wall, his expression thoughtful. “And then there’s all that shit about her being a witch or enchantress,” he said. “Bastard daughter of Lyonel Strong, maybe from an older generation… probably served as a wet nurse to Harwin and Larys. Could’ve even been around when Lyonel himself was a kid. Some say she bathed in maidens’ blood to stay young. I mean, fuck, that’s some crazy lore to have.”

“Right?” Y/N leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “And we’re supposed to sell this on screen. The idea that she’s at least forty, but looks young as hell, unnaturally young. There’s all these rumors swirling around her. She’s supposed to be this mysterious figure who might be pulling strings in the background, using Aemond as much as he’s using her.”

Ewan nodded, taking another bite of his kebab. “Yeah, that’s the crux of it. They’re both parasites, just leeching off each other. Alys needs Aemond for survival, for the power he brings as a prince, and Aemond… maybe he’s just fucked up enough to be into that, into her mystery, her darkness. But there’s no love. It’s not tender, it’s—”

“—purely transactional,” Y/N interjected, finishing his thought. “He keeps her alive, she gives him… I don’t know, maybe an edge? A sense of power? She’s like a trophy, a spoil of war he doesn’t quite understand but doesn’t want to let go of either.”

Ewan’s eyes sparkled with a strange kind of enthusiasm. “And the weird thing is, that’s exactly what makes it interesting. It’s not some fairytale. It’s raw, it’s real. Like, imagine how we could play that dynamic on screen—two people circling each other, never quite trusting, never fully connecting, but somehow bound together in this fucked-up dance.”

Y/N grinned, her eyes lighting up with the same fire. “Oh, I’m all in. Let’s lean into that. Make the audience uncomfortable. Make them question who’s really in control. Aemond’s got the power, the title, the dragon, but Alys? She’s got her own kind of power. A power that scares him.”

Ewan shifted closer, his shoulder brushing against hers as he leaned in. “Yeah, I see that. Aemond’s not just sparing her because he’s merciful; he’s sparing her because there’s something in her that speaks to the darker parts of him.”

Y/N nodded eagerly. “And Alys—she’s no fool. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s playing him, playing this twisted game where she’s both victim and victor. She’s a survivor, and she’ll do whatever it takes to stay alive, even if it means manipulating a prince.”

He laughed softly, his breath misting in the cold air. “It’s almost like they’re two sides of the same fucked-up coin. Both willing to use whatever they’ve got to survive. She’s his spoil of war, but he’s her key to something bigger.”

Y/N tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “So, how do we show that on screen? How do we make it clear that they’re both… parasites, but also predators in their own right?”

Ewan leaned forward, his voice low and intense. “I think we play with the power dynamic. Like, in one scene, Aemond thinks he’s got her under his thumb, but then there’s a moment—a glance, a whisper, something—that makes him second-guess. Makes the audience second-guess. Is she afraid, or is she playing him? And then in the next scene, she’s the one in control, but there’s always that tension, that threat of violence just under the surface.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes alight with excitement. “Yes, yes. And we need to make it physical too. Not in a sexy way, but in a way that shows their dependence on each other. Like, when they touch, it’s almost painful. It’s not about passion, it’s about possession. And the audience should feel that. Feel the discomfort, the unease.”

Ewan’s grin widened, his excitement palpable. “Fuck, I love this. It’s gonna be wild. People aren’t gonna know whether to hate them, root for them, or just feel fucking sick watching them.”

“Perfect,” Y/N agreed, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Because that’s exactly how it should be. No clear lines, no easy answers. Just two messed-up characters.”

Ewan chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna make one hell of a fucked-up power couple on screen, love.”

She smirked, finishing the last bite of her kebab and wiping her hands. “Well, if we’re gonna do this, we better do it right. Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget.”

And just like that, in the middle of a rainy, half-forgotten corner of a studio lot, they laid the groundwork for something undeniably electric. Something that would blur the lines, and the strange, unsettling dance that would soon unfold on screen.

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The neon sign above the dive bar flickered erratically, casting a dim pink glow over the rain-slicked street. Ewan leaned against a brick wall, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his breath misting in the cool night air. He checked his watch, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he spotted Y/N approaching, her hair damp from the drizzle, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“About time, rockstar,” he called out, pushing off. “Was starting to think you’d chickened out.”

Y/N shot him a mock glare, pulling the collar of her leather jacket tighter around her neck. “Not a fucking chance, Mitchell. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” She stopped in front of him, her breath visible in the cold. “Besides, I’m dying to see you butcher a Sex Pistols song.”

He laughed. “Oh, I’m gonna butcher it all right, but at least I’ll do it with style.”

When they entered Ewan’s favourite haunt, the place was already alive with noise — a crowd of people spilling out onto the street, laughter and shouts mixing with the sound of music bleeding through the walls. The bar itself was a dingy little hole-in-the-wall joint, the kind of place that reeked of spilled beer, sweat, and stale cigarettes — perfect for a night of raucous fun.

Ewan grabbed her hand without a second thought, pulling her through the throng of people, weaving between groups, dodging spilled drinks and overenthusiastic dancers. His hand felt warm and solid around hers, and she felt a thrill run up her spine as he led her toward the back, where the stage was set up for karaoke.

They found a spot near the bar, grabbed a couple of beers, and settled in to watch the chaos unfold. Someone was already up there belting out Anarchy in the UK, the crowd shouting along, half the lyrics lost in the drunken fervor.

“Alright,” Ewan said, leaning close to her ear to be heard over the noise. “What’s the game plan, then? Are we going full-on punk, or are we gonna scare everyone off with some Deftones?”

Y/N laughed, taking a swig of her beer. “Let’s save the Deftones for when everyone’s had a few more drinks. Gotta build up to that kind of intensity.” She tapped his shoulder with a teasing grin. “But I’m down to start with some Pistols. Pretty Vacant? God Save the Queen? What do you think?”

“Pretty Vacant it is,” Ewan declared, slamming his empty bottle down on the bar. “We’ll go up there, make some noise, and show these amateurs how it’s done.”

A few minutes later, they were on stage, the microphone in Ewan’s hand, and Y/N standing beside him, both of them grinning like idiots. The crowd cheered as the opening chords blared through the speakers, and Ewan launched into the song with a reckless abandon, his voice loud and raw, not giving a damn if he hit the notes or not.

Y/N joined in, her voice harmonizing with his, the two of them bouncing around, pulling ridiculous dance moves and throwing their arms around each other, their laughter spilling over the lyrics. Ewan’s voice cracked on the high notes, but it only made her laugh harder, and she nudged him with her shoulder, causing him to almost drop the mic.

“Oi, careful!” he shouted over the music, his smile wide and infectious.

“What?” she yelled back, still grinning. “Can’t handle a bit of roughhousing, Mitchell?”

He laughed, spinning her around in a playful twirl before pulling her close, their bodies pressed together as they sang, their voices blending into one chaotic sound. The crowd cheered louder, feeding off their energy, clapping and shouting as Ewan and Y/N tore through the song with an unfiltered joy that made everyone in the room feel like they were part of something wild, something free.

When the song ended, they stumbled off stage, breathless and laughing, grabbing fresh beers from the bar. Ewan’s hand found hers again, a reflex now, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

“You,” he said, panting, “are a fucking riot.”

Y/N raised her bottle in a mock toast. “Right back at ya. Didn’t think you had that much crazy in you, Mitchell.”

He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Stick with me, dove, and you’ll see plenty more.”

They spent the next few hours hopping back on stage, belting out punk classics, pulling out the most ridiculous dance moves they could think of, egging each other on. At some point, Ewan dropped to his knees, sliding across the sticky floor in a terrible imitation of an 80s rock star, while Y/N howled with laughter, egging him on with chants of “Encore! Encore!”

They took breaks to smoke out back, leaning against the graffitied wall of the bar, their breath mingling with the cold night air, the world spinning around them. Ewan lit a cigarette, passing it to her, their fingers brushing in the exchange.

“Alright,” Y/N said, taking a drag, her voice a little hoarse from all the singing and shouting. “I’ll admit it. You know how to show a girl a good time.”

Ewan’s grin was bright and unapologetic. “Told you, didn’t I? Never should’ve doubted my ability.”

She laughed, flicking ash off the cigarette. “I’m certainly not complaining.”

They smoked in comfortable silence for a moment, the noise from inside spilling out in waves.

Ewan took a final drag and flicked his cigarette away, turning to face her, his expression suddenly a bit more serious, though his eyes still held that glint of mischief. “So, Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “What do you say we make this a regular thing? You and me, beers, bad dancing, and a hell of a lot of noise?”

She smirked, tilting her head slightly. “You offering to be my partner in crime, Mitchell?”

He took a step closer, their faces inches apart now. “I’m offering to be whatever you want, love. As long as it means more nights like this.”

Y/N’s smile softened, her voice almost a whisper. “Careful, Ewan. I might just take you up on that.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Good,” he replied, his voice steady. “Because I was hoping you would.”

And with that, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that tasted of beer, cigarettes, and something new — something neither of them could quite name yet, but both were eager to explore. The night felt endless, the city alive around them.

The sound of the door creaking open was drowned out by the music and drunken shouts pouring from the bar, but the voice that followed cut through the night like a whip crack.

“Oi! Get a fucking room, you two!”

Ewan and Y/N broke apart, breathless and startled, still close enough that their noses brushed. Ewan’s grin turned sheepish as he glanced over Y/N’s shoulder to find a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and a smirk on his face, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The bartender, Harry, stood there, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

“Christ, Ewan,” Harry drawled, lighting up his smoke with a flick of his lighter. “Have some decency, will ya?”

Ewan laughed, his hand still on Y/N’s waist, a playful glint in his eye. “Can’t help it, mate. Your place has that kind of magic, you know?”

Harry snorted, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Magic, my arse. More like too many cheap beers and not enough sense.” He nodded at Y/N, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You got your work cut out for you with this one, love. He’s a right handful.”

Y/N grinned, leaning back slightly but not quite letting go of Ewan. “Oh, I’m starting to get that,” she teased, glancing up at Ewan. “But I think I can handle him.”

Ewan chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Hey, I’m standing right here, you know.”

Harry gave a mock bow. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your little love fest. Just came out for a smoke, but if you’re gonna go all Romeo and Juliet on me, at least take it to the alley or something. Don’t need to see any more of your face-sucking than I already have.”

Ewan’s laugh was loud and unapologetic. “Alright, alright, you old bastard, we’ll take it elsewhere. Don’t want to scar you for life.”

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Too late for that, mate. But do me a favor — keep it PG-13 inside, yeah?”

Y/N gave a mock salute. “We’ll try our best.”

Harry shook his head, still chuckling to himself as he turned back toward the door. “I’ll hold you to that. And Ewan, you owe me a pint for that little show.”

“Deal,” Ewan shot back, still grinning as Harry disappeared back into the bar. He turned to Y/N, his expression softening just a fraction. “Guess we’ve got an audience now, huh?”

Y/N smirked, her voice teasing. “Seems like it. So, what do you say? Wanna go scandalize the rest of the neighborhood, or…?”

Ewan’s grin turned mischievous again. “Lead the way, love. I’m game if you are.”

They left the warm glow of the bar’s back entrance, stepping further into the night, their laughter echoing down the narrow alleyway as they disappeared into the London streets, leaving behind only the faint smell of smoke and the memory of a kiss that promised many more to come.