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missglaskin · 2 years ago

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Yan!Targaryen Men (Jacaerys, Maegor, Aemond, Aegon I, Baelon, Daemon, Viserys III, Aegon II, Rhaegar) with sister!Darling

Note-I hope this doesn’t get a rating like my other posts. Also, I don’t specify if the reader is adopted or not to be exclusive

There’s no greater love than one found at home

Tags: Pure filthy smut, unhealthy/toxic relationship, obsession/possessiveness, a kinda bloodplay, breeding kink/fantasy, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), pussy slapping/spanking, marks and cuts (sexual), co-dependency, skincare (don’t ask)

Jacaerys

Any lady would wish to have a brother like yours. So sweet and gentle. A brother who listens to every word of his sister. Always dancing with her at feasts. Giving her flowers just to make her smile. They find his protectiveness over you to be adorable. Not knowing it’s from a fear of losing you to another man.

Naturally, like everyone else, you were an admirer of many handsome bachelors. Whether it was a lord, a knight, or some blacksmith. Yet each turned you down. They made sure to be careful with their words, as you were a princess. And each time you ran into your brother’s arms in tears. Utterly unaware, he whispered threats into their ears.

The two of you shared a bed. Something your mother disapproved of. But no matter her attempts, the servants report finding you wrapped in each other’s arms. There was a reassurance it was merely innocent and harmless. The act under the sheets begs to differ from the way your brother is humping you from behind.

There was a sense of shame in Jace’s actions. But who else deserves to take your maidenhood other than him. Though he waited and waited. Still, the two of you found a way. Light shared and moans shared between-his hardened cock covered by loose fabric as you grind your pussy against it.

There’s also you two tangled in the sheets, messaging your tongue with his own. You clench tightly around his fingers that’s buried deep inside your core, pumping you relentlessly. All while his hips thrust into the grip you have on his cock. Groaning louder each time you squeeze at the head.

When it finally happens. Jace has become addicted to the warmth of your pussy. He was already addicted to the feeling of his fingers playing with your dripping folds. Already addicted to his tongue lapping up your pussy, drinking in your juice. This was nothing like he ever experienced, and if Jace could, he’ll die with his cock buried deep inside of you.

Learning Valryian was necessary. It is your mother’s tongue. The lesson, however, becomes difficult when Jace presses the head of his length against your entrance, slowly filling you up as you sit down on him. You and Jace try to recite what you know. Resisting the urge to roll his hips and your squirming doesn’t help, either. It all ends the same each time with Jace having enough, gripping your waist and moving your hips.

Jace sometimes dreams of seeing your belly swollen with his child. He can't imagine being with anyone else but you. He wants the perfect life, to be an adoring husband to a devoted wife surrounded by children who resemble you more. It will all come due in time.

Maegor

To you and everyone else, your brother let it be known of his desire. It is within his right to want you, to have you. What man would have a better claim for his sweet sister than her own brother. Even more who dares to refuse him, to refuse the dragon.

Your brother wanted to be the first of your everything. Your first love. Your first kiss. Your first fuck. From your mind, to your body, to your heart, to your soul. They were all his. Every inch of you belongs to him. He will give a fate worse than death to a man who dared to steal his ‘right’.

Maegor breeds you at every chance he gets. Filling your little cunt with his massive cock. Tears coat your eyes at how he pounds into you so mercilessly. Broken moans slip from your bruised lips, feeling his hot cum flood your insides. Numbness taking over your senses.

There’s no rest even in your sleep. Waking up to Maegor buried deep inside you. It happens so often that you merely lay there and have him do all the work. His cock squelching into your heat, moaning his name as the two of you inch closer and closer to an orgasm. Maegor loves the sight of your pussy as cum oozes out of it, pushing the tip right in front of your entrance to keep it all in-not wanting to waste a drop of his seed.

As much as he hates wasting his seed, he also loves the view of you on his knees, eagerly taking him. A hand on your head guiding you up and down on his cock. His sheer size makes you choke and gag every time. When it’s done as a form of punishment, you’re pulled until your nose nudges against his balls.

Obedience is expected from you. Not only is he older than you, he’s your king. Disobeying him will result in your ass feeling sore, a burning sensation from his assault. You’re to count each one, otherwise, he’ll start all over again. Your pussy is also swollen and drenched from his hand, slapping it when you move too much.

After making such a mess of you, he has you join him in the bath. The water so warm, it almost stings your skin. Sitting in Maegor's lap, your head resting on his shoulder as his hand traces your back. It’s an intimate moment filled with silence. Peace.

His wives mean nothing compared to you, and they were reminded of this every day. Any night he spends with one of them would be returned tenfold. A whisper in his ear is all it takes to get rid of each of them. A sweet sister is all he needs to love him, to satisfy him, to bear him heirs.

Aemond

You and Aemond standing side to side may have looked nowhere alike, but the two of you were attached to the hip as though you were twins. Even when each had different duties. Your brother being taught to wield a sword while you were taught to courtesy and dance.

Your brother believed the two of you were meant to wed one day. It was tradition with Aegon wed to Helaena, so it’s only fair for him to wed you as well. The two of you shared a bond like no other and who else understands, loves, and cares for his sweet sister as he does.

Aemond wants the best for you. It’s his duty as your brother. Demanding that you read, that you study philosophy and history. That you learn the language of your ancestors. Though you’re not to blame when finding those lessons to be boring, your brother is furious when you refuse to pay attention. Your stomach on his lap, ass sore from the strikes of his hand. It’s for your own good, he tells you.

When it comes to reciting what you know, your brother makes you lay over his lap. His hand on your cunt. Fingers caressing your folds when you get the answers right. Halting his movements when you forget or get the answers wrong. But in the end, he’ll give in to your begging, helping you reach your release.

Aemond likes to believe he’s giving. Cheeks messy with slick as his tongue laps up against your sensitive pussy from the many times you reached your release. Reaching it once more when his fingers thrust in and out of you all while his mouth sucks on your clit. But it’s never enough for Aemond, continuing to sloppily feast on your cunt until you can no longer take it.

Your brother wasn’t only obsessed with the taste of your tongue, but the feeling of it wrapped around his cock. There should be shame; Taking your maidenhood, but it’ll be bound to happen so why not indulge himself now. Besides, you tempted him like a seductress, latching onto him, yearning for the heat of his cock, and who is he to deny you.

There’s no greater feeling than this. The feeling of his cock sinking into you, filling you up so well, and stretching you with every thrust. Pushing his hips as deep as he can, wanting to drown himself in your cunt. Groaning when the blunt head of his cock grazes your cervix. Your nails dig into his back, and Aemond hisses when feeling lines of blood-forming. It arouses him even further.

Aemond was a man whose actions were said better than his words. But there are times where confessions are made. Bodies drenched in sweat, calming itself from the violet highs. And in the dawn of night, you hear the whispers, so faint. And you realize just how deep the love Aemond has for you. The madness in his eye showing its blazing intensity.

Aegon I

Your brother Aegon, as he did with Visenya, married you out of duty. His true love was Rhaenys. A sad truth you must accept. As the youngest sister, you looked up to your big brother, always following him around, eager to please him, to make him happy.

Aegon finds himself indulging in your eagerness. Allowing you to scrub his body in the bath or undress him late at night. His most preferred is when you’re helping him shave his beard. Seated on his lap with his hands on your waist, and Aegon can’t help but watch you be so focused and take great care to be careful.

Unlike your sisters, Aegon didn’t want you to fight. Even preferred it if you didn’t claim a dragon. Insisting your purpose was to wait for him when it was time to visit your chambers. And when he did, Aegon smelled like dragon and his eyes widened in lust at the sheer nightgown wore. In mere seconds, it was ripped to shreds.

His reason for visiting you late at night is before you was Visenya, and before Visenya was Rhaenys. The night is spent with you bent over, his hips ramming into yours. Hands gripping the sheets as his cock pumped in and out of your tight hole. And when it was all set and done, the two of you reaching your high. He always left, and you knew deep inside, it was right back to Rhaenys.

But soon Visenya notices Aegon’s presence lessens and more shocking when Rhaenys does. The chambers of your room are filled with everything your heart desires, from the rarest of books to every instrument and painted color imagined. The dresses becoming more and more lavished, all in the house of colors. What catches most attention is the valyrian steel necklace placed around your neck.

His jealousy was one of fire. Easily ignited and hard to put out. Pushed to the wall with Aegon lifting your dress up. A dark look on his face as he lines his cock to your entrance. Making you adjust to his size and brutal pace. He demands to not hold in your moans, to let every single person in the castle know who you belong to. The poor bastard that caused it is currently residing in Balerion's stomach.

In the throne room, where the halls are empty. Safe for the King and his sister-wife who’s on top of him, bouncing on his cock. Your hips gripped by Aegon, moving you up and down as he drives himself deeper into your aching cunt. Moans, groans, and skin slapping echo through the great halls. Some cuts occur, a few stings, but the pleasure helps in numbing them.

A true testament to your brother’s love was when the two of you were standing in a mirror. Both bare as you gazed at your reflection. Stunned when Aegon places the crown, the king’s crown on your head. It’s all yours, the kingdom, the throne, him; they all belong to you. His hand reaches down to your belly. It also belongs to them. What if it’s a girl, you ask him. It’s still theirs, he claims.

Baelon

Such a sweet and kind princess you were. Loved by the court and the common people alike. Your parent’s pride and joy, a sentiment your brother shared. Baelon’s fondness for his sister was well-known around the realm. If one needs to find Baelon, they must first find you, as your brother rarely left your side.

It doesn’t arouse any suspicions when your brother shoos any of your suitors away. Nor when his hands are on your lower back as you dance. Not when he kisses your cheeks at your name day. Neither when he rubs his thumb on your lower lip to wipe the frosting or cream. They all believe it’s just Baelon looking after his innocent and sweet sister.

Then again, there are no eyes under the table where your brother’s hand is buried between your legs. Your thighs squeeze the hand to restrict its movements, but all it does is make him dig his fingers even deeper into your core. Baelon has the nerve to have those same fingers in his mouth afterward, tasting your release all while his eyes are on yours.

With Baelon, most of your mornings are awakened by a sensation between your legs and a knot in your stomach. Opening your eyes to see your brother sucking the clit into his mouth. Pulling away with your arousal coating his lips as he teasingly greets you with a ‘good morning’.

Any time you are soaking yourself in warm water. It’s almost as if your brother has a sixth sense. Coincidently being there, and he doesn’t even bother asking. Sinking in the warm water and immediately pulling you onto his lap. And somehow it always ends with most of the water spilling out on the floor. You eagerly moving up and down on your brother’s length.

The dragon’s blood courses through Baelon’s veins and you’re reminded by his fire when he’s green with envy. Making such a mess out of you as he slams his cock into your hole, hand making contact with your ass cheek. Overstimulating you as he pumps a load after another. In your broken moans and whines, your brother makes you repeat that you belong to him over and over.

Sometimes you wonder if Baelon wants others to find you in these compromising positions. With how often he drags you out of feasts and tourneys. When the two of you return, you’re forced to lean on him as your knees are wobbly and your whole body feels sore. Not to mention the mixture of our arousal sliding down your thighs.

Baelon worships the ground you walk on. He might even worship you. You certainly taste like nectar on his tongue, a nectar created by the gods. You’re a perfect creature in his eyes. If Baelon could, he’ll gift you the whole world in his hands. But if you were ever to leave, Baelon will want to burn it all down and himself so he can see a glimpse of your face again.

Daemon

Viserys and Daemon loved their little sister. They took you wherever they went, their protectiveness and love clearly seen. But Viserys knew the bond between you and Daemon was nowhere near the one he had with either of you. It was evident even to the court.

You were his. A constant reminder that loomed over you. Everything belonged to him, everything. Your eyes, only for him to gaze at. Your lips, only for him to kiss. Your body, only for him to touch. Your heart, only for him to keep. Your cunt, only for him to breed.

No other man deserves this. Deserves you. You were made for him. Carved and sculpted by the gods as a gift. Any man or woman who takes what is rightfully his. He’ll behead them and fuck you right next to their corpses, or better yet, he’ll make them watch. Letting it be the last thing they see before meeting their timely demise.

Daemon takes joy in bullying you. Railing you from behind as your hands grip the window rails. Taunting you on how much of a slut you’re, taking his cock like your pussy was made for it. When he notices you biting your lips to hold your moans as those under will hear, he will spank your pussy every time you do so. He wants them to hear, to watch his sister being so drunk on his cock.

At tourneys, you’re in the front, thighs clenched together at the sight of your brother’s prowess. It doesn’t matter whether he comes victorious. Daemon makes it a ritual to fuck you after each tourney. When victorious, every time he crowns you as the queen of love and beauty, later in his chambers, having you ride him to your liking. But when he loses, your ass is left sore and bruised as Daemon ruthlessly pounds into your dripping hole, fucking you full of his cum.

In front of others, it is almost as if your brother’s arousal heightens. Teasing you under the table, his eyes never leaving your face just to watch how it twitches and how your lips are pressed in a thin line, doing everything to not break, not to fall apart from his fingers playing with your cunt.

No matter how many tongues are silenced or people sent away, it doesn’t stop the rumors that circulate around the castle. The servants claim to catch the two of you in intimate positions. Found in some hall with you between your brother’s legs. A messenger once walked on him thrusting hard and deep into you, still counting his pace the rogue prince simply asks who sent for it.

You can never deny your brother. For his violence, ruthlessness, and arrogance. There was the intense love and loyalty he had for you. One you will never find in another man. Daemon didn’t need to utter the three words. When he claims that he’ll burn cities to the ground, it’s not an empty promise. It was also his gentleness that was granted only to you.

Viserys III

There were only three-you, Viserys, and Daenerys. They were all you had-your father, mother, and big brother all gone. Your memories were still there, the good and the bad. And most of all you remembered your brother before he became the man he was. The sweet and devoted Viserys, now cruel and mad.

To Viserys you are his greatest strength as much as you are his greatest weakness. You are his to have, his to claim, his to fuck, his to hurt, his to love. A wine for him to drink and drink until he’s drunk under your sweet words and touches. Away from him in a day is a day to you, but to Viserys, it’s as if months have passed without your presence.

Your body belonged solely to him. The mere idea of anyone touching or gazing at it will send him into a frenzy of rage. It wasn’t the servants dressing you instead; it was your brother Viserys, styling you in the way he sees fit. Even bathing you, scrubbing your body as he joins you, expecting you to return the favor.

You weren’t ignorant of your brother’s lust. Noticing where his hands trailed when he’d undress you. How he pulls you to sit on his lap. And your brother’s meanness was seen in how he shoves his fingers in your mouth, watching with great entertainment as you gag and drool all over his fingers. Scolding you for the noises you make and how you’re moving your hips against him.

Viserys will marry you against Illyrio's advice. It was his destiny and duty. There’s no better suitor than his own sister and no better suitor for you than your own brother. Almost every day Viserys breeded you. It’s up to you and him to continue your bloodline, to bear him heirs when he claims the iron throne.

Viserys’ jealousy was a dangerous one. Receiving his known saying, do not wake the dragon. Even your sister Daenerys wasn’t safe from his jealousy. Viserys already resented her for killing your mother. He tells her it’s only he who deserves to touch you, to hold you. It’s one of the reasons he was so eager to marry her off to Khal Drogo. As it means having you all to himself.

Viserys is hardly slow and gentle in his thrusts, and how can he when feeling your insides wrap around his cock, clenching him so tightly. Feeling as if he’s losing his sanity at how drunk he’s on your pussy. With any other, he’d be embarrassed at how loud he is. But with you, his dear sweet sister, Viserys isn’t ashamed to cry out your name. Moaning how good you feel around him, demanding you call him your king.

Tell me you love me. Was something you often heard from your brother. When he heard them call him ‘the beggar king’. After he caused a tantrum because you were too ‘nice’ to another person. When he lays his head on your chest every night. It almost is a recital, where you tell him you do love him, cradling his face and kissing him to ease any of his doubt.

Aegon II

As children, Aegon teased you as any brother would. But he was far more attached to you than Aemond, and certainly Helaena. Your mother thought the relationship was a harmless one. It’s until your brother became a man and you a lady, did your mother start to separate the both of you.

It never worked. Aegon made you come to him at any time of need. Your finger is cut, no worries, he'll help you. Placing the said finger in his mouth, sucking on the blood as you watch him. At the time of your month, he’ll press kisses on your tummy to make you feel better, only for his lips to go lower and lower.

Aegon’s intentions are never good. Such as when your brother sweetly offers you to taste your favorite pastry, only for him to dip his fingers in the said pastry. Having you lick and suck his fingers clean to which you start gagging when he shoves it further inside your mouth.

His greatest weakness was the sight of your breasts. No matter how big or small they were, it’s a sight to behold. Only for his eyes to see. Capturing your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly leaving you with the feeling of soreness afterward.

He’ll also fuck your tits. Fisting his cock as his tip nudges the stiff buds, smearing them with pre-cum. Or better yet rubbing them against the skin between your breasts. Spurting his release all over your chest and some splattering into your face, making him hard all over again as soon as your tongue makes contact with his cum.

With Aegon, there’s never a dull day. Always wanting to try something new. Forced to eat fruits such as strawberries and pineapples all day by your brother until your stomach aches. All because Aegon overheard they will make your pussy taste sweeter.

During tourneys, you and Aegon are nowhere to be found. Using this opportunity to fuck you in the chambers of those who angered him. Some lord judgmentally looked at him. He will have your back laid on their table with him pounding into you, having all their works scattered on the floor. His brother made a comment on his drinking. He’ll plunge his cock into your dripping pussy on his bed. Leaving behind such a mess for Aemond to find. He’ll even sneak you into some of the lord’s carriages, so when they are to leave, they’ll feel something sticky and wet on their seats.

When he became king, Aegon would have you ride him on the iron throne. Your stomach is still in knots and your legs are on fire when he and you reach your high. Your brother then makes you sit on the throne all while he’s on his knees, face surrounded by your thighs. Aegon may wear the crown of the conqueror, but it’s you who pulls the strings.

Rhaegar

In the stories where you hear of tall handsome princes, Rhaegar was one to come to mind. All ladies seem to think so. Eagerly surrounding and pursuing him. With the customs of your house, the ladies saw you as a competition for their prince. They were not far off, as the handsome Rhaegar’s heart was yours to have.

The gods have blessed your brother with such beauty. That is a work of art. Compared to his, yours seemed inadequate. A thought that you believed almost broke his heart. Morning to night, your brother’s delicate hands trailed your body, soft lips brushing against the skin. All done to prove you were worthy of such a title, a title of beauty, and one deserving of his affection.

Though the violet eyes that watched you always held a fondness. A fondness reserved only for you. Watching you do the most mundane things, even eating. Chuckling when the food’s remains would adhere to your lips or trail down, to which your brother wipes it for you. A certain gleam in his eye.

Every morning, it was your brother who took care of your hair. Whether it’s brushing, braiding, or dipping his fingers in the coconut oil to apply it to your hair. Rhaegar loved taking care of your skin as well. Having you completely bare while he spreads the lotion at every inch of the skin, trailing dangerously close to your lower region.

There was some resistance against his temptations. Rhaegar will be a patient man for a time, yet his father refused to announce the union. It was seen in how he’d check for you at night, tucking you in and giving you a gentle kiss on the head. Each time, it took all his strength to deny your request for him to join you. But when his patience ran thin and his strength weakened, he slipped behind the covers. A habit came to be with the prince leaving your chambers every early morning.

With the night sky being your only witness, Rhaegar lays between your legs. Drinking you in like a starved man. The chambers’ walls echo the sound of your moans, hand down pushing his face even further. Your brother groans when you gush against his tongue, arousal coating his cheek and chin.

Clutching him to your body, your eyes find his. Rhaegar presses his forehead to yours as his cock sank into your pussy. He could worship the sight of your face contorting to pleasure, worship the sounds of your moans in his ear. Your back arches and legs weakly wrap around his waist as he pounds your cunt. Your brother whispers nothing but sweet praises.

Outside the covers of your sheets, your brother also worshiped you. His heart was in your hands. You can break it over and over, and it still beats for you. You are his and he’s yours till the end of days, how he dreams of reciting your wedding vows to one another. How he dreams of you giving him a prince. The three-headed-dragon, words your brother muttered more than once.

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maidragoste · 1 year ago

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The Parent Trap: Chapter One

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.

Masterlist

Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. and this does not follow 100% the movie.

Daeron tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing sideways at his nephew. Since he started the trip, Baelon had not said a word, revealing his bad mood. Daeron knew he wasn't the reason for the boy's anger but he still couldn't help but feel bad for him. Aemond was supposed to be the one to take Baelon to summer camp but at the last moment a work meeting came up that he had to attend, although Daeron doubted it because it's not like it was a secret that Aemond is addicted to work, so now he is in charge of being his nephew's driver.

“I'm sure your father is as angry as you are that he can't come with you,” he said in an attempt to start a conversation. "He told me that he will do everything possible to come look for you when the camp is over," he added, hoping that would calm the boy's annoyance a bit.

“He is a liar. He won't do it ”said the boy without taking his eyes off the window” He had already promised to take me. ”

Baelon was upset. Just days before he was excited because his dad had said that they would have a road trip like in the movies and that he would take him to an amusement park where he was on the way to camp before dropping him off. It was supposed to be their last outing together because they wouldn't see each other for weeks. Sometimes Baelon couldn't help but think that his dad didn't really mind spending time with him, that he only did it because it was his obligation. Every time he thought that he ended up thinking about his mom. He knew she was alive—not because of his dad, he never talked about her—thanks to his uncle Aegon. It's a secret but when he came to visit for his birthday he always brought gifts from his mother. The first time his uncle cut him off from the rest of the party and gave him a gift from his mom was on his fifth birthday. He had been so excited that he wanted to run and tell everyone, but before he could, his uncle stopped him and told him that he couldn't tell anyone, not his friends, not his family, not even his dad. that it had to be a secret between them or her mom would never be able to send her a present again. Baelon had never seen his uncle so serious so he complied. He kept the secret and he looked forward to each new birthday waiting to see what his mom got him. Lately, he had been wondering what it would be like to live with her. Sometimes he dreamed that the next time his uncle came he would bring his mother with him. Other times he imagined that his uncle would show up as a surprise while his dad was away and tell him to pack everything for him to take with her. But deep down he knew it wouldn't happen. His uncle never told him what his mom's job was but Baelon supposed her job was busier than his dad's and that's why he stayed with him instead of her.

“It was a last-minute thing,” Daeron said.

"It's always something," Baelon grumbled, crossing his arms and this time Daeron couldn't come up with any excuse to defend his brother. In his opinion, Aemond wasn't the best father but he wasn't the worst either… At least he was better than his father. Viserys barely remembered the existence of him and his brothers. He was sure the man couldn't remember any of his birthdays or say anything he liked to his children. Aemond knew his son's hobbies and despite not spending much time at home whenever he was there he gave Baelon his full attention. But that wasn't enough to reward the canceled plans or his lack of presence at some school events.

"Open the glove box" he requested and Baelon glared at him before reluctantly opening it. Baelon's frown was left behind and a smile appeared in his place when he saw that his favorite snacks and sweets were there. “Your father couldn't take you but he had already bought things for the trip. He also gave me the address of the park where he wanted to take you so we can still go there ”Daeron took advantage of a red light to ruffle the boy's hair

"Your dad loves you, kid, don't forget that"

Normally you wouldn't let Aemon ride up front with you, in the passenger seat, but this was an exception because you wouldn't be seeing your baby for weeks so you wanted to get him as close as possible before you had to say goodbye. You'd think you'd be used to this after all this was Aemon's third year going to summer camp but even so, you always had a hard time saying goodbye. You would miss him immensely. But he liked to go and you were not going to deprive him of experiences just because it was difficult for you to have him away.

"Promise you won't continue reading Harry Potter without me," Aemon asked and you looked through the mirror to find that Aegon, who was sitting in the back next to Joffrey, just like you was smiling. You two were happy that your son was growing up and wanting to have his own things but it was sweet to the heart to know that he still wanted to spend time with the two of you and the three share moments like family readings every night.

"Don't worry, we won't read a single chapter without you," Aegon said as he picked up the stuffed dragon Joffrey dropped again. The baby seemed amused to see his dad bend down to retrieve his toy "But we'll probably watch the movies."

Aegon had never really been in the habit of reading. He hated every time at school they forced him to read a book. He preferred a thousand times to see a movie before reading the book. That took less time. But he became interested in reading after the first time Aemon asked him to join you in reading to him before going to sleep. Books were something his godson liked—which Aegon wasn't surprised knowing you and Aemond were total nerds—and he really wanted to bond with him so he started reading the books Aemon liked only to have more topics to talk about with him. Aemon's excitement when he understood what he was talking about made him more than satisfied. It didn't take long for him to stop seeing reading as homework and he began to really enjoy it thanks to Aemon and you.

"You can only see the first two" Aemon reminded him turning to face him seriously. The three have the tradition of first reading the book and once finished it would watching their movie. You hadn't finished reading The Prisoner of Azkaban yet so you were forbidden to watch the movies that follow Chamber of Secrets.

"Aemon, those movies have existed since before you were born and we saw them all when we were teenagers," Aegon said and he and baby Joffrey laughed at the boy's annoyed grimace.

"Don't worry, Aemon. I'm sure he doesn't remember anything. He barely paid attention when I made him watch the movies with me. He's just trying to annoy you" you said.

"In my defense, I was distracted by your beauty," Aegon said making you laugh.

Perhaps another child would be disgusted or uncomfortable that his parents were flirting in front of him but Aemon just looked at them curiously. He knew that they had known each other since they were very young, but he had no idea that Aegon seemed to have feelings for you since he was a teenager. He sometimes saw you and Aegon so in love and happy that he couldn't help but wonder how you ended up with his biological father before. It's not like you never talked about his father. He didn't know his name, you never called him by his name when you talked about him, but he knew some things like his father also liked to read a lot like him, that like him he practiced fencing when he was young, that he also had the light sleep. Baelon knew trivial things about his father but he didn't know anything about how your relationship with him was. Perhaps you had broken up with his father to be with his godfather? But that didn't make much sense to him because if it did he would have met Aegon sooner. He met his godfather when he was four years old, although he knew that Aegon had been a part of his life when he was a baby from the pictures in the family album that you showed him but something had happened in the middle so that you and Aegon stopped seeing each other.

"So what do you and Rickon plan to do this year?" you asked, snapping Aemon out of his thoughts. Wasting no time Aemon started talking excitedly about how this time he and his best friend would go hiking in the mountains.

Daeron parked in front of the camp cabins. There were already a lot of boys and girls. You could feel the excitement of everyone from the big smiles, the laughs, and the shouts. He hoped that Baelon's experience would be good and that he would be able to make friends. That something good would come of having him away from home. It would be weird these weeks without his nephew at home, surely it would be quieter. Vhagar would surely be depressed by Baelon's absence. He would miss it too. He had gotten into the habit of going to the park every afternoon to take the dogs out together and play ball—sometimes Adam and Nettes would come over too—then they would come home and watch silly reality shows while criticizing the contestants.

"Don't get in trouble, Baelon" he reminded his nephew and ruffled his hair again to the boy's annoyance "I love you"

"Dude, don't be weird. I had enough of grandma crying as if I were going to live on the other continent. I'll be fine” Baelon said before opening the door not wanting to see his uncle's face. He sighed and turned around again. "I love you too and I'm going to miss you," he said quickly before leaving to find his luggage. He barely got out of the car and grimaced when he began to hear the screams get louder.

Daeron hurried down to help him as he tried to ignore a boy's scream of “Aemon”. When he was removing the suitcase from the trunk of the car, a boy with dark hair and gray eyes appeared behind his nephew. He was tall though he didn't seem to be older than Baelon.

“Hey, Aemon, are you deaf? I was calling you” he said pouting. He didn't even give Baelon time to tell him that he was getting the wrong person when he took one of his platinum locks between his fingers. "Oh, you cut it off, I knew you were upset because Joffrey kept pulling your hair but I didn't think you'd do anything so drastic”

Baelon took the stranger's hand and pulled it away from his hair. He wasn't obsessed with taking care of his hair like his dad but it was rare for a stranger to feel free to touch him “I'm not Aemon. My name is Baelon"

"But you look just like Aemon" said the other boy with clear confusion "Why do you look just like Aemon?"

Baelon looked to his uncle for help, wanting Daeron to get him out of this situation, but Daeron seemed to be in a trance. For a moment he thought that his eyes were shiny but he dismissed it as a sun effect.

Daeron couldn't believe it. Aemon was going to be in the same camp as Baelon. At any moment he would arrive. He should be in a panic. He should be telling Baelon to get in the car to drive away because that's what Aemond would do. He should call his older brother. But he wouldn't do that. After years the twins had the opportunity to meet and he was not going to stop it. Baelon deserved to meet the rest of his family… But if he was there when you arrived with Aemon then you would be the one to leave. This couldn't happen. This was a unique opportunity. This one meeting could make life better for everyone.

“I have to go,” Daeron announced, slamming the trunk shut.

Baelon eyed daggers at him. He had just told him that he loved him and now he was leaving him with a complete freak, didn't he care about him? Definitely from now on Daeron was no longer his favorite uncle and when he returned home he would tell his grandma so that she would scold him.

"What's your name kid?" asked the adult looking at the boy with dark hair.

"Rickon" he replied, still without taking his eyes off Baelon. He wanted to touch his face to make sure it was real but he had a feeling that if he did then he would get hit.

"Baelon, you will stay with Rickon," Daeron ordered.

"What?!" Shouted his nephew with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

"Rickon, you will take Baelon to your cabin and wait until Aemon's mother leaves or whoever she brings him to introduce him to Baelon"

"Wait, do you know Aemon?" Baelon asked trying to understand what the hell was going on.

Daeron didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wanted to tell him that of course, he knew Aemon. He remembered how scared he was the first time he picked him up, he remembered how little Aemon used to fall asleep in his arms, how when he learned to walk he used to follow him everywhere, and how he loved to give Tessarion kisses. On his phone, he has a folder with all of Aemon's photos. Every time he saw them he felt like he finished seeing them so fast. He wished he had taken more photos… Maybe after this camp, he could get new photos.

"Rickon, don't let Aemon's family see Baelon" he asked ignoring his nephew's question "Enjoy the camp," he said and got into the car ignoring Baelon's protests.

Daeron felt bad when he started the car, if he had time he might have stayed to explain to Baelon or try to prepare him for this surprise but you could show up at any moment. He couldn't risk you seeing him and deciding to leave.

When he thought he was far enough from the camp, he waited for the next red light to take his phone and call Aegon. He had to ask his brother if he knew that Aemon was going to the camp and that was why he had told Aemond that he should take Baelon there or was it just a fluke.

Aegon never responded.

Taglist: @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @bugheadskid @partypoison00 @camy85 @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @savagemickey03 @nyenye @krokietino @natashaobo @lizlovecraft @aleemendoza2425-blog @snh96 @angeliod @thegirlnextdoorssister @targaryenmoony @queen190 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @fan-goddess @saltyllamakidwombat @love-romancebooks @ilovetaquitosmmmm @justsumtuffstuff @afro-hispwriter @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @marytargaryen

@namelesslosers @rosey1981 @joyouart @starkjedi @nockerin @snowprincesa1 @ichanelvxgue @watercolorskyy @delaneyquill @avitute @exoticcow @tita004 @cicaspair418 @crystal-faith @peakybutterfly @st4rhrts @Jojoesq @alisoncdariel @fudge13 @Sakuramochi1921

If you want to be part of my taglist

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floatyflowers · 2 years ago

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Dark! Father Aegon II x Mother! Reader x Son! Aegon III

Trigger Warning: Child being taken away from their mother.

Aegon III is yours and Aegon II's son.

Like imagine, that the night at Driftmark, feelings developed between you and Aegon, so you continued seeing each other even after he got married.

Fast forward, you get pregnant, and your mother, Rhaenyra, finds out about that in your third month of pregnancy.

And under hard pressure from Daemon, you confess everything.

To avoid scandal, Daemon suggests that your mother pretends that she is pregnant with his child, and when the time comes and you start your labors, Rhaenyra will act as if her labors started to block out your screams of pain.

Of course, Daemon threatens the midwives and servants to feed them to Caraxes if they let out a word of this.

When the child is born, you allow your mother to name him, and she named him 'Aegon' just to spite Alicent.

You would spend time with Aegon III, acting not as his mother but as his sister, just not to confuse the young boy.

Daemon, of course, forced you to cut off any connections you have with your lover the moment you confessed everything.

So, that means Aegon doesn't know anything about Aegon the younger being his son.

Not until the war broke out, and you getting captured along with Aegon III and your mother.

Watching your mother get eaten by Sunfyre made you feel frightful of your son meeting the same fate.

So, you confessed everything, from the start to the end with tears streaming down your face.

But your uncle would only smile at you, wiping away your tears, while Aegon the young grasps into your skirts, burying his teary face into them.

"I know everything, (Y/n), that's why I killed Rhaenyra, she was only blocking mine, your and Aegon's paths from being a one true happy family..."

With each word escaping his lips, you realise what he is implying.

"Now, that she is dead, we both could marry"

#tw: toxic relationships #yandere house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon iii targaryen #yandere aegon ii targaryen

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ileenahajax · 4 months ago

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Hello everyone! I am going to tell you that I am upset how my favourite fanfiction got deleted in Wattpad by their policy. It's about Daemon Targaryen fanfic pairing with his OC niece Daenaera Targaryen, twin sister of Daeron and daughter of Viserys and Alicent. All this about is revenge, lust, affair and manipulations. Also there is sequel of that story, follows Daemon's son, Aegon III being a king and fell in love with Daenerys Rivers (who is product of Daemon and Daenaera's affair). I fell in love with her stories and would read it everyday, until Wattpad decided to delete two stories for "Violation of guidelines". Worse, she took months working to the bone writing these stories. Now she has to rewrite on her AO3 account, unfortunately she hasn't saved up the story. It was so frustrating and mad that Wattpad delete stories for no reason and I'm feeling so down because of that.

If anyone had recognized and read these and if you can, help the author to rewrite these stories on AO3. That would be helpful and lift her spirits! 🙏❤❤❤🙏

#wattpad violations #Wattpad deletes stories #Wattpad can't be trusted #Daemon targaryen x reader #Aegon III x reader

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lumi077 · 5 months ago

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Imagine.

A/N: Two posts in a day? the boredom caught up to me, and the words spewed out. Some short and sweet angst to welcome season two

Warnings: Canon HOTD incest (though no mention of it really), angst, implied reader death, character death, mourning, animal cruelty (free the dragons yall), slight comfort in the beginning that just fucking disappears, no real romance in this one. brief eludes to NSFW but very brief, fem reader, reader had a baby (Visenya), spoilers

Imagine grieving with Rhaenyra. You’re both mothers, birthed your own children. The marks of the battle shone brightly upon your bodies, widened hips and marks of stretched flesh on your once flat stomachs. You found more children in each other’s wombs, giving each other and your other half a bigger family than just one could have produced.

But now, your family is lacking one child. A son, an adored little boy with brown hair and eyes, dimples, the cutest smile in all the seven kingdoms. He wasn’t just a second son in your found family, he was your little boy. You may have not birthed him, or been present in the act like you were with Aegon and Viserys’s creation. But he was just as much yours as he was Rhaenyra’s or Daemons.

Holding her in the nights she would come back unsuccessful, no closer to finding the mangled body of your baby or his small dragon. Your arms tight around her waist, letting her face reside against your neck where you felt every sob that wracked from her body and ricocheted onto yours. No sleep would find any of you that night.

Imagine grieving with Daemon. You could never let yourself cry with your wife, needing to be strong so the queen could be strong. But your husband, normally so gruff, wrapping his arms around you late at night. Rhaenyra was asleep, her breaths even and you wonder if she’s dreaming about Luke.

He whispers against your skin, letting your pieces break for the first time since the raven carried the news all the way to dragonstone. Your sobs break him more, taking pieces of his heart with every heart wrenching wail against his skin. But he takes it, knows you need this or you’ll go down a dark path. His need for vengeance and repayment quelled with the watery look of your eyes. Your watered pleas for him to stay when you feel his body tense against your own breaking his resolve as he whispers a soft “of course” against your hair.

Imagine grieving with Jace. Your eldest boy looks so much like his brother it’s both a pain and a comfort all wrapped in one. Seeing him as he returned from Winterfell, your arms aching to wrap around him. And they do. You coo to him, running your fingers through his hair like you wished to do with Luke. He cried into your shoulder, broken cries of promised revenge echoing against your misery-stained skin.

You didn’t cry then, letting your baby take off his misery and place it onto you. You had to be strong, uplift your family in the way only a mother could do. Your comforting hands brought the sweetest comfort with every touch, lulling Jace into a state that he could face his other mother.

You let them cry together, bonding more in their shared grief.

Imagine having to explain to your littlest ones that their big brother won’t be coming home. You were the only one who could sit down little Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya and try to explain the worst tragedy imaginable, a mothers worst nightmare come true. That they won’t see him for years and years, but that he’ll be there waiting for them. Comforting their saddened cries, and you felt like you were drowning in sorrow.

Imagine comforting Rhaena as the news that her betrothed was murdered by their uncle reached the keep. Her cries hurt the worst, leaving scars that would never fade. She wasn’t yours either, but in a sense she was. You felt like Laena would have wanted you to be the one to have her daughter sob on, white locs caressed by your gentle fingers until she had cried herself to sleep.

Imagine flying with Rhaenys, the cannibal under you and the red queen to the side as you fly to the battle of rook’s nest. Your heart hammering as the sight of Vhagar reached you, only strengthening the hatred filling your heart. She was the same dragon that ended your little boy, that casted misery upon your family.

And maybe it was selfish that you had flown out without permission, that you might be the next casualty in this dance of dragons and death. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to die before you achieved your mission, you had to kill Aemond first. Even if the kinslayer took you with him.

And imagine the brief euphoria you feel, dragons crashing to the ground too fast to stop. You see the usurper jump from his golden dragon, as do you. Only you land on Vhagar, dagger in Aemond’s throat. You make sure he sees you, the second mother of the nephew he killed as the last of his life leaves his body. And as the dragons crashed to the ground, making you and the now dead prince Aemond meet the ground hard enough to crack ribs, dragons screeching filling your ears, you couldn't find an any more perfect revenge.

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra x daemon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #team black #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #lumiwritings #hotd x you #aegon iii targaryen #viserys ii targaryen

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delusionalwritingsofagay · 4 months ago

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ACCEPTING HOUSE OF THE DRAGON AND GAME OF THRONES REQUESTS

Since House of the Dragon/GOT won the poll, I will be posting that first whilst I work on my requests from my hiatus, so I am accepting requests only for HOTD AND GOT at the moment.

Please remember to check my rules for what I do and don't accept.

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ricardian-werewolf · 3 months ago

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Take Me to War Master-list

Cover:

Crossposted TO: Ao3 Link - listed as I'll Break the Sky on Ao3 ||Fanfic Masterlist

UPDATES ONCE A WEEK: Being written alongside Nikolina Rewrite of The Grisha Trilogy.

Relationships: Gwyane Hightower X Original Female Character, Jacaerys Velaryon X Original Female Character, Perkin Warbeck X Catherine Gordon.

Characters: Cecily-Anne (OC), Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Gwayne Hightower, Richard III, Anne Neville, Henry Tudor, Richard of Shrewsbury.

Taglist: @lordbettany, @rmelster, @fauxraven, @dreadbirate @hysterionic

Summary:

Reeling from the battle of Redmore Plain (later known as Bosworth Field), fifteen year old Cecily-Anne is a princess without her throne, family, or hope. Forced to play her cards with both hands tied, a seemingly mystical intercession forces her into a world that is shockingly similar to the England she knows. Yet it is also drastically different. It is there as a mere lady in waiting, that she is forced to pick a side in a war that has been played over in her England for decades. It remains to see as to whom will come out from this “Dance of Dragons,” unscathed and whole.

Notes:

General Tws: Brutal violence, implied sexual violence, sexism of the medieval period, religious mention, brutality. This is the first time the author has written for Gwayne Hightower, so please be kind! The author also only has a surface level knowledge of House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones, so please be courteous when making comments or suggestions. The Author is a history student with a special interest in the Wars of the Roses and Ricardian sources, so knowledge of that period will be largely correct.

Specific tags on Ao3:

Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-it, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe -Historical.

Published Chapter List on Tumblr:

If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell

2. Humbly beg the death upon my knee

3. Strangeness and Charm

Wip chapters

4. The Lady of the North - 0k words.

#richard iii #wyn rambles #gwayne hightower #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen #hotd jacaerys #alicent hightower #helaena #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x helaena #team black #cregan stark #House of york #Cecily Neville

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xxnymeriatargaryenxx · 3 months ago

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being in a throuple with alys and aemond includes:

• intoxication kink 🍄‍🟫🍃🪷🌱🪴🌾🫖🍵 be ready to have the sexiest trip of your life and to constantly be asking yourself “is this real?”….

• orgasms at least twice a day💦💦

• love-bites on your entire body!! 🫦 neck, chest, shoulders, thighs, ass, etc! you don’t know how some of them happened, but the next morning they are there 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

• breeding kink 🤰🤰 teasing aemond with the idea of having 2 women pregnant with his child at the same time….

what else am i missing??? 🧐🧐

#alys rivers #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #asoiaf #aegon iii targaryen #george rr martin #house of the dragon #hotd s2 #hotd aemond #harrenhal #house strong #aemond x reader smut #aemond fanfiction #hotd #aemond smut

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the-djarin-clan · 7 months ago

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How can this man be SO HOT!

#aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #king aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #prince aegon targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #king aegon #prince aegon #king aegon targaryen #aegon the second #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut

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eurydycee · 4 months ago

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Winter’s Thorn: chapter III

⚘ cregan stark x tyrell!OC

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format: series (ongoing) word count: ~ 4k warnings: women in westeros :( , not reread a/n: hello! The Kings Landing arc has ended with this chapter. The next arc will be their journey to the north where they spend time as betrothed

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“There had been decided that you—” Crayn began his confession, holding her hand steadfastly.

Until a voice interrupted them, causing both to turn their heads toward the intruder. “Good morning, I see that you have awakened. You had us both worried, brother.”

“Aah, good to see you too, Adlyn,” the knight responded with a tight smile, silently thanking the gods that his brother came at the right moment.

Adlyn turned to Euphemia while simultaneously letting his hand stroke her coral weaves, a gentle motion that sharply contrasted his demanding words, “You need to quit coddling your brother and return to court and the celebrations immediately.”

“You made us look incompetent. Just so you know, people get wounded and killed—it's part of the game, a fact you should be well aware of. I will not have you pulling stunts like rejecting your title as Queen of Beauty and Love.”

“He was mocking us—”

“He is a friend.”

“Is that what you tell yourself as you act like his lapdog?”

That made him snap, grabbing a fistful of her hair before yelling, “It is not your place to talk back to me or any man in the Keep. If I were to tell you to go back to Cregan and beg his forgiveness like a true lapdog, you will do so. I am responsible for you, and thus you will comply with my commands.”

He then let go of her and went back to a calmer version of himself.

“I expect you tonight to attend the ball in honor of the tournament winners and their assigned ladies. This is my command, and you shall obey it. Understood?”

Euphemia wanted to yell at him, to insult him, but all she could feel was pity. The death of their parents, his cursed inheritance, the near attempt on his life, and Crayn’s injury had turned him into an ugly man with an even uglier temper. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to obey. When her words failed her, her actions became her pillar, so she nodded obediently.

——————————

Upon her walk back to her chamber, Euphemia couldn't help but notice the hushed whispers shared between courtiers, servants, and guards as she passed them. She had truly underestimated the impact of her absence. Though the walk to her chambers cost mere minutes, it felt like it took an eternity to escape the malicious gossip swirling around her. Even upon reaching her chamber, she was plagued by the overwhelming number of tasks that still awaited her: promenading with her dear friend Cerelle of House Lannister, joining the court ladies for lunch, visiting the sept, getting her dress fitted for the ball, and engaging in endless talking and gossiping.

Just when she felt like losing her sanity, Cerelle entered her chambers to fetch her, like the heroine she is, for their promised time together. The golden-haired Lannister moved with the grace of a lioness, her presence commanding attention.

“There you are, Phia. How I have missed you,” Cerelle exclaimed, stretching her hands out for Euphemia to grasp.

“How have you been after… well, everything? Once our time here is over, you must return with me to Casterly Rock, like when we were children. I long to relive our days there as young maidens, even for one more day.”

“Sister,” Euphemia gazed at her friend with genuine affection. Cerelle had always been the older sister she had wished for, possessing great beauty, sharp intellect, and an uplifting nature. She grasped her hand firmly, thinking how fortunate she was not to face the cunning people of court alone.

“Oh, I am even more thrilled to see you. It has been far too long,” she replied, her smile warm and sincere.

“Court has been both boring and heated lately. With your return, I hope to find some company and to bring some peace to this place.” The two girls stood up, leaving the chamber and allowing their feet to decide their destination.

“Tell me,” said Cerelle, turning to look at her friend. “Have you truly insulted Lord Stark, The Hand, the man who essentially holds the Seven Kingdoms in his hand?” Cerelle had heard many rumors about what had transpired but preferred to hear it directly from her friend.

“If you put it that way, then I suppose I did,” Euphemia scoffed, feeling her anger rise once again. “But I felt wronged, being crowned with such a loving title after what happened to my brother .”

“Whatever happened is in the past, you mustn’t let the blame fall on him. Show yourself as a devoted sister, the ever-dutiful nurse,” Cerelle warned sternly.

Euphemia considered her words. It was indeed wiser not to speak ill of others, especially when she was still uncertain of her place in the court. She needed to present herself as a rose—opening her arms like petals and hiding her thorns beneath them.

The two friends walked through the castle's winding corridors, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. The scent of fresh flowers from the castle gardens wafted through the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread from the kitchens. Servants bowed as they passed, their eyes filled with curiosity and respect.

As they strolled, Cerelle shared stories of her time at Casterly Rock, her laughter like music to Euphemia’s ears. The memories of their carefree days as young maidens brought a sense of nostalgia, a brief respite from the burdens of court life.

—--------------------------------------------

As the evening approached, Euphemia stood in her chamber, surrounded by maids bustling about, preparing her for the ball. The scent of lavender and rose water filled the air as they brushed out her long, ginger-pink hair, pinning it up into an elaborate coiffure adorned with delicate pearls and golden filigree. A stunning gown of sage green silk, embroidered with golden thread, lay draped across a nearby chair, shimmering in the light of the setting sun.

Euphemia took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The whispers and stares she had endured throughout the day still lingered in her mind, casting a shadow over her thoughts.

“My lady, you look absolutely radiant,” her lady-in-waiting said, fixing the final pin in her hair.

“Thank you, Liora,” Euphemia replied with a soft smile. “It is beautiful work.”

Just as she began to relax, the door to her chamber opened, and Adlyn, strode in. He glanced around the room, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the scene, but there was a warmth in his gaze that belied his serious demeanor.

“Leave us,” he commanded the maids, who quickly curtsied and exited the room, leaving the siblings alone.

“Adlyn,” Euphemia began, but he cut her off with a firm raised hand.

“Euphemia, you must understand the importance of this night,” he said, his voice resolute. “Your return to court is not merely a personal matter. It is a matter of our family’s honor and standing. You must shut down these rumors and reassert your place in court.”

She sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “I know, Adlyn. But it’s not easy. The things they say…”

He stepped closer, his expression softening as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You are stronger than you realize, sister. You have always been a beacon of grace and dignity. And there is another matter. Your relationship with Cregan must be mended. The hand´s support is crucial.”

Euphemia’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Lord Stark is attending? I haven’t seen him all day. Where is he?”

“He has been working in his office, dealing with important matters of the realm.” he answered

Euphemia nodded slowly in agreement. “I will do what I must. But, Adlyn, you must promise me something.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”

“Promise me that we will find a way to honor our family without sacrificing your own or anyone else's happiness,” she said, her voice steady but pleading.

Adlyn’s stern demeanor softened further, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “I promise, Euphemia. But first, you must attend the ball and show them all the strength and grace of our house.”

She nodded, her resolve strengthening. “I will, Adlyn.”

Adlyn's gaze softened even more as he looked at his sister, adorned in her splendid gown. “You look absolutely stunning, Euphemia. Your presence alone will silence many of those whispers. They cannot help but be captivated by your grace and beauty.”

Euphemia blushed slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thank you, Adlyn. Your words mean a great deal to me.”

With a final glance in the mirror, she left her chamber, ready to step into the ballroom and reclaim her place in the world she had once known so well.

—----------------------

The ballroom was a dazzling display of opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the assembly of nobles, their rich attire creating a sea of vibrant colors and shimmering fabrics. Music filled the air, and the scent of roses and fine food wafted through the room. Lords and Ladies of many houses could be spotted introducing themselves and greeting the royal couple.

Euphemia descended the grand staircase holding her brother's arm, feeling eyes turn toward her. Whispers and murmurs rose as she made her entrance, but she held her head high, her expression serene.

They moved gracefully through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and smiles, determined to show no sign of the turmoil within. As they approached the throne where the king and queen were seated, they both did a deep bow to the couple. The young children of the royal couple returned a courtly nod, still visibly affected by the Dance that had impacted House Targaryen.

The winners of the tourneys were soon summoned, and they stepped forward to claim their appointed Queens of Love and Beauty. Each champion approached their chosen lady with a graceful bow, extending their hands to invite them for a dance. The room watched with bated breath as the tradition unfolded, the air thick with anticipation and admiration.

Euphemia stood at the edge of the gathering, observing the pageantry with a mixture of admiration and longing. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Cregan standing before her, his expression softened by a warm, earnest smile.

“Lady Tyrell,” he began, his voice steady and kind. “May I have this dance?”

She hesitated for a moment, memories of their previous discord lingering in her mind. But the sincerity in his eyes and the gentle strength of his presence reassured her. She placed her hand in his, and he led her to the center of the ballroom.

As they took their places, the musicians struck up a harmonious tune, and the dance began. Cregan guided her gracefully across the floor, their movements synchronized and fluid. The murmurs and whispers in her head faded into the background, leaving only the music and the rhythm of their steps.

“I owe you an apology,” Euphemia said softly as they danced. “I acted out of anger and grief, and I regret the rift it has caused between us.”

Cregan’s gaze softened, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I understand. These are difficult times for all of us. But we are stronger together, and I want to put this behind us.”

She nodded, a sense of relief washing over her. “Thank you, my Lord. Your support means more to me than you know.”

As they continued to dance, the court watched in awe. The once turbulent rumors seemed to dissipate, replaced by admiration for Euphemia’s grace and poise.

The dance ended, and Cregan bowed deeply to her. Euphemia returned the gesture with a graceful curtsy, her heart lightened by the reconciliation. And as they parted, Cregan noticed the smirks and snickers of his friends.

“Your time here has turned you into a true southerner, my lord,” one of them commented, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Good thing we’re returning home on the morrow,” Cregan replied, trying to maintain his composure as he chugged his wine, hoping to calm his nerves.

“She really has you in her grasp, doesn’t she, son? I’ve never seen you visibly shiver like that,” Lord Mormont added, his voice low and mocking.

“Can’t blame the lad. Have you seen her? In that piece of silk she calls a dress, she’s a living torment. I saw her today at the sept, praying like a good, devoted follower, while she carries herself as the embodiment of a siren at night.”

“Why are you lusting after her like a starved dog? She already has a thing with the Lannister,” a third friend chimed in, giving his friend a harsh push.

“What?” Cregan’s voice was sharp, his eyes narrowing .

“She apparently lived her childhood there as a ward. While there was never a confirmed betrothal to Leonore, everyone knows he’ll be the one to take her as bride.”

Cregan’s blood began to boil. Losing her meant losing the treaty for the North. That sly fox of Highgarden had misled him. Cregan could not hope for any aid if the marriage pact was not honored, and he couldn't take revenge anymore by marching his army across Westeros and the Reach to cleanse the lands of remaining supporters of the usurper. Blinded by rage, Cregan marched to Adlyn, his steps heavy with purpose, requesting a private word. Adlyn followed, his face a mask of concern, praying it had nothing to do with whatever his sister might have said.

“You liar,” Cregan hissed, his voice low but venomous.

“My lord?” Adlyn replied, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“The betrothal. With the Lannister,”

“What? No, you misunderstand—” Adlyn began, but Cregan cut him off.

“You take me for a fool? You think you can just break your word to me and get away with it? I let you off the hook the first time, but now it is war.”

“What do you mean by bethroting the Lannister? If that is what you want with yourself, you can just go and ask Tyland and leave me be. I have little influence there, friend,” Adlyn said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his unease.

Cregan’s hands itched to lash out at Adlyn´s fake innocence, to punch that pretty face, to burn his lands, to take his sister as a war prize, but he restrained himself, opting to finish this fight with the same fire the southerners played with.

“You lied to me about your sister’s hand. She is already set to marry the heir of Casterly Rock.”

“Leonore? No, no. I mean, Father intended for it, and I suppose if I hadn’t promised her to you, I would have given her to him, but there was no actual promise made to them. Cregan, she is yours, just as we discussed,” Adlyn said, his voice earnest, his eyes wide with sincerity.

“Then why do people still spread rumors of them?” Cregan demanded, his voice rising.

“This is court. People love to spark fights they can’t extinguish. Besides except for us and Crayn, there really isn’t anyone I have told,” Adlyn replied, his voice calming, hoping to soothe Cregan’s anger.

“She doesn’t know?” Cregan asked, his voice now quieter, but still tinged with anger.

“I wanted to tell her, believe me, but I feared making her upset. While a marriage with the house Stark is an honor, I suppose she preferred a marriage that wouldn’t drift her far from home. That’s why Father was keen on marrying her to the Lannister. She was a ward there, her dearest companion is his sister, and she and Leonore get along. It might have been a marriage filled with love.” he explained

“Are you implying that I am responsible for an upcoming ruin in her life?” Cregan’s voice was low, dangerous.

“Possibly. But a marriage with Leonore would only serve her. I might have allowed that if I had many others in my house to make use of, but I don’t. My child is unborn, my brother is already married to the Hightower to keep Old Town under supervision. So, it is on her to do her part in serving our house and the realm,” Adlyn said, his voice firm but not unkind.

“What of the Lannisters?” Cregan asked, his voice softer now.

“They love her whether she is married to them or not, and therefore they love us. Furthermore, she’ll prevent bloodshed in their lands, so I think they owe her gratitude,” Adlyn explained, his voice calming, trying to diffuse the tension.

“So, when will you announce it? Our betrothal?” Cregan asked, his voice steady but demanding.

“I was hoping to depart with you to the North for the Great Harvest festival before the winter and announce it there. The later she knows, the easier she’ll accept it,” Adlyn replied, his voice steady but his eyes once again betraying his concern.

“I don’t care about you protecting your relationship with her. I want it announced tonight in front of everyone, or I’ll have His Grace announce it in your stead,” Cregan smirked, turning on his heel and leaving Adlyn with no chance to protest.

—----------------------------------------------------

The grand hall was filled with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses as the nobility of the kingdom gathered for the annual midsummer feast. Tapestries adorned the walls, and chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the assembled guests. Adlyn, standing at the head of the room, tapped his glass with a silver spoon, the chime drawing the room to a hushed silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Adlyn began, his voice carrying with the authority and ease of one accustomed to command. "I have an announcement of great importance to make this evening."

Euphemia, standing beside him, smiled politely, unaware of the storm about to break over her head. Her delicate fingers played with the edge of her gown, her mind wandering to the music and laughter echoing through the hall.

"Tonight," Adlyn continued, his eyes scanning the crowd before resting on Euphemia, "I am pleased to announce the betrothal of the Lord Hand Cregan Stark and the Lady Euphemia Tyrell."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. The hall erupted into applause and cheers, but Euphemia stood frozen, her smile faltering only for a moment. Inside, her heart raced and her mind struggled to process the shock, but she quickly composed herself, maintaining a calm and graceful facade.

Adlyn leaned in, whispering, "It is for the best, Euphemia. Please, trust me."

Euphemia's lips curved into a faint, practiced smile. She nodded subtly, acknowledging the congratulations of those around her, while a tempest of emotions churned within. Hurt, betrayal, and confusion welled up, but she swallowed it all, determined to uphold the decorum expected of her.

Cregan, who had been standing quietly by, looked at her with a mixture of triumph and concern. He reached for her hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Euphemia," he said softly, "this union will strengthen our families and our kingdom. It is an honor."

Euphemia's eyes met his, her smile never wavering. "Of course, my Lord. I am... honored." Her voice was steady, though her heart was not.

The room's atmosphere remained jubilant, the guests blissfully unaware of the turmoil beneath Euphemia's composed exterior. She moved through the throng of well-wishers, accepting their congratulations with grace, while her thoughts spiraled inward.

"How could they decide this without me?" she pondered silently, her heart aching. "How could they assume I would agree without even asking?"

Her inner turmoil was a stark contrast to the celebratory air of the evening. The weight of the decision made on her behalf pressed heavily on her, but she knew better than to show discontent.

As the feast continued, Euphemia found a quiet moment to herself, stepping out onto a balcony overlooking the moonlit gardens. The cool night air was a balm to her heated thoughts.

Adlyn approached her, his expression softening. "Euphemia," he said gently, "I know this is sudden, but it is for the greater good."

Euphemia turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You could have asked me, Adlyn. You could have considered my feelings."

"I thought you would understand," Adlyn replied, his voice tinged with regret.

"I understand duty," Euphemia said quietly, "but I also understand respect. I wish you had shown me that."

With that, she turned back to the gardens, her calm exterior belying the storm within. She knew she would face the future and move on , but the wound of this night would not soon heal.

For the rest of the night, Euphemia played her part perfectly, expressing her contentment with the marriage and sharing dances with Cregan that were all but stiff and cold. Each step was measured, each smile a mask. She even found a moment to approach the Lannisters, offering her apologies for any perceived slights and successfully earning their forgiveness.

When the ball finally drew to a close, Euphemia excused herself, her facade cracking as soon as she was out of sight. She fled back to her chambers, the tears she had held back all evening finally spilling over. She collapsed onto the floor, weeping into the plush carpet, the weight of the night's betrayal too much to bear.

It wasn't until her lady-in-waiting, Liora, found her that she stirred. Liora gently helped her out of her uncomfortable gown and into bed. "My lady," Liora whispered, her voice full of concern, "you must rest."

Euphemia nodded weakly, her tears subsiding as exhaustion took over. "Thank you, Liora," she murmured, her voice hoarse.

As she finally drifted off to sleep, Euphemia clung to the hope that tomorrow would bring clarity, even as the pain of betrayal lingered in her heart.

Euphemia's sleep was sadly cut short by a harsh knock at her chamber door. Groggy and disoriented, she whispered for her guard, Ser Wayne, but received no answer. With trepidation, she stood and opened the door, only to find Cregan standing before her.

Cregan's gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in her swollen eyes, a clear indication of her grief, and her nightgown, which left her in a somewhat indecent state. He quickly turned his back to her before speaking.

"The king wishes to see you," he said curtly. "The young man cannot seem to fall asleep. He has been plagued by nightmares," I assume.

"And what can I offer my lord?" she asked curiously, fearing that the king wished for her to warm his bed

"Your singing," he replied, "I thought that might sedate him."

"Of course," she continued, relieved, "please allow me to fetch a proper gown and a chaperone."

"You think I will allow anyone else to witness the king in this state?" Cregan yelled quietly, turning back to her, taking off his coat and handing it to her. "You must come alone and now."

Euphemia hesitated but knew better than to argue. She took the coat and draped it over herself, its warmth providing little comfort but enough decency. As soon as she was covered, Cregan grabbed her wrist and led her through the dimly lit halls.

The journey felt interminable, each echoing step amplifying her anxiety. She struggled to keep pace with Cregan's brisk stride, her mind racing with worry of being caught and having her virtue but to question

Finally, they reached the king's chambers. Cregan paused outside the door, his grip on her wrist loosening slightly. "Do your best to calm him," he instructed, his tone softer now. "The king needs his rest,"

Euphemia nodded, her heart aching with the sight of the troubled child. She gently stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls. The young king was huddled alone on the large bed, eyes wide with fear.

"Mother," the king's weary voice called from a nearby chair, his face etched with concern, mistaking her for his dead mother. "I miss you mommy."

Euphemia gave a small, respectful bow before approaching the bed. She sat down on the edge, cradling the boy and began to hum a soothing lullaby, her voice soft and melodic. The child's tense body began to relax, his eyes growing heavy as her song filled the room.

As she sang, Cregan felt a surge of tenderness. Despite having outgrown his childhood, Cregan felt yearning for joining them and laying his head on her tender breasts.

When the song ended, the king was sound asleep, their nightmares banished for the night. Euphemia stood and turned to the Cregan, who snapped from his absurd thoughts and gave her a grateful nod.

"Thank you, Lady Euphemia," he whispered. "You have done us all a great service."

With a final nod, Euphemia quietly left the room, Cregan followed her just outside, grabbed her wrist once again and escorted her back to her chambers, neither of them speaking a word. As they reached her door, he finally broke the silence.

"You did well tonight," he said, his voice devoid of its usual sternness.

Euphemia merely nodded, too exhausted to respond. She slipped back into her room, closing the door softly behind her. Alone once more, she allowed herself a quiet reflection before finally succumbing to sleep, hoping for a respite from the day's emotional upheaval.

#cregan fanfiction #cregan stark #cregan x euphemia #cregan x oc #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #oc!tyrell #house tyrell #house strak #house lannister #aegon iii targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #cregan stark fanfic #cregan x reader

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missglaskin · 2 years ago

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Yan!Targaryen Men (Jacaerys, Daemon Blackfyre, Maegor, Aegon II, Viserys III) with servant!Darling

Note- Originally there were meant to be more characters, but I couldn’t think of any other ideas for them and I didn’t want to risk being repetitive. Also I really hope this doesn’t get reported either

Tags: EXPLICIT/SMUT, Coercion, Power dynamics, Implied noncon, abuse of power, forced marriage/relationship, semi-delusions, forced feeding, mentions of vomiting

Jacaerys

At the table where you are pouring wine for one of the lords. You felt a pair of eyes watching. Looking to see it’s the prince. Almost in awe, you see his brows rise and eyes widen. But it’s cut short when the lord shouts at you for overspilling the wine. You mutter your apologies all the while scrubbing the mess you caused. Feeling further flustered when the prince comes to your defense.

He yearned for you. It was wrong, even dangerous and scandalous for the two of you. Still, you see him making his way through the crowd, through the halls searching for you. And when he’s finally face to face with you, there’s the awkwardness in not knowing what to say. It was almost endearing, in a way.

Still, no matter how many times you try to push him away, Jace persisted. And not being able to truly deny him, you found yourself indulging in some of his desires. Keeping him in your company in which you hoped remained nothing more than a friendship. But it grew ever more difficult in seeing how he gazes upon you and the glares those close to you receive.

Though there came a night right before the sunset where Jace brought you to the dragon pit. In what you assumed was to be an introduction to the dragon is followed by a hand guiding you on top of the said dragon. With the wind blowing in your face and the sunset view ahead, your nerves fade. Looking back, you see Jace's face inches from yours. He closes the distance, and you find yourself melting under his touch.

Subtlety was not one of Jace's strongest traits. At feasts, dinners, meetings, his eyes hardly left yours. He left lingering touches such as when you come to pour his wine or when you pass him by the halls. Times, there are kisses exchanged in dark corners, one where you must pull away before praying eyes find you both.

At his chambers, where only the night sky is your witness. Your bodies are tangled underneath the sheets. You whimper as his cock slowly fills you up. It being your first time made you feel as if he was splitting you open. Clutching him close and tight, as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. With every slow thrust, you adjust to his size. Moans slipping from your lips as the pleasure begins to numb your senses.

In one of those nights. Marry me. Was uttered to your lips. There was a glimpse of confusion, but it was quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming pleasure. With his cock disappearing into your cunt. The sounds of skin slapping echoing as you bounce on him. Jace’s mouth moves to your chest, tongue making contact with the hard nubs. And then you hear the same words uttered once more.

But as you stand in front of the septon. Your mind starts to race. There’s a look of panic in your eyes. Still, Jace ever so gently cups your cheek, saying his vows, even yours when the words cannot escape you. Holding hands with you, he walks you to his chambers or what he considers ‘ours’. And as the two of you consummate your wedding night, you only fear what his family would think.

Daemon Blackfyre

The first time he caught sight of you was when he was twelve. Participating in a squire’s tourney to which he won. Watching as the king bestows the steel sword on him. Only to have the crowd watch you as the just knighted Daemon places the crown of roses in your lap. In spite of being a bastard, Daemon's blood is still one of royalty. So imagine the shock when some commoner is crowned as the queen of love and beauty.

To make matters worse, you were a servant. Throughout your wanderings and tasks at the red keep, you rarely passed Daemon. But ever since the tourney, you try to conceal your surprise when seeing him stand in front of you. Simply nodding in greeting before rushing to leave his sight. Though over the years, you have grown accustomed to his presence.

It was known that he was possessive of you. His mother and him were the only ones you served under. You were safe and well-protected. It didn’t matter to Daemon if it was a commoner, a knight or even a lord that tried to harm or seduce you. You were his. In Daemon’s eyes, you have already been claimed. Even when his gestures seemed helpful and sincere, you knew there will come a day where he’ll expect a favor in return. One quite so intimate.

Daemon’s violet eyes often stare into yours. His gaze alone tells you of his interest, so piercing, as if he can see into your soul. It leaves you feeling so vulnerable. Still, you found yourself returning his gaze. His face etched with an amused smile in response. Struggling to keep your heart at bay as it pounds so mercilessly.

What starts as a hint of your intentions to one another becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Flusteredness is felt, but not so much of shock. Back pressed to the wall. At times, you envied his charmness, his way of luring you into his arms, into having your lips meet. And most of all, into luring you into his chambers. Like a sailor following the sirens into the deep sea, only to drown and never be seen again.

He saw it within his right to take your maidenhood. In claiming you that day, he came to claim your body and soul as well. In his chambers, the charmingness never left him. Those lips to which you feel trailing your skin. Whisper all sorts of confessions and praises. Further sinking you in his grasp.

Seeing you in the halls, a smirk curls on his face, his hand briefly roaming your body as he did, all to remind you of the nights you spent together. Daemon proves that the blood of the dragon courses through him in his passion and aggression. With his desire to have you anywhere he can. Grown addicted to the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way you clench around him, the taste of you on his tongue.

Daemon wanted to refuse his father’s arrangement to the Tyrosh. He desired you. Your place was on his side, as his wife. Daemon didn’t need the king’s promise for him to have a second wife. And when he was legitimized, fighting for his claim to the throne. Daemon declares that any man who speaks against you, makes a mention of your status and the children he hopes to share with you. They will face far worse than a tongue cut out.

Maegor

Keep your head down and do your duty. Was all you’re told when arriving at the castle and you did just that. The man you’re serving truly lived up to his reputation. Unleashing such a wave of violence rarely ever seen. As a matter of fact, the building you stand in saw no builders considering he killed every one of them. You were right to fear him, right to avoid him at all costs. But fate seemed to have other plans.

You hated the feeling of being watched. But it wasn’t as if you could do anything about it. You felt it when you would remove the sheets from the bed, when you’d start his bath, when you would pour him his wine. There was a time where you dared to look, met with a pair of violet eyes.

At first, you also served his wives. They paid no mind to your presence, as expected. But soon enough, you could feel their eyes watch your every move. There were all sorts of expressions on each of their faces. But it was Tyanna’s that filled you with fear. You didn’t know whether to feel relief when informed you are only to serve the king from now on.

Deep down, you knew that the king, Maegor, had anything but good intentions for you. That not only he formed an interest in you, but in that he desired you. And when Maegor is driven by his desires, it wasn’t good for anyone involved. What you wanted to know is when he will fulfill these said desires.

Day by day, your duties dwindled to the point where you had nothing to do. Only when you are given your own chambers, do you realize what is truly happening. Wide eyes staring at the man that invites himself in-Maegor. Your hair stood on end as he towers over you—not in just height, but in his intimidating presence. Taken aback when his hands carefully undo your dress, allowing it to drop and gather around your legs.

There was hardly any prepping. But even if it was given, there's no way you can fully adjust to the sheer size of him. His fat cock stretching your hole with each thrust. His thrusts are hard and deep.It renders your mind to go fully numb and vision hazy as you cry out. The blunt head of his cock bruises your cervix, and you can feel the pressure of his broad hand on your tummy bulge.

He never wastes his seed. Squeezing your legs around his waist so his cock can fill you to the brim. The angle allows him to pound your sweet spot with ease. The sound of his hips snapping against your skin echoes throughout the dimly lit chambers. And when he reaches his high, dumping his hot load against your cervix.

Maegor has shown again and again he has no care for what others think of him. He’s the dragon. His word is the law. The faith, the court, they can try but none will stop him from taking you as his wife. And when he finally presents an heir, there’s no care if his mother was a commoner. They had the blood of the dragon coursing through their veins. That’s all that matters.

Aegon II

Your first day already filled you with fear. As the rumors didn’t only reach your ears, but they were told to you. The prince being known to pinch or fondle any serving who strays within his reach. Already you felt his eyes on you, but dared to never look at him. Fearing that even a glance will spur him on. There was a relief in only seeing him during dinners and feasts. Until Dyana had to leave.

No other servant wanted the task of cleaning his chambers. It was only morning you had to see him. The rest of your duties were done in his absence. They assured you. Still, nothing eased your nerves. All it took was one moment alone with the prince. It wasn’t necessarily what he would do to you that scared you. It was the aftermath. There was nowhere else for you to go, no other place to call home.

True to their word, you only saw him in the mornings. Being as sneaky as possible and leaving safely every time. But in the end, you caught his attention. Normally, you would always clean the bath and leave just before his arrival, but on that particular day, the prince shows up a little early. The worst part of it all was your dress being tucked up to your knees to prevent getting wet. Heart hammering as soon as you saw his gaze on your bare legs. Your saving grace was the knight that entered his chambers and informed the prince he was needed.

For most of his life, Aegon has always gotten what he wanted, and he wanted you. And who could stop him? The knights who are meant to protect the innocent. The queen who was meant to care for the common alike. You had no titles, no lands, no castle. Your name had no value-you were of no value. So you didn’t fight the lips pressed roughly against yours. Didn’t resist when feeling the hands roam your body.

This was a means of survival. They are to send you away the next morning, and what will be of you? So you allowed yourself to give into the pleasure. To forget the shame of it all. Aegon went still in your arms when you pulled him close to you, almost wrapping him in an intimate hug. Your fingers caressing his cheeks or stroking his silver hair. Even daring to smile at him, all while letting a tear slip down your cheek.

To your relief, you weren’t sent away. But instead, your place was on his side. You did everything Aegon wanted. You kissed him where he wanted. You fucked him where he wanted. What once was your days spent running errands, is now waiting in his chambers for hours. Ending the night with your legs shaking, whines and moans shared between the two of you-having you spasming around his cock.

Rarely did you leave his chambers, but if you would. The jewelry that shined under the moonlight will catch the eyes of many. The dresses you adorned resembled the ones his sister wore, to replace the ‘filth’ -as according to him. But hardly did you wear them, the golden fabric on the floor as you lay bare in his bed.

One day, Aegon asked if you loved him. A simple question, yet one that causes so much hesitancy and fear. You told him you did. And when the day came where you dressed him in his ‘king’s attire’ right before his coronation. To ease his nerves, he had you caged against the wall, pressing your slit with the tip of his cock, before pushing past your folds. Swallowing his ‘fantasy’ as he spoke on how he would take you as his wife-make you his queen.

Viserys III

The second you stepped into your position, you were warned by the other servants of the man you will serve. To address him as you would do to a king. To treat him with the utmost respect and admiration. Anything less is an insult. Every word, every step, every task was done ever so carefully to avoid his wrath.

Unfortunately, you are not free from his acts of cruelty. As your behavior was believed to be deserving of such treatment. And what was your act of crime? Plopping a fruit in your mouth. You were unaware of his presence, and he was already done with the food, meant to be taken to the kitchen. Still, it did nothing to subdue his rage, to punish you for ‘stealing’ from him.

What you thought would leave you being scarred or worse sent to your death. Is instead experiencing something far more humiliating. Forced to eat every single thing on the table, tears streaming down your face as your stomach aches. Your pleadings fell to deaf ears and when you could no longer eat, the food was forced down your throat. Only for you to puke it all out. The voice of Viserys is heard as he demands you to clean up your mess.

The incident has been held over your head ever since. At every chance, you are reminded of what could have been your demise. You can see his sister’s pity, but she fears to utter a word. Then again, she had hardly been his target of wrath. That honor went to you. Becoming his plaything was what you believed to be a fate worse than death.

Late at night as you run his bath, Viserys asks, no, demands for you to join him. And he doesn't give you a chance to speak before you feel the water seeping into your dress. A pair of hands holding your waist with your hands on his shoulder to support yourself. You gasp when you felt it. Something firm between your inner thighs. Yet you do not muster the willpower to fight it.

With Viserys, you are constantly reminded of your status. How you’re beneath him. There’s the lingering threat that at any moment, he’ll be rid of you. That he has no need for you. Yet almost every other night is spent in his chambers.

Him pounding in and out of you mercilessly. Hips roughly pressing against yours. Watching your face contort to pleasure and the tears coat your eyes. The pad of his thumb presses against your lower lip when you bite it to hold on to the moans. Grunts and groans seeping out of his mouth on how your cunt belongs to him and only him.

There’s him also pulling you on top of him, having you ride him as your life depends on it. Lower back gripped as he guides your hips up and down. It’s when you come from your high does he whisper of your shared future. When he will one day claim the iron throne. You pretend to close your eyes. But in that moment there and then, you realize he does indeed have a need for you.

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