#aegon targaryen x reader x aemond targaryen

[glennussy]

time to spend my valentine's day single and curled in bed reading x reader fics :)

ahahahaha i hate myself

[hisfavegirl]

Hey girl, I love your HOTD reactions sm! What about like how they would react if you did a VS or Skims collab for a Valentine’s day set or something??

HOTD Characters Reaction To Your Campaign With Skims

Aegon was in the middle of scrolling through his phone, lazily lounging on the couch when his screen suddenly froze.

The SKIMS Valentine’s Day campaign.

Your face. Your body. Draped in lingerie so sheer it might as well be a second skin. Red silk, lace, curves accentuated perfectly—a vision of absolute sin. The shot that made his blood boil the most?

You, on a plush pink bed, biting your lip, fingers tangled in your hair—wearing nothing but a dangerously tiny bra and lace garters. The caption?

“Indulge yourself this Valentine’s Day. ❤️ #SKIMSLove”

The likes and comments were flooding in, men thirsting over you in real-time:

“THIS is what I want for Valentine’s Day.”

“Bro, she’s actually unreal.”

“Forget flowers, I’m sending divorce papers to my wife.”

“I just know her man is LOSING HIS MIND.”

Yeah. He was.

Aegon shot up, phone clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. His jaw? Tight. His eyes? Dark. His entire body radiated possessiveness, his breath coming out in ragged bursts.

His first instinct? Call you. Right. Now. But then he thought—No. No, you fucking knew what you were doing. Posting this without telling him? Letting the entire world drool over you while he was just supposed to sit there and take it?

His next move? Damage control.

The internet absolutely lost its mind.

The moment Aegon dropped the video on his Instagram story, everything went insane.

The clip was short but devastating—you, bent over his bed, skin flushed, your bare back marked with his claim, trembling, moaning his name like a prayer, wrecked beyond comprehension. Aegon’s hand came into view, gripping your waist, his voice low and smug, whispering,

“Didn’t think I’d let that SKIMS stunt slide, did you, baby?”

The internet? BROKE.

Twitter/X Exploded:

“THIS MAN JUST ENDED THE ENTIRE MALE POPULATION WTF”

“Aegon Targaryen is the pettiest, most unhinged man alive and I respect it.”

“She posted SKIMS, he posted HER. This is WAR.”

“HOW is this allowed on Instagram? WHO reported it? WHOEVER YOU ARE, WE FIGHT AT DAWN.”

“Bro turned Valentine’s Day into a public execution.”

Instagram Comments on His Last Post:

“Sir. Some of us are SINGLE.”

“That’s it. I’m deleting my boyfriend.”

“Y’all seeing her LEGS SHAKING??? Nah this man is different.”

“I’m not okay. I will never be okay.”

“We were thirsting over her SKIMS shoot and Aegon said ‘bet.’”

TikTok Reactions:

POV edits of Aegon with captions like “When your man reminds the world who you belong to 😵‍💫🔥”

Audio clips of “I want what they have” over slow-mo replays of the video

Girls fake crying into the camera with captions like “Me realizing I’ll never be this girl”

Reddit Threads:

r/popculturegossip

“Aegon Targaryen just HARD LAUNCHED his revenge arc, and I’ve never felt so single.”

“This is the most unhinged flex of all time, and I need therapy.”

“So we all agree he’s the pettiest man alive, right?"

Instagram eventually took the video down—but it was too late. Screenshots, edits, and memes had already flooded the internet. Aegon had won the war, and the internet was never recovering.

The second Aemond saw the photos—you, draped in delicate lace, barely covered, staring into the camera with that knowing, sultry look—his jaw clenched so tight it could snap.

His phone nearly cracked in his grip as he scrolled through the thousands of comments under the post:

“Mother is mothering.”

“Aemond is officially the luckiest man alive.”

“The male species has been defeated. We are but peasants.”

“You’re telling me this woman goes home to HIM??? Jail.”

A deep, dark chuckle left his lips—but it wasn’t amusement. It was pure, seething possession.

His eye twitched, his breathing heavy as he saw the likes flooding in—from men. From verified blue checks. From random nobodies who had no business looking at you like that.

“The fuck is this, darling?” His voice was deadly calm, but the way he stalked toward you, phone in hand, told you everything.

“A campaign.” You blinked at him, innocent. “For SKIMS.”

“A fucking campaign?” He scoffed, throwing his phone onto the table as he cornered you. “So that’s what we’re doing now? Letting every goddamn man on the internet see what’s MINE?”

He was pissed. Jealous. Possessive. His fingers traced up your arm, then gripped your jaw, tilting your face up to him.

“Tell me, did you enjoy it?” His voice dropped lower, dangerously soft. “Did you like having them all drooling over you?”

His eye burned into you, jaw tight as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Because now you’re going to remind them who you belong to.”

Aemond never lost control—but tonight? You were in for it.

The second Aemond posted the video, the internet broke.

It wasn’t just a thirst trap. It was a declaration. A warning. A final nail in the coffin for every man who thought they had a chance.

The clip was grainy, filmed through the dim light of his bedroom—his signature aesthetic. You were wrecked on his bed, wrists bound, body shaking, barely able to form a word except his name—moaned like a prayer, like a confession.

And Aemond? His signature smirk could be heard in his voice when he murmured:

“This is what happens when you forget who you belong to.”

Instagram Exploded :

“IS THIS EVEN ALLOWED???”

“So we’re just posting full-course MEALS now????”

“The way she’s literally trembling… yeah, I lost.”

"‘This is what happens when you forget who you belong to’ BRO CAN WE BREATHE???”

“The SKIMS campaign was for US. This? This was for HIM.”

“Aemond said, ‘You wanna model lingerie? Fine. Now model MY BED.’”

“The way she’s just a mess for him… If my man doesn’t love me like this, I DON’T WANT IT.”

Within minutes, Twitter (X) was on fire.

#AemondTargaryen

#SheBelongsToHim

#TiedUpForAemond

#OneEyedKing

Trending. Everywhere.

TWITTER/X MELTDOWN:

“I HAVEN’T EVEN RECOVERED FROM HER SKIMS SHOOT AND NOW THIS????”

“This man really said ‘revenge’ and ENDED US ALL.”

"Aemond Targaryen is a MENACE. I hate him. (I’m lying. I love him.)”

“THIS IS THE MOST POSSESSIVE, FILTHY, UNHINGED, HOTTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN. HELP ME.”

TIKTOK COMMENTS UNDER THE VIDEO:

Pinned by Aemond Targaryen : “Revenge is sweet, baby."

“My FBI agent just logged out. This is TOO MUCH.”

“This is NOT just a revenge post—THIS IS A WARNING.”

“Imagine posting a SKIMS campaign and your man drops THIS as a response… She WINS.”

“Her Skims photos were for US. Aemond’s revenge was for HIM.”

Meanwhile, Aemond? He just sat back, smirking at his phone as he watched the world come to terms with what they already knew.

You were his. And there was no escaping it.

Jace never had an issue with you modeling. Until now.

He was in a meeting when his phone started blowing up. At first, he ignored it—until Aegon sent him a link with nothing but:

“LMAO. You good, bro?”

Frowning, Jace clicked.

And there you were.

Draped in red lace. Skin glowing. Eyes hooded. Posing in a way that had every man on the planet foaming at the mouth. The SKIMS Valentine’s campaign had dropped, and you were the star.

The moment he saw the lingerie—saw the way your body looked in it—his jaw locked so tight it could crack.

And then he saw the comments.

“I just KNOW Jace is punching the air rn.”

“She’s too fine. If he won’t wife her, I WILL.”

“Jace, be so serious… How does it feel to lose?”

“Why does she look single in these photos???”

“Jace, if you fumble, I’m RIGHT HERE.”

The moment the meeting ended, Jace stormed out of the office, grabbing his phone and calling you immediately.

You picked up, cheerful—which only pissed him off more.

“You having fun?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You giggled. “Jacey, baby, did you see the campaign?”

“Oh, I saw it. So did the rest of the fucking world.”

You hummed, unbothered. “And?”

Jace ran a hand through his curls, breathing hard. He could see the photos in his mind—how every man was lusting over you.

His girl.

And the worst part?

You knew exactly what you were doing.

“And,” he growled, “you better be home when I get there.”

“Why?” you teased, voice all sweetness and sin.

Jace let out a dark chuckle. “So I can remind you who the fuck you belong to.”

One minute, people were thirsting over your SKIMS campaign, and the next?

Jace dropped a bomb.

A video.

A very explicit video.

You, bare, ruined, trembling on his bed. Voice completely gone. Every breath ragged. Body shaking violently. Jace’s hand on your ass, smacking every time you tried to move away. His voice? Dark. Dangerous. Possessive.

“Was it worth it, baby? Hm? Letting the whole world see you like that? Look at you now—can’t even talk, can’t even move. Next time you wanna tease me, remember who the fuck you belong to.”

And his caption? Head Shot.

“Since y’all were so thirsty for her SKIMS campaign, here’s what happened after. Enjoy.”

Instagram Comments :

“JACE, WTF IS THIS? I CAN’T BREATHE.”

“He saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘bet.’”

“NAH, THIS IS BIBLICAL. HER VOICE? GONE. BODY? FINISHED. JACE?? LAUGHING IN HER EAR?”

“This man took it PERSONAL LMFAO.”

“I ain’t never seen a man HUMBLED this fast 😭”

“THE WAY HE’S WHISPERING TO HER AND HIS HAND?? Y’ALL. I NEED HOLY WATER.”

“Her body shaking and his palm smacking down… Yeah. Yeah. That’s a man.”

“Jace saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘MY GIRL. MINE.’”

“You just KNOW he was PISSED when he saw those lingerie pics 😭.”

“She went from SKIMS model to Jace’s favorite meal real fast.”

“THE WHOLE VIDEO IS JUST HIM RUINING HER LIFE AND HER LETTING HIM 😭.”

“I need everyone involved in this video ARRESTED.”

“Bro uploaded this like a warning. Like, ‘you thought you were single in those photos? Here’s your reminder.’”

“HE REALLY POSTED THIS AS REVENGE FOR SKIMS. THIS IS A POWER MOVE.”



TWITTER REACTIONS : Trending Topics:

#JaceVelaryon

#JusticeForHerVoice

#SKIMSRevenge

#IsSheAlive??

Comments :

“Jace is actually insane for posting this. HER BODY IS SHAKING. HER VOICE IS GONE. AND HE’S JUST THERE, WHISPERING AND LAUGHING??? HELLO???”

“You KNOW he was mad about SKIMS cause why is this video a whole RESPONSE??? 😭”

“If my man doesn’t ruin me like this after I piss him off, I don’t want him.”

“Jace: ‘You wanna do a lingerie campaign and let men thirst over you? Cool. But they’re gonna watch you break for ME.’”

“Jace really saw those SKIMS pics, picked up his phone, and said: ‘hold my beer.’”

“THAT MAN POSTED A WHOLE MOVIE. AMAZON PRIME COULD NEVER."

TIKTOK REACTIONS: Viral TikTok Caption

“POV: Jace Velaryon took his SKIMS revenge to another level and now we’re all screaming, crying, throwing up.”

Sound: Cardi B screaming “WHAT WAS THE REASON?!”

“Y’all, Jace didn’t just claim his girl. He PLANTED HIS FLAG.”

“Her legs shaking and him laughing about it…? Yeah. I need therapy.”

“Jace’s hand on her ass, the way she arched, the way he smacked down??? I HAVE NEVER KNOWN PEACE.”

FINAL VERDICT:

The internet is absolutely UNWELL. Jace won. You? Finished. The SKIMS campaign? Irrelevant.

The moment Daemon sees the SKIMS campaign, his entire demeanor shifts. He had been lounging in his office, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone—until your face, your body, wrapped in delicate lace, fills his screen. His jaw clenches, his grip on the phone tightening as he watches you pose effortlessly, seductive and stunning, every inch of you made to be worshipped.

And so were the thousands of comments under the post.

“She’s an angel AND a sin. How is that fair?”

“I need her. No, actually, I’ll die without her.”

“Whoever her man is, I hope he knows he lost her to the world today.”

Daemon lets out a dark chuckle, but there’s nothing amused about it. His blood is boiling, his possessiveness clawing at his insides. Lost you to the world? They had no idea who they were talking about.

With a sharp inhale, he slams his phone down on the desk and gets up, pacing the room. His mind races. He knows you love teasing him, knows you like pushing boundaries—but this? This was a direct challenge. A test. And Daemon Targaryen does not lose.

Grabbing his car keys, he heads straight for you. No calls. No texts. You knew what you had done. Now? Now, you’d deal with the consequences.

The internet exploded within minutes of Daemon’s post.

No caption. No explanation. Just you, completely wrecked—your expression dazed, mouth parted as soft whimpers left your lips. His hand cradled your face, slapping your cheek with a teasing, mocking rhythm. And though his other hand wasn’t in frame, the wetness sounds that filled the video left no room for imagination.

Twitter/X:

“WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WATCH???”

“Daemon just said ‘she’s MINE’ without saying a single damn word.”

“This man saw the SKIMS shoot and said ‘bet’ 😭”

“HELP ME I CAN’T BREATHE WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE SOUNDS???”

Instagram Comments:

“Okay but the way she looks at him?? That’s not just lust, that’s ruin.”

“He posted this just to remind everyone he owns her and honestly? It worked.”

“WHO ALLOWED THIS TO BE ON MY FEED??? I have work in the morning.”

“I feel like I just saw something I shouldn’t have… and yet I can’t stop watching.”

TikTok Reactions:

Edits of the SKIMS shoot transitioning to Daemon’s video with captions like:

“She teased him, and he answered.”

“SKIMS said ‘sexy’—Daemon said ‘MINE’.”

Compilation of reactions to the sound alone, with people throwing their phones across the room or covering their faces in shock.

Reddit Threads:

“Daemon Targaryen just changed the internet forever.”

“The SKIMS campaign was a declaration. Daemon’s video? A WAR CRIME.”

“How do we recover from this? WE DON’T.”

While some were losing their minds over the intensity, others were spiraling at the undeniable claim staked in that video. Daemon wanted the world to know—you were his, and no amount of cameras or campaigns would ever change that.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @ashblooddragons @callsignwidow

Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for letting me using your dividers ❤️‍🩹

[velieditss]

Valentine’s Day

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧

♡ ✧ Valentine’s Headcanons ✧ ♡

I know I'm a day late, but late is better than never

✧･ﾟ Aemond ･ﾟ✧

He doesn’t see himself as a romantic man. He doesn’t expect anyone to sigh over him, nor does he believe in sentimental gestures. But if you ever happened to mention—almost absentmindedly—that you like a certain book, a particular piece of jewellery, or a specific dessert, he will remember. And days later, you’ll find it in your room or among your belongings, with no note, no explanation. He won’t tell you it was him. He doesn’t seek recognition. Simply knowing that you have something that makes you happy is enough.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

✧･ﾟ Gwayne ･ﾟ✧

If you give him a gift, no matter how small, he will carry it with him always. A handkerchief embroidered with care, a simple thread bracelet, a trinket of little value… To him, it is a treasure. And if anyone dares to mock him, he won’t even flinch. He will simply smile calmly before replying, “Only true men can bear the weight of love.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

✧･ﾟ Davos ･ﾟ✧

Flowery words aren’t his style. He has no patience for long letters or poetic confessions. His words are simple, direct, impossible to misinterpret. One day, without warning, he will look you straight in the eye and say, “I like you. I want to be with you. Tell me what I need to do.” And then he will wait, with the quiet certainty of a man who has made up his mind.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

✧･ﾟ Aegon ･ﾟ✧

He never understood why people celebrate love only one day a year. If he is in love, he shows it every day. You wake up to gifts on your bed, to spontaneous parties thrown in your honour, to his laughter declaring that the world should celebrate your existence just as much as he does. There are no limits to his extravagance, nor to his desire to see you happy.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

✧･ﾟ Daeron ･ﾟ✧

Valentine’s Day isn’t enough for him. He learns to play an instrument in secret, practising until his fingers ache, just so that on that special day, you can hear a melody composed solely for you. And when he plays it, there will be pride in his gaze, because every note carries a piece of his heart.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

✧･ﾟ Cregan ･ﾟ✧

He’ll teach you to hunt… but will do all the work himself. If you ever express an interest, he’ll take you with him, but in the end, he’ll ensure you don’t have to lift a finger. "This isn’t your place," he’ll say, though in truth, he simply wants to shield you from any discomfort.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

✧･ﾟ Jace ･ﾟ✧

When the time comes to give you a gift, he is restless. He makes sure everything is perfect, that it is something you will truly love. He might rehearse his words in front of a mirror or second-guess himself a hundred times before handing it over. Because to him, it isn’t just a gift. It’s his way of showing how much you mean to him.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

✧･ﾟ Luke ･ﾟ✧

He wants to surprise you, so he decides to bake a cake for Valentine’s Day. But something goes wrong. Perhaps too much flour, or not enough sugar. Perhaps the kitchen ends up in complete chaos. But even so, he presents it to you with a beaming smile, proud of his effort, hoping that at the very least, the thought behind it will make you happy.

Masterlist

[hiatuswhore]

ωнιѕρєяѕ σƒ тнє тι∂є

♕ A/N: I wrote this a while ago and have just been tinkering with it. Thought I’d post it since it’s just sitting with the rest of my many unposted drafts of ideas. Still stuck in this writers rut.

♕ SUMMARY: When salt and sea met fire and blood, it gave history the likes of Laenor and Laena Velaryon. While history often glazes over them, never over her.

♕ WORD COUNT: 1.2K

♕ WARNING: None

previous — Masterlist — next

Your giggles are drowned out by Jacaerys' consistent calls of your name. Moving quickly you easily scaled the Red Keep walls, hardly paying attention to your footing.

“We have been instructed to desist in climbing about the keep. It is dangerous we shall fall,” Jacaerys stared up at you with pleading eyes as many of the passing nobles watched the two of them.

“It is dangerous. We shall fall,” Your voice squeaked as you took a seat on the edge letting your legs dangle off the edge. Your hair wildly blows back as you grin down at the Prince. “Will you forever swear obeisance to rules?”

“Lady Velayron, your father would likely be unhappy to know his daughter persists in participating in dangerous activities,” Ser Harwin called up to you with a growing smirk.

“If Lord Corlys cared so urgently as you claim then perhaps he’d be here to correct his daughters behavior,” You smirked down at the knight, cocking your head to the side.

“Get down, now,” Ser Laenor huffed, crossing his arms as you rolled your eyes. The three watched as you climbed down with ease, one wrong step and your life permanently altered or forfeit. “How many times have I told you to stop climbing about the keep.”

“We ride dragons and yet your concern is my climbing?” You asked, crossing your arms looking up at Laenor. Laenor ignored you, opting to remind your nephew it was almost time for training.

“And Rhaenyra is expecting you in the commons,” Laenor said, groaning, your shoulders slouch as Harwin said he was already headed in that direction.

“Of course you are,” You rolled your eyes as Harwin urged you through the keep. As you passed the training yard, you paused at the sight of the boys.

“I see Ser Cole is at it again,” You grumbled, crossing your arms. You could never make sense of the Dornish Knight. Not for the lack of trying, your blunt line of questioning earning the Knights cold vacant stares always typically reserved for your dark haired nephews. “Do you think he ever tires of being a grouch?”

Harwin chuckled lazily, you looked up at him narrowing your eyes. He certainly did not hear you, the way his eyes remained on the training yard. His lack of awareness leaves you time to climb quickly up the neighboring wall peering down at the private training.

You scoffed down at them, sticking your tongue out as Moody Aemond caught your gaze. The boy rolled his eyes, the minor reaction earning a snicker. As the boys practice their forward jabs with the blunted wooden swords, your eyes sparkle with wonder. You jab your own arm forward mimicking the movement. The Dornish Knights instruction cements in your brain as you practice as though you wield your own sword.

“Lady Velayron, get down here and on we go,” Ser Harwins baritone shatters your fantasy in seconds. You huffed your arms flailing with a dramatic drop of your shoulders.

“Why must I join the princess. We’ll just drink tea and maybe sew. It’s mind numbingly dull,” You complained, a snicker from below transitioning your dramatic whining into a fiery glare.

“We all must partake in the things that befit us my lady,” Aegon taunts.

“So shouldn’t you be scrubbing chamber pots?” You countered, collective chuckles from her nephews and Aemond fueling the fire.

“You little—!” Aegon angrily pointed up to be met with a sly smirk. Your eyebrow raised as you grin. Aegon’s tantrum swiftly cut by the Dornish Knight's stern tone.

“Lady Velaryon, how many times must you be told there is no place for you here in this session?” Ser Cole looked up at you, his gaze not as cold as it could be but not what you wanted.

“I’d make a better student than that bonehead,” You counter, earning another angry huff from Aegon.

“Since you believe yourself to be so knowledgeable, please regale us on the prince's shortcomings,” His patronizing tone was far more harsh than necessary.

“Lady Velaryon let’s go,” Ser Harwin called out.

“His posture is flat, grip on the handle too loose, and jab extension too far. One parry and shoulder jab forward he could be knocked off his feet by any stronger or faster opponent,” You cross your arms, your matter of fact, silencing the training yard. At that you continue, “he's a one note warrior swinging wildly leaving himself vulnerable to smaller attacks.”

Ser Cole's eyes narrowed, his gaze unreadable as a girl not even half his age challenged his word. A students performance reflects not only of their own talents or lack thereof but the talent of their teacher. One truth could not be denied, in his teachings you had been listening.

“This is a closed training session for the princes of the realm. Any further interruptions from you will result in discussions of disciplinary action. Are we clear, my lady?” You scoff. Rolling your eyes you climbed down silently, falling into step with Ser Harwin.

“My lady, you must focus,” Septa Marlow urged as you groan.

“Blah blah. The Conqueror came, took over. Failed to take Dorne. His son failed at being king, his scary son failed at diplomacy. Several Targaryens later. Now we are here,” You concluded your bored gaze locked with your Septa’s stern one.

Rhaenyra chuckled, entering the room with a grin, “my little lady perhaps you should write the history texts.”

“It’d be far more interesting than this,” You rest your chin in the palm of your hand. Your elbow atop the table as your fingers drum against your cheek. “I want to train with the sword but Ser Cole is rude and stupid. Any advice?”

Rhaenyra takes a seat dismissing Marlow, her hand atop her pregnant belly, “now what advice do you think I could have for such a thing?”

“Well girls usually aren’t heirs yet you are set to sit the throne,” Rhaenyra smiles warmly.

“Well for starters calling my brother a bone head who should be scrubbing chamber pots will not aid you in your conquest,” Rhaenyra reasons with amusement dancing in her eyes with a raised eyebrow.

“I only spoke the truth, what’s the harm in that!” You exclaim, earning another laugh. Your gaze falling absent, kicking your dangling feet beneath the table. Visibly not listening to a single word leaving Rhaenyra.

“When you become queen can you declare I have to be allowed into training sessions?” You ask, the princess chuckling.

“My best advice to you, if you wish to insert yourself into places you’re unwanted. You must know when to speak and when to hold your tongue.” Rhaenyra said ruffling your hair with a gentle smile.

You giggle softly, your gaze shifting to her pregnant belly, “I hope the babe is a girl.”

“Me as well, my girl. But if it’s a boy I’ll be just as happy,” Rhaenyra rubs her belly a tender glint in her eyes as you lean down to her belly. Your eyes narrow, speaking to her pregnant belly as though you can will the gender. “You better be a girl.”

“And if it’s a boy?” Rhaenyra chuckles softly. Your eyes narrow on her stomach as you grumble. “Mhm. Traitor.”

[ceoofglytchell]

POV: It’s Valentine’s Day and you still can’t decide which sibling lover to be with~

Aegon: “Sister, please, what does he have what I have not? I would give you everything. I would lay it all at your feet if you so wished.”

Aemond: “Do not listen to that wastrel, hāedar. You are mine.”

Sister!Reader: “Gods, be good-“

(The pics are not mine, I found them on pinterest. Credits go to the owners)

[mydearviserra]

Wanting more

╰┈➤ ❝ [ otto Hightower x Fem! Reader ]

Warning: affair, fingering, oral, first time sex, ,LONG one shot!

Note: Reader first time having sex so it’s written with innocence and guilt because Otto isn’t her husband. Lol this took me a week to write I’m writing better lol i didnt rush that bad with it

It’s exactly 2/13 11:50pm when I finished editing/ writing I know damn well I missed so much so tm I’ll fix it so don’t mind what my half exhausted mind wrote💔

How

How did I land myself in such position

I couldn’t remember the first time i kissed him, I was too drunk at the feast to even remember. One simple kiss landed me almost many moons later with Otto behind my legs, staring down at me as he held back from wanting to grip off my nightgown with his teeth like a damn animal.

Daemon never looked at me the way Otto does, nor have I scene daemon since our wedding feast. The thought of never consummating our marriage made me feel a bit in my stomach but now that Otto is ready to eat me alive i felt the pit burning a hole through my body

Otto's breathing grew heavier as he cupped between her legs, feeling the heat emanating from their most intimate area even through the fabric of her smallclothes. His fingers began to move, rubbing and stroking along the outside of the garment, tracing the contours of her most sensitive parts.

A twinge of guilt pricked at Otto's conscience, knowing this was wrong, that he should not be touching a married woman in such a lewd manner. But his lustful urges overpowered any sense of propriety or familial decorum. He told himself that this is what they both wanted. How much i craved to be touch and longed by a man, I wound have never guessed it’ll be Otto. Days I tried to discuss my, needs to daemon. The most recent time he brought a whore into his chambers while I was trying to have this discussion with him. For Otto, Women was the least concern after his wife passed he imagined he’d never lust for another again. Let alone now in the most scandalous way, unbecoming of his title as hand of the king he’ll lust for a married woman. Daemon women, yet deep in Otto heart he felt so alive in this moment. The thrill of his fingers caressing the folds of her, her untouched pussy made him want to cum in his pants at the thought.

Otto's other hand slid under the covers, finding my bare thigh. He caressed the smooth, soft skin, relishing the feel of it beneath his calloused fingers. His hand moved higher and higher, pushing up her nightgown as he went. Soon, he was cupping my bare core, feeling the warmth of it against his palm. A finger traced along my slit, feeling the delicate folds.

Otto's manhood throbbed almost painfully in his breeches as he touched her so inappropriately. He ached to free himself, to plunge into her most secret place and claim her as his own. But he resisted the urge, not wanting to startle he saw how sensitive she was to his simple touch. Face bright red while her gaze looked away what she didn’t hide was soft, eager moans escape her soft parted lips. 

Instead, he continued to fondle and caress her core, his finger circling around her sensitive pearl. He could feel the dampness beginning to gather there, the proof of her body's response to his touch. Otto's breathing grew ragged as he touched her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" Otto murmured under his breath, more to himself. "And all mine for the taking..." He smiled wickedly to himself, his mind already conjuring up all the deliciously depraved things he wanted to do to her body

Otto please talk be through it

Daemon will forgive me

He has his own play things, I shall have mine

Otto shall be my toy..

Otto's own body reacted to the sound of her moan and the feeling of her slick arousal coating his fingers. Otto began to move his fingers more purposefully, rubbing and circling her sensitive pearl as he slid one long finger inside her tight, wet heat. He groaned softly at the feel of her walls clenching around his invading digit, as if trying to pull him in deeper. His manhood throbbed almost angrily against the confines of his breeches, a damp spot forming where the head leaked pre-cum.

"Look at me- now. ," Otto murmured, his voice low and rough with lust. "Tell me to stop okay? This is for your pleasure”

“Keep going..please don’t stop..” my voice trembling with slight guilty, the awakening of pleasure slowly brewing inside of me it felt like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Once I opened my eyes turning my head to meet his gaze he continued again . 

Otto worked a second finger into dripping pussy, pumping them in and out, curling them to rub against that spongy spot on the front wall of her core. His thumb continued to circle and rub my clit, making my hips twitch and jerk

Otto's other hand slid up to cup and knead my breast, feeling the soft weight of it in his palm. He brushed his thumb over the peak, feeling it stiffen and harden under his touch. He longed to take her nipple into his mouth and suckle hard, but he resisted the urge. Instead, he focused on bringing closer to the edge with his fingers, fucking her harder and faster, his digits glistening with her arousal.

“O-oh! Oh gods! Otto! I can’t-“ I quickly cover my mouth to hide screaming of pleasure, the guilt was eating me alive as i clenched around his fingers. My body began tensing, breathing growing more ragged as I practically gasp to hide the sinful moans. I pulled my hands that once grip onto the sheets to travel move my hands onto your breasts, needing and pitching over the night grown

"That's it, my little dove," he encouraged, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Touch yourself just like that. Imagine it's my hands on your body, worshipping every inch of your luscious curves." He watched shamelessly as I fondled my breasts, I bit onto my lips as I saw his own hand slid under her nightgown to grope and squeeze the bare flesh of my breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm. He rolled the nipple between his fingers, tugging and plucking at it until it was red and throbbing. Pulling my hands away to let him go on

“Otto- please I..I can’t I need too-“ I fumbled my words i couldn’t even complete the sentence as an unfamiliar feeling swirling in my stomach. Otto could feel my body tensing, my inner muscles fluttering wildly around his plunging fingers as he broughtmr closer and closer to the pinnacle of pleasure. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear as he growled,

"Come for me, I want to feel you come undone on my fingers, want to feel your sweet little pussy spasm and clench as you scream your release. Give yourself to me, my dove . Let me feel you come apart."

With that, Otto rubbed my clit harder and faster, his fingers pumping into me at a relentless pace as he pushed over the edge. He could feel my body stiffening. My body went rigid, my back arching sharply off the bed as a strangled cry tore from her throat.

"A-Otto! Oh, gods, Otto!"i wailed, my inner walls clamping down viciously around his plunging fingers as I came undone. My juices gushed out around his hand, soaking his fingers and dripping down onto the sheets beneath you.

Otto groaned gutturally as he felt my velvet soft walls spasming and fluttering wildly around his fingers, her pleasure dripping out and coating his hand. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, drawing out her climax for as long as possible, relishing every clench and shudder of her sex.

"That's it," Otto panted harshly, his own arousal throbbing almost painfully in his breeches. "Come for me, scream my name, let all of the castle know who makes you feel this way." He rubbed her clit firmly, circling the sensitive nub as her orgasm crashed over her in waves.

As my climax began to subside, my body going boneless and slumping back against the mattress, Otto slowly withdrew his soaked fingers from my dripping core He brought them to his mouth, making a show of licking my essence from each digit, his eyes never leaving my face.

"Delicious," Otto murmured, his voice rough with lust. "You taste even sweeter than I imagined, my dove ." He licked his lips, his gaze roaming hungrily over my disheveled form, taking in the way my chest heaved with each ragged breath, the way my nightgown was hiked up around my waist to reveal the glistening flesh of her core. "I know this is all so new and overwhelming for you, but I swear, I will make you feel pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."

"You want to taste more, don't you, my princess?" Otto murmured, his thumb circling her clit, making you gasp and shudder. "You want to wrap your sweet little mouth around my cock, to feel it throbbing against your tongue as you take it deeper and deeper into your throat?"

Yes! Oh please yes

“I do..oh please I do”

Otto's other hand reached down to wrap around his straining erection, pumping it slowly as he watched my face for her reaction. He could feel the thick vein on the underside pulsing with each beat of his heart, could feel the silky steel of his shaft as he stroked it. My teeth sinked harshly against my lip, almost enough to cause blood.

"I want to feel your lips stretched wide around me, want to fuck your pretty face until I paint your throat with my seed," Otto growled, his hips rocking into his fist. "Would you like that, my dove ? To taste my cock, to swallow down every drop of his essence?"

I nodded eagerly , a moan escaping as Otto's thumb circled ny sensitive clit, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I couldn't believe what i was feeling, the overwhelming urge to touch myself, to taste Otto, to have his cock in my mouth. But the ache between my legs was too intense to ignore.

"Yes," my voice barely above a whisper. "I want to taste you, Otto. I want to feel your cock in my mouth, want to make you feel good." I licked my lips, my gaze locked on his thick shaft, watching as it throbbed and leaked precum. "Teach me how to please you," i added, a hint of shy eagerness in my voice.

Otto's eyes darkened with lust at my breathless confirmation, a feral grin spreading across his face. He released his shaft and reached out to grasp her chin, tilting her face up to look at him. His thumb brushed over her plump bottom lip, tracing the delicate curve.

"That's my good girl," Otto praised, his voice a low, approving rumble. "I'm going to teach you everything you need to know to be a perfect little cock slut for me." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, "First, start by wrapping your hand around the base of my shaft. Feel how thick it is, how hard it is for you."

Otto guided my small hand to his throbbing erection, wrapping my fingers around the thick base. He groaned at the feel of my soft skin against his aching flesh, his hips jerking slightly at my touch. His cock was so engorged and stiff that he could feel every ridge and vein pulsing beneath her palm.

"Now, start stroking it," Otto instructed, his voice strained with desire. "Move your hand up and down the shaft, squeezing gently. Explore every inch of it with your fingers." He demonstrated the motion with her hand, helping her stroke him from base to tip and back again.

As I began to pump his cock with clumsy enthusiasm, Otto reached down with his other hand to grip himself at the root, pointing his shaft towards my face. Drops of precum oozed from the flared head, dripping onto my parted lips.

"Open your mouth, princess," Otto commanded, rubbing the leaking tip

My lips parted obediently, my tongue darting out to lap at the bead of precum drooling from the swollen head of Otto's cock. I shuddered at the unfamiliar taste, a jolt of electricity shooting through the intimate contact. The musky, slightly salty flavor exploded on my tongue, making me want more.

"Good girl," Otto praised, his voice a low, approving growl as he felt her tongue flick against his sensitive flesh. "Now take the head into your mouth. Wrap your lips around it and suck gently."

I did what I was told, my soft lips engulfing the broad crown of Otto's shaft. I could feel it throbbing against my tongue, could taste the salty precum leaking steadily from the tip. Hesitantly at first, i began to suckle, my cheeks hollowing slightly as i drew on the head of his cock.

"That's it, princess," Otto encouraged, his hand coming to rest on the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. "Take more of it into your mouth. I want to feel your hot little throat squeezing around me."

Obediently, i opened her jaw wider and took another inch of Otto's thick length into my mouth. I could feel it stretching my lips, pressing against the roof of my mouth as she struggled to accommodate him. The taste of his skin, the weight of his shaft on my tongue, was dizzying.

"More," Otto demanded, his hips rocking slightly to push himself deeper into the wet heat of my mouth. "Take it deeper, my dove . I know you can do it."

I relaxed her throat and took another few inches, feeling the head of Otto's cock pressing against the back of my throat. I gagged slightly, my throat convulsing around the intrusion, but I didn't pull away. Instead, i focused on breathing through her nose and relaxing my muscles.

"That's my good girl," Otto praised, his voice strained. "Your mouth feels so fucking good wrapped around my cock. I can't wait to feel your tight little pussy squeezing me just as nicely." He began to slowly thrust into her mouth, fucking her face with shallow pumps of his hips

Otto groaned as he felt my throat constricting around his sensitive cockhead with each thrust, the tight, rippling flesh massaging him exquisitely. He could feel my hands coming up to grasp his thick thighs for balance as he slowly hilted himself deeper and deeper into my hot, willing mouth.

I fear I might crave Otto

A sin to want another man

My untouched body ruined by Otto and yet..I’m happy it’s him

I want to be pleased by a man, not a spoiled prince

"That's it, princess," Otto grunted, his fingers tightening in her hair as he hit the back of her throat. "Take it all like a good girl. I want to feel myself buried in your tight little throat."

He began to thrust more firmly, his heavy balls slapping against my chin with each pump of his hips. Drool began to leak from the corners of her stretched lips, dripping down onto her nightgown as Otto fucked her pretty face with increasing fervor.

Otto could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, his climax approaching rapidly. The sight of his innocent stepdaughter, her cheeks bulging obscenely as he used her mouth, was almost too much to bear. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself to the hilt and paint her throat white with his seed.

But he held back, wanting to drag out this moment for as long as possible. Instead, he pulled out abruptly, his slick shaft slapping wetly agains her cheek, leaving a smear of saliva and precum on her soft skin.

"Enough," Otto said, his voice ragged and rough with barely controlled lust. "I need to be inside your other tight little hole now. I need to feel your pussy squeezing me as I fuck you."

He grabbed my wrists and pushed me down on the bed. In a flash, he had ripped my nightgown off over my head and tossed it aside, leaving me bare and exposed beneath him. His hungry gaze raked over my nubile body, taking in every dip and curve.

"Spread your legs for me, princess," Otto commanded, settling himself between her thighs. The thick head of his cock nudged against her dripping slit, smearing her juices along her folds. "I'm going to fill you up now, going to claim this sweet little hole as mine."

I gasped as Otto manhandled me, a thrill of fear and excitement shooting through my as he exposed me completely naked body to his ravenous gaze. I had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of another person. But as Otto loomed over me,I couldn't deny the heat pooling between my thighs, the aching emptiness that craved to be filled.

With shaking hands, I reached down to spread my legs, opening myself completely to him. I could feel the cool air of the chamber kissing my most intimate places, making me shiver. The slick, swollen lips of my hole glistened in the candlelight, dripping withmy arousal.

"Please, Otto," i whimpered, my voice small and breathy with need. "I've never... I mean, I don't know if I can take something so big inside me."

Despite my nervousness, I arched my hips up slightly, seeking more of that delicious friction against my aching core. I could feel the thick head of Otto's cock nudging against my entrance, the heat of it searing me even as it made me quiver with anticipation.

Otto growled low in his throat at the sight of her pristine, untouched hole laid bare before him. He could see her rosebud fluttering nervously, her dewy petals quivering with each shallow breath she took. The knowledge that he would be the first, the only man to ever claim this sweet prize, only inflamed his lust.

"Shh, don't worry, my dove ," Otto soothed, even as his hips rocked forward to notch the broad crown of his shaft inside her tight entrance. "I'll be gentle... at first. Tell me when it’s to much okay? my perfect dove” ."

With that, Otto began to push forward, the thick head of his cock stretching my virgin passage. Her slick walls clung to him desperately, fluttering and rippling as they struggled to accommodate his girth. Inch by excruciating inch, he sank deeper into her hot, silky depths.

I cried out, my back arching off the bed as I was stretched wider than j ever thought possible. Pain and pleasure warred within me. My cries of pain and pleasure intermingled as Otto slowly, inexorably pushed himself deeper into me. My slick inner walls strained and stretched around his thick, pulsing shaft, the wet heat enveloping him like a velvet vise.

"That's it, princess," Otto grunted, sweat beading on his brow from the effort of holding back, of not simply rutting into her tight little hole with wild abandon. "Take my cock. Let it reshape you, mold you to fit me perfectly."

He could feel every quiver and clench of her untried walls, could feel the way her body fought to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely for the first time. The knowledge that he was the one to take her innocence, to claim her so thoroughly, only spurred on his lust.

Otto paused when he felt the thin barrier of her hymen stretching taut against the ridge of his cockhead. He looked down at her flushed, panting face, saw the way her eyes were clenched shut in concentration and slight pain. With a swift, sharp thrust of his hips, he breached her, tearing through the fragile membrane and burying himself to the hilt in one stroke.

I screamed, my voice echoing off the chamber walls as searing agony exploded through my lower body. Tears sprang to my eyes, leaking down my temples as i thrashed beneath Otto, trying to escape the overwhelming pain and pressure. Her hands scrabbled at his back, nails digging into his skin, but Otto was unmoving, pinning her down as he waited for her to adjust.

"Shh, it's done," Otto murmured, his voice a dark rumble in his chest. "You're mine now, princess. My little virgin dove, claimed and deflowered" He rolled his hips, grinding his pelvis against hers as he savored the feel of her impossibly tight sheath gripping him like a fist. "No man will ever fill you like I can. No one will ever make you feel as good as I will."

I whimpered and trembled beneath Otto, my body wracked with a maelstrom of sensations too intense and overwhelming for me inexperienced nerves to process. The pain of my lost innocence slowly began to ebb, morphing into a strange, aching emptiness that craved to be filled once more. My walls fluttered weakly around the thick intruder stretching me open, still trying to adjust to the foreign sensation of being so utterly claimed.

Tears streaked down my flushed cheeks as I gazed up at Otto with wide, trusting eyes. Despite the pain and the sheer size of him inside me,I couldn't deny the flickers of pleasure sparking through my as he ground against my most sensitive places.my breath hitched as a particularly firm roll of his hips sent a jolt of heat straight to my core.

"I... I feel so full," I whimpered "So big and hard inside me. I never knew it would be like this."

I could feel every throb and twitch of Otto's shaft as it pulsed within me , could feel the weight of his heavy balls pressing against my bottom. The knowledge that he had taken me , claimed me , branded her as his own sent a dark thrill through me.

I would hear daemon fuck his whores though they were never as loud as I was

I felt better knowing the difference between them

I took a shuddering breath, my slick inner muscles clenching reflexively around Otto's thick length. "Please... please don't stop," i whispered, my voice ragged with need. "I want to feel more. I want you to... to fuck me, Otto. Make me yours completely."

As I spoke those bold words, I wrapped my legs around Otto's waist, locking my ankles at the small of his back. The movement caused ny hips to tilt up, taking him impossibly deeper into my tight, grasping sheath. I could feel him in her belly, could feel the head of his cock kissing my womb with each twitch and throb.

"Ruin me for any other man- ruin me like my husband should have done,"I breathed, my eyes burning into Otto's with a newfound hunger. "I'm yours, Otto. My body is yours to use for your pleasure. Please... please fuck me hard and fill me up until I can't take anymore."

A dark, feral grin split Otto's face, his eyes glinting with triumph and unbridled lust. He had waited so long to hear those words from her sweet lips, to know that she was finally his to claim and take as he pleased. And now, with her legs wrapped around him and her tight little hole gripping his cock like a silken vise, Otto knew he would not hold back any longer.

"As my dove commands," Otto growled, his voice a low, approving rumble. He leaned down to capture her l. ips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to stake his claim on her once more. At the same time, he drew back his hips until only the tip of his shaft remained inside her, before slamming forward to bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

I cried out into the kiss, my scream of pained pleasure muffled by Otto's demanding mouth. My back arched sharply off the bed as he began to move, each powerful thrust of his hips driving the air from my lungs and sending shockwaves of sensation crashing through me. The wet, obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the chamber as Otto pistoned into me , fucking me with deep, relentless strokes that shook the very bed beneath them.

"That's it" Otto panted against her lips, his breath hot and ragged. "Take my cock. Feel it splitting you open, stretching this greedy little hole around my thick shaft." He punctuated each word with a sharp, driving thrust, grinding his pelvis against hers as he hit her cervix dead on.

I could only cling to Otto, my fingers scrabbling at his sweat-slicked back as he used my with wild abandon. Each drag of his cock against my sensitive walls sent bolts of searing pleasure shooting through her, stoking the heat building rapidly in her core. I could feel my body beginning to tense, my muscles drawing taut as a bowstring as my climax approached.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I chanted mindlessly, too lost in sensation to care how wanton i sounded. "Don't stop, Otto! Harder, please! I'm... I'm going to...” my words dissolved into a wordless scream as my orgasm crashed over me, my whole clamping down around Otto's

My scream of ecstasy echoed through the chamber as my climax finally overtook me, my untouched body convulsing wildly beneath Otto's relentless onslaught. My slick inner walls clamped down around his plunging shaft like a vice, rippling and milking his length as if trying to draw him even deeper into my core. The sensation was almost too much for Otto to bear, the feel of her virgin pussy squeezing him so tightly, as if her very body was trying to keep him inside her forever.

"That's it, princess," Otto grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Come on my cock. Let me feel this sweet little hole spasming around me as you find your pleasure."

He pistoned into her harder, each thrust shaking the headboard and rattling the very frame of the bed. One hand reached down to grasp her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he yanked her into each savage thrust, while the other hand delved between their sweat-slicked bodies to find her swollen little clit.

Otto rubbed the sensitive nub in tight circles, feeling it throb against his fingertips as she shuddered and bucked beneath him. The added stimulation sent her hurtling into a second, even more intense climax, her scream of rapture piercing the air.

"That's my good girl," Otto praised, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "You're going to come for me again and again until I fill this hungry little cunt with my seed."

He could feel his own release fast approaching, the coil of heat in his loins tightening to an unbearable degree. But Otto was determined to make her come one last time on his cock before he allowed himself the sweet relief of emptying his heavy balls inside her.

Leaning down, Otto captured one of her bouncing nipples between his teeth, sucking and biting at the sensitive bud as he pounded into her. His fingers moved from her clit to plunge into her dripping sex alongside his cock, pumping in and out of her fluttering channel as he fucked her through her peak.

My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming with pleasure as Otto drove my relentlessly towards yet another shattering climax.my mind was hazy, thoughts scattered to the wind, coherent only in the present moment - the feeling of Otto's thick shaft pistoning in and out of my dripping hole, his fingers toying with my sensitive clit, his teeth and tongue lavishing attention on my aching nipples.Each powerful thrust of his hips sent fresh waves of ecstasy crashing over me, my untouched body struggling to process the overwhelming onslaught of sensation.

As Otto's fingers plunged into her fluttering channel alongside his cock, she felt the coil of heat in her core tighten to an unbearable degree. Her inner muscles clamped down around the dual intrusions, gripping them like a silken vise as her climax built to a crescendo. She could feel every ridge and vein of Otto's shaft dragging against her sensitive walls, could feel the rough calluses of his fingers rubbing against her swollen, throbbing clit.

"I... I can't... too much..." i whimpered, even as my hips bucked feverishly to meet Otto's thrusts. Tears of rapture streamed down my face. I had never known pleasure could be this intense, this all-consuming. It was almost too much for her inexperienced body to bear.

Yet even as I teetered on the brink of her third climax, I found herself craving more. I wanted to feel Otto's hot seed flooding her depths, wanted to be marked and claimed and owned by him completely. With a final, keening cry, I came undone, my hole convulsing almost violently around Otto's pistoning length as my orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave.

"Otto!" I screamed, my voice raw and ragged with ecstasy. "Fill me, please! I want to feel your seed inside me. I want it, please!"

With a roar of triumph, Otto slammed into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt as her pussy clamped down around him like a molten vise. The sensation of her velvet walls rippling and milking his shaft was too much for the battle-hardened knight to withstand. With a guttural groan, Otto let his climax overtake him, his heavy balls drawing up tight as they unleashed a torrent of hot, thick seed directly into her waiting womb.

I could feel the scalding heat of Otto's release flooding my insides, painting my untouched depths with his essence. Jet after jet of potent cum pumped into her, filling me so completely that I could feel it sloshing heavily in her belly as Otto ground against me , working his shaft to ensure every last drop took root inside her

"Fuck" Otto growled, his weight pressing down on her as he shuddered through the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. "Take my seed, my dove. Let it sink into your womb and take hold. You'll carry my child, I know it."

He captured her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his lust and dark satisfaction into the embrace. One large hand slid down to possessively cup her mound, fingers delving between her dripping folds to feel the way her abused flesh fluttered around his softening shaft.

"You're mine now, my dove," Otto murmured against her lips, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "Mine to fuck, mine to breed. I'll fill this sweet cunt with my seed again and again until your belly swells with my child."

He rolled his hips lazily, stirring the mixture of their juices inside her as he slowly softened inside her clutching heat. Even as the haze of lust began to recede, Otto made no move to pull out of her instead settling his weight more fully on top of her as he savored the intimate connection.

“If daemon can please his lady wife then I shall take his place- you’ll be mine my darling dove all mine”

There is probably to much to edit so I’ll do it in the morning I’m to stubborn lol

ANYWHOO more stores lined up for This coming weeks,

Under the moonlight( Valentine’s special, fluff, aemond)

Return home (cregan x Jace, fluff)

Cherry baby( Tywin, nsfw)

And unnamed daemon x Rhaenyra x reader UH HUH poly guys lol I’m like In the middle of this one so it’ll take a while for this one to be out

ANDDDD aegon x Rhaenyra

[hotdsworld]

"Behave"

Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen x F!Martell!Reader

a/n: I kinda hate this piece but I truly wanted to finally publish something for the Valentine's day so here it is 😉 dividers and mdni by lovely @cafekitsune

Word count: 3,6k

Warnings: 18+!, oral (F receiving), public, degradation (not a lot of it), p in v, unprotected, spanking

Translations:

ābrazȳrys - wife

riñītsos - little girl

Minors please do not interact

There you were, a beautiful wife of Prince Regent. Your marriage was arranged, happened before Viserys died and left nothing but chaos. The old fool thought a simple marriage could fix what he had broken, but it did not work. It did not make Aemond calmer or less thirty for vengeance. Both Rhaenyra and Aegon were unfit to rule. You preferred to watch from the sidelines. Much like your house, you remained neutral. They could do so because of their independence, but you married into House Targaryen, one day you will have to choose like everyone else.

“Princess Y/n, is married life what you expected?” Larys Strong asked. A question a bit out of nowhere but you didn't let it get to you. You were used to that creep. You straighten your back, looking at Aemond with the corner of your eye. What a great chance to get back at your lovely husband…

“Would be much better if my lord husband spent his time with me in our bedchambers instead of sitting and plotting, lord Larys,” you smiled politely. Aemond clenched his jaw, your taunts were not to his liking. Larys showed no reaction, but judging by his eyes, he was amused. Larys was always a spectator, enjoying the drama, pulling the strings from the shadows. You did not trust him.

“The dragon should be careful if he doesn't want his lady wife snatched by another,” Tyland joined the conversation. He always found you beautiful and of course, you were going to use it. Why wouldn't you? All is fair, especially with Targaryens apparently.

“By a lion? They are quite greedy, aren’t they?” You smirked, watching Aemond intently. Tyland nodded slowly, catching your hint. He would never refuse a pretty woman, let alone a princess.

“We are. We take and take, and one might find it to be quite pleasurable,” Tyland was falling beautifully deeper into your trap. You giggled sweetly, batting your eyelashes. Aemond was forced to watch through the meeting as you shamelessly flirted with Lannister. Aemond had nothing against Tyland until today. How dare he watch Aemond's wife with lust? You belong to him, it mattered not if the marriage was arranged. You were Aemond's. And Aemond did not appreciate anyone playing with what belongs to him.

Aemond is a composed and calculated man, but being married to you was a real challenge. You had no fear and respect, he couldn't tell if you were brave or dumb, but he found it intriguing even if it irritated him to no end. He was fuming as your fingers trailed up Tyland’s arm, and he spoke before he could stop himself.

“It is common and courteous to pay attention to your lord husband first before you pay it to any other man,” Aemond hissed, struggling to control himself. You were infuriating, like your whole existence served to torment and annoy him. You? You enjoyed it. During war there weren't any enjoyable activities, but annoying your husband? Always worked. Since he was so easy to anger, yet he kept himself composed, taking pride in his reputation. Aegon? A chaotic drunk, but Aemond? He was better, he wanted to be. He needed to be better than the one who laughed at him.

“Why should I pay attention to a husband that hasn't been paying attention to me? Men of your… sorry, your brother's small council are much nicer and attentive, no? I might find myself enjoying their closer attention in private.” The room seemed to still. If it had been any other man, such a foul tongue would have earned you a brutal punishment. But this was Aemond. You weren’t afraid of him, not truly. No, you reveled in it. You enjoyed it. The way his jaw tensed, the way his fingers curled against the edge of the table, and for a moment you couldn't help but imagine them gripping your body tightly… He was struggling to maintain the icy composure he so desperately clung to. You loved watching him being on the edge of his restraint, and tonight, you intended to push him over. His eye darkened, full of rage as the gathered small council members exchanged uneasy glances. This wasn't just teasing, this was humiliation. You’d made him look weak, unable to control his own feelings, in front of the men he now led since Aegon was unable to.

“All you’ve been,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, as he kept himself back from shouting, “is a goddamn tease who has no fucking respect.” The slap came fast, the sound echoing in the chamber. It stung, hot and electrifying, a strange mix of pain and arousal ran through you, a feeling you couldn’t ignore. Your heart pounded, not with fear but excitement. You did it. You’d pushed Aemond past the breaking point. You ruined his image of a perfectly composed man. “You want my attention, ābrazȳrys?” He hissed, jaw clenched hard. You lost yourself in his voice. High Valyrian really suited him. You knew he had something planned, you angered him to no end… and that excited you. You craved whatever he wanted to give. “Now, you have it. All of it,” Aemond picked you up just to shove you down onto the table, causing a mess, papers to scattle and goblets to fall over, spilling wine. You smirked, biting your lip to prevent laughing. You were getting off on him losing control too much. Your whole body burned and he seemed to be burning as well. Aemond tore apart your pretty gown, it was one of your favorites but you didn't care. Not about your favorite piece getting ruined, not about others watching, not even about his roughness. Not when his hands were all over you, exploring. Aemond's cold hands are a contrast to your heated body, his touch urgent and possessive, intending to claim every single inch of you.

“My prince, it would not be wise to do it here in front of all,” Criston said calmly, and maybe Aemond would have listened to him, if he wasn't so fucking angry and hard. Criston made a mental note to mention it to Alicent later.

“No, I need to teach my wife how to behave. I need to show her the consequences,” Aemond answered sharply.

“Maybe we should leave you two alone. I believe we have discussed everything-” Tyland muttered, the men began to stand up, intending to leave. You barely heard him, too focused on your husband and his touch. You could feel yourself growing wet, impatient for what was about to come. You couldn't tell if you wanted the men to leave or to stay, but maybe it didn't matter. What mattered was getting Aemond as soon as you could.

“Sit,” Aemond’s voice cut through the air like a blade. A clear command, not a question. The men froze, recognizing the authority in the prince’s voice. Aemond knew perfectly well they wished to escape the room, all nervous and embarrassed, but he did not care. He wanted them here, witnessing this. And you couldn't find it in yourself to protest. There was something exciting about it. Before, Aemond wouldn't show you any kind of affection, not publicly, and now? He was ready to show everyone that you belong to him. The display of his dominance sent another rush of heat through your body. You clenched your thighs, trying to control the ache between your legs. Slowly, they sat back down, looking at their hands or away from your body.

You didn't cover yourself, you wouldn't. It was Aemond's world and you were the center of it. The very source of the anger and overwhelming need inside of him. Aemond focused back on you, leaning down to plant kisses all over your neck, sucking on your skin there. You moaned softly, tilting your head back, closing your eyes as you let the pleasure run through your veins. Maybe your plan worked a little too well, but you didn't complain. You were touch starved, and so was he judging by how desperately he was kissing your neck, his hands massaging your delicate breasts. Aemond was as hard as a rock, but he would be damned if he didn't prepare you first. You deserve a punishment, but not without the pleasure. You looked at Tyland, but only briefly because Aemond tugged on your hair, his kisses getting lower. He spread your legs, the action urgent but gentle. Fairly gentle, since he was still frustrated. “I want your eyes on me, riñītsos. The whole time,” his face hovered over your pussy, that was aching with need, you felt as if Aemond didn't touch you soon, you would beg for it, and you were too prideful for that. Aemond couldn't hold back even if he wanted to, taking a slow lick from your slit to your clit, pupils dilating at the taste. “If you look away I’m going to stop. No matter how close you will be, I will stop. And your cunt is dripping so I know how much you crave this. So eyes on me, riñītsos. Look how I claim you with my tongue,” he whispered, but you heard him clearly. Aemond leaned back down, his tongue immediately attacking your wet folds and hole, eager to taste more of you. You moaned in surprise, not expecting such eagerness. Your fingers tangling with his silky hair. You were like the most delicious dish, and he was a man starved. He moved his thumb up, rubbing small circles against your sensitive clit, his other hand traveled up to massage your breast. Your hips bucked forward involuntarily against his face. Aemond chuckled, sending vibrations through your core. The men tried to focus on themselves or the objects in the room, but they couldn't help stealing glances at your body. Aemond hummed, clearly satisfied with the position he found himself in, knowing they can look at you but they cannot touch, they cannot taste you like he can, because you belong to him. You tilt your head back, yet another loud moan escapes your lips, your face contorted in ecstasy. You have never experienced such pleasure, you couldn't even control your own body at the moment. All you could think about was how good his tongue felt on your body, claiming you utterly and completely. The pressure inside of you built rapidly, mounting with every second of Aemond eating you out so deliciously, until the intensity shattered into a wave of release, washing over you. Your thighs shook as Aemond licked up every single drop of your release, savoring the exquisite taste. You tasted better than the most expensive of wines. The sensation of the climax lingered, leaving you breathless for a good moment, but Aemond didn't let you recover so easily, flipping you onto your stomach. You were directly facing Tyland, which somehow made you even more excited for what was about to come. Aemond chose that position for a reason. He smirked, discarding his tunic rather quickly, almost tearing it apart. His slender fingers moved lower, working on his breeches swiftly. Soon enough, Prince Regent was completely bare before you and the small council. You looked over your shoulder, licking your lips. His abs was the best thing you have seen in a long time, if not in your whole life. You couldn't wait to get your hands and mouth on him, but your husband seemed to have different plans. Aemond was perfectly trimmed, as expected of someone of his status. He wanted to look flawless always, it didn't matter if it was hair, clothing, or body hair.

Aemond approached the table, pulling you back by your hips. His hands on your skin sent yet another shiver down your spine. The head of his hard cock was pressed directly against your entrance, but he did not push himself in. Oh gods, how he wanted to do that, screaming at himself internally for pausing, but he was a prideful man. “I won't fuck you. Not until you tell lord Tyland that the behavior of yours earlier didn't serve to charm him, not truly. Tell him you behaved this way because you wanted your husband to snap and finally punish your slutty body. Tell him the only man you have your eyes for is your lord husband.” He spanked your ass, causing you to jump a little. It hurt, but it felt somewhat refreshing, doing nothing to extinguish the fire burning inside of you.

“Aemond,” you whined, needily, perhaps even pathetically. But your body yearned for him. You desperately needed his cock inside of you, even if it meant letting go of your pride. Aemond spanked you again, his hand leaving marks on your ass cheek. You looked up at Tyland, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Aemond urged you, grinding against you, teasing you with the promise of penetration, and you could not resist. He bedded you only once before to consummate the marriage, it was nothing special then but you were sure how he would bring you an orgasm of your life.

“Lord Tyland, I apologize for my earlier behavior. All I did was attempt to provoke my lord husband into giving me attention. I have no genuine interest in your affections nor would I ever welcome them. It was simply a game to make Aem- Prince Regent jealous. My eyes are only for him,” you muttered. It was truly hard to speak clearly when your body was trembling with anticipation. Tyland did look disappointed, but he could have seen this coming. He nodded slowly, afraid of saying the wrong thing and enraging Aemond. Aemond leaned forward, putting some of his weight on you.

“And now I want you to beg. Beg like the little wanton slut that you are. Show me how much you need me inside this dripping cunny and maybe I will consider fucking it,” Aemond whispered, but loudly even for the men to hear. His hand landed on your ass cheek once again. Now you knew, it was a revenge for his earlier humiliation. You didn't care that he was humiliating you now, making you beg for something as simple as this. You wanted and needed him, and shame would not stop you.

“Please, Aemond. I need you inside of me. I need you to claim me in front of them. I want to feel yours. Please, my lord husband, I need your cock. Let us be done with the games, I want to be owned by you,” you begged and pleaded, trying to get on his possessive side. If not for your earlier taunts Aemond would have tortured you for longer, but his cock was aching to be inside of you. He pushed his cock in, forcing himself to do it slowly. You were not a virgin anymore but Aemond's cock was still quite a challenge. He needed to stretch you out a little before giving into the fire burning inside of him completely. You bit your lip, the stretch bordering on painful, but you were determined to take it, you craved it. You needed Aemond as much as he needed you. Two flames cursed… or maybe blessed? To burn together. You were not scared of fire, as long as you would burn with him.

“You feel so good, ābrazȳrys. Your cunt is so tight… relax,” he cooed before spanking you harshly. You jumped, eyes wide. It stung even more than the previous ones. “This pussy feels like heaven, that's the only way for me; a sinner to get a taste of it, no?” Each trust served to claim your body completely. Aemond wanted to own you, not only in a sense of marriage. He wanted to own your body, your soul, your mind, your entire being. He wanted to melt into you and become one. His need for you ran deep. You moaned, relishing in the way his cock was sliding in and out of you, the previous discomfort disappeared. Aemond pulled your hair, enjoying how your back arched, forcing you to look at Tyland. His slow thrusts quickly turned into faster, more brutal ones. Men were not happy about this display. All except for Larys, who seemed intrigued. The obscene squelching sounds filled up the room, making your cheeks blush.

“That feels great. Please don't stop, Aemond please,” you mewled and whimpered, slowly losing it with his cock hitting every right spot. Aemond closed his eye, the way you moaned his name… it was perfect. Your pussy was incredibly wet for him, definitely wetter than the previous time. Aemond smirked, he liked the way the lords watched him claim you, he liked how eagerly your body responded. You were his. Completely and utterly. And it was just proof of it.

“It can't all be pleasure and no pain. You deserve a punishment, don't you, riñītsos? Count to fifty, princess,” he spanked you particularly brutally, leaving a red mark of his hand on your ass cheek. It burned and tingled in the best way. Aemond did not stop his punishing pace, fucking the shit out of you. “I can't hear you?” He taunted, his other hand moving to your clit, rubbing circles against it. Your eyes rolled back, it was a lot. Lords were outraged, but what could they do? They didn't dare to question Prince Regent.

“One,” you tried to control your voice, “two… ten…” Each spank hurt more than the previous one, but each of them was bringing you closer to the edge. Aemond was not merciful about this. Every time you said the wrong number or couldn't say a thing because of your moans you would start over again and again. Your ass cheeks were red, but the pain was a whisper among the screams of pleasure. “Fifty,” you breathed out, relieved that finally you managed to get through all of them with no mistakes. Aemond caressed your skin tenderly. You found yourself moving your hips back against his thrusts.

“Good job, riñītsos. I'm proud. You took it so well. So beautifully and utterly devoted,” he cooed, his gentle voice a contrast to his rough moves. His fingers toying with your clit with precision, he knew what to touch and when to drive you crazy. “Now you need to cum on my cock like a good little wife. Show everyone how much you love my cock,” he urged, pulling your hair. You bit your lip hard, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any moment now. You were dancing on the very edge of your climax, and Aemond was the one leading. “I'm going to breed this little cunt so every single day you and others have a reminder that you are mine. I will put a beautiful Targaryen babe here, little dragon. And you will take it like a good slut, I know you crave it” his words mixed with a particularly deep thrust made the coil snap. Your walls fluttered around his cock, your body shook as the wave of pleasure washed over you. Drowning you in the intense orgasm. Aemond chuckled as he kept fucking you through your high. But he did not last any longer than you did. The way your walls deliciously tightened when you orgasmed got him good. “Fuck. Yes. That's it, whore. That's it, good girl. Such a tight pussy. All mine, mine to breed, mine to fuck, mine to cherish,” Aemond held your hips tightly, his balls tightened before he emptied himself inside of you, painting your walls white, groaning. He remained inside your pussy, enjoying the warmth.

“That was intense,” you muttered. Your ass stung like hell and you became aware that you in fact let Aemond fuck you in front of the small council. You could only thank the gods that at least his mother or his brother weren't there. Aemond pulled out of you with a wet pop. He would stay inside you if he could, but he needed to let those poor men go. He gestured to the servants to bring you something to cover yourself with.

“I expect you to behave from now on,” he gave your ass yet another spank. You whined, your flesh already burned and he still chose to torture you even more. Aemond watched his seed leaking out of you with perverse fascination. He gathered the cum and pushed it back into you. You just moaned weakly, there was something so fucking hot about him doing that. “Another proof we do it better than the pretender. Our heirs will be actually trueborn,” Aemond covered you with the robes the servant brought, he himself remained naked. It was a change for him, he was always insecure about his body mostly because of what he endured in the past. He picked you up gently, being considerate of your bruised ass and turned to the men.“You’re dismissed,” he told them before leaving. Aemond carried you to his bedchamber, holding you tightly as if you would disappear if he didn't. He placed you on the bed before stepping back.

“They will never forget it I fear,” you pulled him back down on the bed, tracing his scar softly, and he let you, making himself comfortable next to you. He chuckled, Aemond did not care. You loved his laugh, but he didn't laugh often if at all.

“They will live. But never fucking do that again,” he brushed your hair out of your face. He didn't even want to think of men taking what’s his. “You’re mine,” he whispered, pulling you to his chest. Maybe that night changed a lot for you in the marriage. It surely did for him. He was learning to open, to let himself be vulnerable around you. And you were so grateful for it.

[myladysapphire]

The spoils of war

Being a woman on the loosing side of a war was never a good thing. And when you are the only daughter of the looser it can mean one of two things, either death or marriage, and for lucky for y/n, Aegon was in need of a wife.

word count: 2,665

CW: MDI 18+, incest, angst, smut, forced marriage, unrequited love, jelousy. p in v, fingering, loss of virginity, oral (f reciving), no happy ending

Fem!reader x Aegon ii Targeryen and past fem!reader x Aemond Targereyn

a/n Aegon isn't a r*pist in this fic

Masterlist

Being a woman on the losing side of a war was never a good thing. Death always followed war, but so did marriage. and Marriage was what you now found yourself facing. Though you had begged for death, the greens deemed it fit for Rhaneyras only daughter to marry Aego.

as a means to oppress the remaining black loyalists.

With Heleana having taken her own life after the detah of both her sons, Jaeherys and Maelor. Aegon found himself without a wife. 

And with only a daughter to succeed him, the small council feared another dance should Jaeheara be heir, so they agreed a marriage between you and Aegon would suit the realm.

Though you disagreed, you had been a prisoner in the red keep for longer than you can remember. Having been dragged to the keep by Aemond after Luke's death. Aemond would visit often. You wewre forced to listen and watch as Aegon ruled, as they ridiculed your mothers everymove. You would hear about the death of each of your family through gaurds taunts.

You had seen freedom for half a year when your mother finally achieved her birthright. Had met Cregan, the man who you was supposed to marry. 

And then you heard of Aemonds death. Daemon had killed him and died himself. You and he had once considered yourself inlove. Even planned to run away and marry. But after what he did to Luke, those feelings changed and the love and longing turned to hate and anger. And with his detah came relief. She felt one step closer to her mother being safe on the throne. 

And then Aegon returned and killed your mother. Burned her alive.

You had witnessed it all, as guards held you back.

Then two weeks later your own grandsire, Coryls Veleryon, came and told you of the plans, the plans he agreed with and even proposed. 

He was the only visitor she had had. She had no Aemond to visit her, to eat with ehr even if all she did was spit angry words in his direction.

Then today, after over a moon, you were dragged from your bed and forced before Aegon in the throne room.Your mothers burnt body laid in front of you, wrapped in sheets as if to hide what Aegon had done to her. and your youngest brother, Aegon the younger, in chains.

The green council tood and told you what they demanded, Crolys the main voice among them. It was clear you had no choice but to accept their demands. marry Aegon and become queen, her brother's life will be spared and warded in Oldtown until he was four and ten. If she refused, he would become just like thre dead mother. A burnt body. And she would be dragged down the aisle anyway.

she needed her brother Aegon, he was the only family she had left and it killed her that he would grow up in the hands of the greens, but then again so would her children. The heirs the small council had demanded they have, if not Aegons life would be forfeit. 

The small council had left, leaving her and Aegon alone, bar the few guards that remained. 

Aegon called your name, he seemed nervous, tired even.

He wore the conqueror's crown, it suited him, though it was not his. But it was clear that the weight of it was more than the weight of the rubys. A weight Aegon ahd once told her he feared. 

He coughed, bringing you back from your thoughts. “Your grandsire informed me that he told you of our plans over a moon ago”

You nodded.

“I know this is not what you wanted… that i am not who you wanted, or even - or even the brother you wanted-” he stood up and made his way towards her “but this is for the good of the realm”

You scoffed “of course it is Aegon, no one wants another war.”  Everyone knew why you were marrying, it was to be a front of the greens and blacks uniting, of her bending the knee. “I am the spoils of war, Aegon. And when it comes to victory the victor always keeps his prize. And I am your prize Aegon. Not that i had a choice” you tunrened to leave, done with this, you had time. Time to get a letter to Cregan. Some servants were still loyal, surely?

Aegon once again called your name “we wed on the morrow”

Then again, the greens were smart enough to win a war, of course they were smart enogh to marry her fast. 

Aegon had alwasy hoped to wed her. And he had hope for this marriage, but not hope for a happy marriage. though he had once hoped to wed her instead of Helaena, and now he was forcing her to marry him. But he did hope it’ll end the war. Hoped that Cregan Stark would stop his attacks and surrender, submit to him and not launch the realm into another war.  they had lost too much as it was.

Aegon felt sorry for her. He felt alone but she truley was. Her only family would soon be torn from her and she would be stuck with them, and married to him. 

It had never been him for her, though it had always been her for him. from doing everything to gain her attention, bullying Aemond so she would see him as the better brother, from begging his mother and even his father to marry her and not Helaena. From bedding whores who were her doubles. 

But for you it has always been Aemond, always been him even when he killed your brother, Aemond still spoke as if you two were soon to wed and that you and him were utterly in love. He  had never got your attention, not the way Aemond had.

He called your name again, you were numb, eyes and face void of any emotion. “did you hear me?!” he asked more sternly.

you nodded your head, looking down. “ I understand Aegon.” you said his name so sweetly and yet it was filled with such hate. you had yet to call him King, had yet to fully bend the knee to him.

he sighed “you will have to bend the knee to me before and the lords of the realm… they have all been summoned for the wedding. where we shall pledge our souls together and you shall pledge your allegiance.”

you gritted your teeth, you had never been stubborn, always a people pleaser, but when it came to this you were being… difficult.

he sighed, going to speak again before you snapped your head up. He was close, close enough to reach out and take her hands in his. To hold her close. To-

“Fine! But you must swear to me Aegon.. That my brother will be safe. I - i do not want him in oldtown, send him somewhere anywhere but there. I will only bend the knee if he is safe, and i will make sure he does aswell, and that he sticks to it, if you swear he will not be killed!”

“Of course, i- he is my nephew, and as it stands my heir- it is in the crowns best interest to protect him. Doing otherwise would-”

“Risk war” she finished for him. “I make no promises for the marriage, but is shall do my duty.”

It hurts, duty. Their marriage, the marriage he had hjoped for being just a duty. Being a consolation prize for winning a war his mother and grandsire planned and plotted his whole life. And her turning around and storming through the door straight away hurt even more.

She had been given a dress. It was ivory and It was…beautiful. 

She had expected green. Something obvious. To get the greens point across. But she supposed the wedding got it across enough.

The wedding was packed, lords and ladies from all over westros, lords and ladies from both the blacks and the greens.

Her grandsire walked her down the Asile. 

Aegon stood up there, in ivory, with matching patterns to her gown. He smiled at her. He looked happy as if he had waited for this day. As if she and him were lovers finally getting there wedding day.

The ceremony was fast, a copy and paste of the dozens of weddings she had attend

They had stood before each other, in the eys of the realm and the gods. There hands joined togther, eyes locked. It was intense and fast. Then she was maade to kneel before him, and as she knelt he placed a crown on her hesd, naming her his queen consort.

There was relief throughout the kingdom the night. There wedding celebration turning into toasts and dances of peace. 

And before she knew it, it was time for the bedding ceremony.

She was nervous. She knew it would hurt somewhat. Her mother had always had told her. And told her all she would need to know. Ahd reassured her that on her wedding day she would be there, smiling and dancing as she married her love. And yet her mother was dead. Her brothers dead. Rhanea and Beala were at driftamark, univinted as if them coming would prevent the wedding from happnning. And she was not marrying her love, she was marrying her duty. Marrying for peace. And yet when Aegon looked into her eyes as they stood for the bedding ceremony she flet at peace, calm, as if eveything was snapping into place.

He took her hand in his and kissed it, before moving to step down and leave.

Aegon had ordered for no escorts top there chambers, no servants or maids. It was just them. 

And for the first time in who knows how long she felt like she could breath. 

Aegon looked towards you, cupping your face with his hands, caressing your cheeks. he was nervou, his eyes gave that away. “i’m sorry if this is not the wedding you wanted, or the husband, but i want you to know that you are the wife i have always wanted. i understand why you could never love me back. i have done terrible things to your family and i-“

“not tonight Aegon” you begged, “for tonight let us be husband and wife, tommorow you can be King Aegon, the Aegon who did all of those things, but tonight we forget. you will make me forget” you begged.

Aegon responsed ,not with words but by surging forward with a kiss. Unlike the one in the sept, were it was quick chaste. this was filled with passion, filled with Aegons love for you. There  mouths moulded together, his tounge teasing your  lip until you finally got the hint and opens for him. she was inexperienced, it was obvious, but you caught on quick. even quicker when his kisses started trailing from your mouth, to your  jaw and then to your  neck, moving further down until they reached your shoulders. he looked up then, his hand moving to the back of your dress, reaching for the corset. reaching for his laces he gave a soft kiss to your  shoulder, before removing the laces to her gown., your dress slowly dropped to the floor, pooling around your ankles. leaving your in your shear underclothes.

“gods”Aegon moaned, before diving back down to kiss your neck and working his way back up to your mouth. you moved your ah do to his shoulders, relaxing more into the kisses, allowing yourself to bask in the pleasure.

Aegon moved down one more, this time he didn’t stop at your shoulder, but moved down your your breast. taking your nipple into his mouth, and moaning at the taste. you yourself moaned in pleasure, you had done some stuff with Aemond, mainly kissing, some touching, even had his head between your thighs. but tonight felt differ t, it was not a differ t lind of pleasure, but a feeling. with Ameond it was forbidden, but with Aegon, he was your husband and deep down it felt right.

moving away from your breasts aemond pressed another kiss to your lips, before taking a step back. you watched as he did, removing his jacket and then his tunic, leaving him topless before you. he was not toned or leaned as Aemond was, but a bit chubby. And yet she found even hotter than the toned body you  had once knew so well.

Aegon continued stepping back, but not before taking your hand in his and pulling you with him, towards the bed.

He turned you around, allowing your back of your beds to hit the bed. sitting in the bed Aegon thought you a vision, even more so whn you shyly reached  for your small clothes and pulled them off over your head. you were perfect.

he moaned at the sight, before reaching down and pressing his mouth to yours, his hands reaching down to caress your body, the feeling filled with care.

“Aegon?” you spoke up, causing Aegon to lean back and stop.

“what? are you ok?” he asked

you nodded, reaching forward to his breeches, searching for the laces. Aegon let out a laugh, before moving back to take them off. “better?” he asked. you nodded.

he leant down and gave you a kiss before getting in his knees and spreading your legs. he looked up at you a gleam o his eyes, before moving forward, and devouring you. his tounge circling your clit. his hands moved up your legs, leaving goosebumps in there wake. his fingers moved up towards your heat, his fingers teasing your opening. slowly he entered his finger, gods you were right, unexplored. 

pumping in and out of you, you let out moans of pleasure, your peak etching closer and closer, before taking you over whole.

Aegon moved back, wiping his face in the bed sheets, before standing up. 

you looked at him, dazed.

“we don’t have to go any further-“ you interrupted him.

“i want too” you spoke, almost begging.

he nodded, moving you back, further into the bed. 

Moving between your thighs, he pushed in slowly and carefully. 

you felt so full, uncomfortable, before it turned quickly into pleasure. Aegon moved slowly, pumping you full, his body pressed against yours, kissing you deeply. before moving faster, harder. moans filled the room, the pleasure over taking them you both as you once again reached your peak, and Aegon let go, filling you with his seed.

Aegon collapsed further into you, both your breath heavy.

“gods” you sighed. and Aegon nodded in agreement.

As the years passed since your wedding to Aegon. 

you knew you would never forgive him for what he had down, never love him, not like he loved you. 

but you were civil, appeasing. paining the picture of the perfect wife. And Wegon grew more in love.

but deep down you knew that you would never love him, or forgive him, and some part of you would always long for Cregan or mother black loyalist to rise up and name your brother king.

But as you grew older, and had five children, all the image of Aegon, that that day would never come. not as your children grew older. As Jaheara and Aegon wed, and had children of there own. 

And when aegon died at the age of 56, from a summer fever, believing you had forgiven him and loved him, you realised that the greens had won. Even as you watched your son be crowned king, and his son after him.

You never got your happy ending, but the history books would right that you did. That all along you were a green. Switching form one brother to the other.

when in reality you still felt alone, and though you died surrounded by your grandchildren and great grandchildren, you died feeling alone, still feeling like the spoils of war.

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

@taragryenmoony @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

to be added to taglist

[watersofmars]

ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ…

(Aegon Targaryen x OC!Reader x Aemond Targaryen). Torn between love and duty, Visenya Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, has a choice to make. Bound by the loyalty to her mother, her love for her husband Aegon, or the desire she feels for her uncle Aemond...

(A/N): This is my first Hotd fic so please bare with me lol... I also changed some of the canon story slightly, but its mostly in timeline.

WC: 2.9k

In the heart of Dragonstone, beneath the shadow of the ancient castle, the air was thick with whispered secrets and unspoken desires. The ocean bristled like a dragon's breath against the cliffs, roaring its eternal song, while inside the castle's stone walls, tensions of love and duty collided like fierce combatants upon a battlefield.

Born of two fiery souls—Rhaenyra and Daemon—Visenya was a product of ambition and dark passion. Her mother had once grasped for the Iron Throne while her father fought like a dragon to claim his birthright. Now married to Aegon, the younger half-brother of Rhaenyra, Visenya was both a queen consort and a pawn in the ancient game of thrones that twisted all destinies in Westeros.

Visenya sat in the sunlit chamber where she had spent countless hours nurturing the seeds of her family. Her marriage to Aegon had sparked hope for peace. The union represented a fragile balance between factions, a flowering of loyalty amidst the ashes of war—the Dance of the Dragons, as history would one day name it. In the months following their union, Visenya had found solace in Aegon’s gentle affection. Her husband, Aegon Targaryen, was handsome as he was gentle, and their three children; Aerion, Daenys, and Rhaegar, were a living testament to their union. 

The corners of her lips would turn upward when they called out for her, a joy that sparked within her from their mere presence. Still, there lay something untamed and restless within her, a longing that cast a shadow upon her heart like the wings of a dragon. Yet, as much as her heart had sought refuge in Aegon’s steadfast presence, it remained restless. For in the shadows of their shared chambers roamed Aemond Targaryen, the younger brother of Aegon and a tempest of unbridled passion. Aemond, with his sapphire eye that glimmered like a dragon’s flame, drew Visenya to him with an intensity that overshadowed her more subdued affection for Aegon. There was something primal about their connection, an undeniable pull that threatened to shatter the fragile peace she had constructed around her heart

Aegon had won her heart first, as young hearts often do, swept away in the fervor of courtship and familial duty. They had shared a betrothal grounded in tradition, as their family’s legacy demanded, by order of the late King Viserys in hopes of mending this broken family. Loyal and kind, he had been a constant source of warmth, a beacon of security amidst the chaos that lingered at the edges of their world, on the edge of a bloody war. Together, they forged a love that should have been flawless, yet beneath the surface, tides churned dangerously.

It was Aemond, Aegon's younger brother, who filled Visenya's dreams with passion and despair. His dark, brooding presence was intoxicating, a force of nature that unnerved and exhilarated her all at once. Their bond was close since childhood, where Visenya was often Aemond’s only source of comfort. But he was a dragon in his own right, wild and untamed, unburdened by the weight of responsibility that Aegon often bore. When their eyes met across a crowded hall or during the muted hours of the night, an unbidden fire ignited within her, and she felt the pull of a forbidden fruit she could never quite resist.

One fateful evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, laying hues of crimson and gold across the sky, Visenya found herself wandering into the garden—a refuge where the laughter of her children mingled with the scent of blooming roses. It was there that Aemond often sought solitude, brooding beneath the heavy branches of the ancient tree in the Godswood. The air was thick with anticipation, the moment charged with unvoiced words.

“Aemond,” she whispered, approaching the shadowy figure cloaked in darkness. “You should not be here. It isn’t fitting for us.”

His gaze, fierce and steady, locked onto her. “Fitting or not, sister, it does not change how I feel,” he replied, drawing closer, his words a tantalizing promise.

“Do you ever wonder what might have been?” Aemond softly spoke in the shadows, his voice low and conspiratorial. “If the blood of our house did not bind us, what would we be to each other?”

Visenya’s heart raced at the question. She had long grappled with this truth: was it Aegon’s love she cherished, or was it Aemond’s wild spirit that called to her, igniting a fire that threatened to consume her whole? When she looked into Aemond’s depths, she saw a future of unfettered desire, while Aegon’s steady presence offered comfort and stability. 

“But to carry the sins of desire is to bear a heavy burden,” she murmured, her voice like the rustle of leaves in the wind. “If the truth of our hearts were ever revealed, what then?”

Aemond stepped closer, his breath warm against her skin. “Do not fear the chaos of love, Visenya. We are Targaryens; chaos is our birthright.”

In that moment, their lips met—a union forged of hidden desires and dangerous secrets. In that sacred space, amidst the hidden life of the garden, time weaved itself into a tapestry of stolen moments. Visenya’s heart raced as Aemond took her hands in his, the warmth of his touch igniting embers hidden deep within her soul. They spoke of their dreams, their fears, the weight of their lineage, and the bittersweet bonds of family ties that pulled them in opposite directions.

Visenya was aflame with passion, yet guilt gnawed at her, whispering memories of her children, the purity of their innocence. She recalled Aerion's laughter and Daenys's dreams, and Rhaegar's fierce loyalty. Visenya's thoughts turned to her children, to the simple joy they brought her, and the duty she held to Aegon, who remained blissfully unaware of the tempest brewing within his wife’s heart. The gnarled roots of her love for Aegon intertwined with the fervour she felt for Aemond, a duality both beautiful and torturous. Each time she laughed with her children, each time she looked into Aegon’s earnest eyes, the weight of her choices bore down.

When her children had been born, rumours had already sparked in the desperate halls of the Red Keep and at court. As autumn leaves began to fall, rumours swirled within the court, each speculation carrying the weight of uncertainty. Whispers drifted like smoke between courtiers: were Aegon’s children truly his, or was there more to Visenya’s love than met the eye? The truth remained hidden, an enigma cloaked in Targaryen secrecy.

As seasons waned into years, the children grew, each embodying different facets of their lineage. Aerion, with the spirited bravery of a dragon, beloved by all; Daenys, who carried an ethereal grace that warmed hearts, often resembling her namesake, Daenys the dreamer; and Rhaegar, whose brooding intensity mirrored that of his Uncle Aemond. The question of paternity began to murmur through the corridors of Dragonstone, insidious as wind-wrought flames, though none could be sure. At least Visenya’s children bore the silver Targaryen hair that seemed to fail in her brothers. Whispers tainted her children’s innocence, and every shared glance between Visenya and Aemond seemed to ignite suspicion in the minds of their kin.

As the truth hovered like a specter, looming over the Targaryen family, Visenya stood at a precipice. Would she give in to her longing, embracing a passion that pulsed as fiercely as dragonfire? Or would she bind herself tightly to duty, choosing the path carved out by blood and obligation?

Visenya stood before a new dawn, knowing she must confront the echoes of her choices. Whether she chose to remain tied to Aegon for the sake of their family or succumb to the intoxicating pull of Aemond’s allure remained unanswered. She sought her mother’s endurance and her father’s unbridled will, but it was her own heart—a heart torn between love and loyalty—that would ultimately shape her fate.

In a moment of desperate clarity, Visenya understood that love was never meant to be simple. Each heart she held belonged to the tapestry of her life, entwined in ways that were as complex as the spirals of dragonfire. And as her children grew, so too did the weight of her choices, an unbreakable knot she must learn to navigate, balancing love and treachery, loyalty and longing.

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

In the growing darkness of the evening, Visenya stood by the window, her long, silver-gold hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of moonlight. She gazed out over Blackwater Bay, the waves crashing like the thoughts inside her mind. Her husband, Aegon, approached with a gentle smile, though the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air.

“Visenya,” Aegon said, his voice soft, “what troubles you this evening?” 

She turned to him, her heart swelling with love for the man who was both her husband and a symbol of duty. “Naught but the uncertainty of the morrow, my dear Aegon. The realm feels restless. I fear storms are brewing, but not of the kind we prepare for,” she replied, feigning a smile. 

Unbeknownst to Aegon, Visenya felt her heart pulse hotly for his younger brother, Aemond. Aemond, with his fiery spirit and sharp wit, ignited a flame in her that she could not extinguish. Though she loved Aegon fiercely, it was Aemond who stirred her soul in ways she was hesitant to admit.

Just as she suffocated under the weight of her thoughts, the door swung open, and Aemond strode in, his sapphire eye glinting with mischief. “Our dear brother broods while the world turns, as always,” he remarked, casting a quick glance at Aegon before fixing his gaze on Visenya. “Shall we not partake in the joy of life while we can, my sweet sister-in-law?”

“Always the jester,” Aegon replied, though his smile was strained. “What joy can be found in revelry when the realm readies itself for war?”

“War, duty, duty, war,” Aemond mocked lightly. “You sound like our mother, brother.” There was a lingering tension in the air that Visenya felt too keenly.

“Stop this, Aemond,” Visenya interjected, speaking in High Valyrian, which Aegon didn’t entirely understand, looking to temper the air between the two brothers. “We should not jest of such things. We have each other; we have our children.”

Aegon nodded, the weight of concern still visible on his brow, while Aemond’s expression shifted to one that danced on the edge of something more dangerous. “And what will become of them?” Aemond’s voice dropped, a hint of something darker lurking beneath. “Are we to allow a sea of disputes to wash away their future?”

Visenya bristled at the thought. Her children needed a world of promise, not shackled by the chains of the past. Yet the more Aemond spoke, the more her heart wavered between affection for her husband and the forbidden pull towards the younger brother, whose ambitions were vast and whose eyes shone with desire. 

Weeks passed where words remained unspoken, but a certain tension was brewing in the Red Keep, there would be fire and blood, but the war within Visenya Targaryen still raged on.

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

In the candlelit chambers of Aegon and Visenya, the air was thick with both warmth and tension. Visenya Targaryen sat at her vanity, the reflection of her silver hair bouncing off the polished surface. A soft knock interrupted her contemplation.

“Aegon,” she called, turning to fully face her husband, Aegon II, who stepped into the room. His presence filled the space with an uneasy mix of familiarity and distance.

“My love,” Aegon began, his voice a gentle rumble. “I’ve been thinking—”

“Thinking?” Visenya echoed, arching a brow. “You have a talent for that.” She offered a teasing smile, though her heart was heavy.

“Visenya, I wish to discuss… us.” He paused, searching her gaze for something he couldn’t quite define. “You hold the realms in your heart, but I…”

“Is it my love for our children that frightens you?” she interjected, the warmth in her voice slowly fading.

“No, no. It’s Aemond.” 

Visenya’s breath caught. Aemond—his younger brother—was both a flame that flickered dangerously close and a comfort that beckoned like an undertow. “What of Aemond?” she asked, trying to mask the tremor in her voice.

“He has grown reckless.” Aegon’s irritation surfaced. “He challenges authority as easily as he commands Vhagar. I fear—”

“Fear what? That he will dethrone you?” Visenya leaned forward, her emerald eyes piercing through the dim light. “You rule as king of Westeros, and he bears no crown.”

Aegon stepped closer, his brow knitting in concern. “Yet, in his heart lies the blood of the dragon—a flame that may consume what we hold dear. Our family is at stake, Visenya; our children… they deserve stability.”

“They deserve love,” she replied, her expression hardening. “Not just the kind you give, but the kind that includes passion.” The confession hung in the air like an unspoken vow, opening a chasm between them.

Aegon stiffened. “You love him, then?”

Visenya’s gaze fell to the floor. “Love is a flame, Aegon. It can warm the spirit or burn down all that you hold dear.”

Time passed slowly within Dragonstone as familial ties began to unravel. Aegon’s jealousy morphed into a simmering resentment, while intrigue danced around Visenya’s heart like a delicate waltz. 

Meanwhile, Aemond Targaryen, an embodiment of youthful ambition, found solace in the open skies, where his dragon, Vhagar, soared. He had always admired Visenya’s caring nature and what she brought to the family. Their secret meetings kindled something deep and forbidden, and as days turned into weeks, their connection intertwined with destiny.

Days turned into weeks, and then into months, shadows gathering around the Targaryens as they prepared for the inevitable clash between Rhaenyra's supporters and the impending forces that rose against her claim. Then came a day that would change…

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

The sun crested the horizon, shrouded in a soft blushing hue, contrasting the stormy clouds that loomed ominously nearby. Aemond rode Vhagar, chasing shadows and draconic dreams, unaware of the imminent collision path with tragedy.

“Lucerys!” Visenya’s brother, Lucerys Velaryon, tore through the skies riding his dragon, Arrax, defiance resonating through every flap of his wings. He was young, fierce, and willing to protect his mother’s legacy.

They met mid-air, the whispers of the firmament charged with the feud brewing below. 

“What brings a Velaryon to confront a Targaryen?” Aemond bellowed, a fierce grin etched across his face. The thrill of battle had summoned him; perhaps Fate would grant him the victory he craved.

“I will not yield to you or your brother, I stand here in honour of the Queen, Rhaenyra!” Lucerys shouted back. Behind him, the storm swelled, becoming a tempest to mirror their raging emotions.

“I have been waiting for this for a long time, my dear strong nephew.” Aemond spoke with his teasing nature, his eyepatch now removed with his sapphire eye shining in the moonlight of Storms End.

The two young dragons immediately headed for their fierce beasts, Vhagar and Arrax. With a fierce roar, Vhagar took flight, challenging Arrax with a display of power. Fire spewed forth as the dragons collided, the sky igniting around them.

“Enough Nephew!” Aemond cried out in their mother tongue, but exhilaration coursed through him and the storm clouds raged amongst him, losing sight of Luke for that moment. Cloud and fire danced in chaotic beauty as dragons unleashed their fury upon one another.

Lucerys, desperate, urged Arrax higher, staying vigilantly aware of his surroundings. “This is between us, Aemond! Fight like a man, not a beast!”

“A man?” Aemond mocked, fire swirling beneath him. “I choose the beast. Will you embrace your fate?”

The moment hung in the air, heavy with unfulfilled promises, desires unvoiced, and a storm of blood in the making. Suddenly, Aemond lunged forward, Vhagar's jaws seeking victory. Arrax couldn't evade; flames engulfed the sky, and with a chilling cry, Lucerys plummeted, joining the chaos below.

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

Upon hearing the news of her sweet, young brother’s death, Visenya’s world shattered. She could not escape the curtain call of sorrow nor the memories shared—the teasing laughter around a hearth now replaced with the chilling howl of anguish.

“Aemond, how could you?” she cried, her heart torn between love and despair as she confronted him.

He stood before her, fury and regret clashing within his gaze. “I did not seek this! The bloodlust of dragons consumed all”—his hands balled into fists—“he attacked me. You must understand.”

“I don’t wish to understand!” she shot back, tears trailing down her cheeks. “You have taken my brother. Do you know what you’ve ignited?”

“I have ignited nothing but truth, Visenya!” Aemond retorted, the air crackling between them. “We are Targaryens; we are destined for fire and blood!”

“Fire and blood,” she repeated, a bitter taste rising to her tongue. “You didn’t even see the flames consume his soul. Will it be my children next? I cannot let this continue.”

“Inaction will be their doom, just as Lucerys’s defiance led to his downfall.” Aemond stepped closer, anguish straining against the mask of confidence he wore.

Visenya turned away, lost within the storm surging in her heart. Death birthed a cycle; she would either embrace it or be consumed by it.

As she stood at the precipice of war, Visenya felt the first stirrings of the Dance of Dragons begin, a catastrophe whose burning embers loomed ominously above, threatening to set her world ablaze. 

What was once filled with love now echoed with battle cries, and the dance had begun, fueled by loyalty, passion, and heartache—a cycle that would devour them all.

(A/N) Let me know if I should do a part 2.

[hisfavegirl]

HOTD Characters Reaction First Time They Saw You Walking On Victoria Secret Fashion Show.

Pairing : Aegon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon.

Thanks To @zaldritzosrose For Letting Me Use Your Beautiful Dividers.

Aegon.

Aegon had seen beautiful women before. He’d had his fair share of late nights, stolen glances, and flirty encounters. But this? This was something else entirely.

The second you stepped onto the Victoria’s Secret runway, the air shifted.

The lights hit you just right, illuminating every curve, every confident stride, every teasing flick of your hair. The delicate lingerie hugged your body like it had been made for you, and the towering wings on your back made you look almost ethereal—like something not of this world.

Aegon sat frozen in his seat, drink halfway to his lips, his usual cocky smirk completely wiped off his face.

What the fuck.

He had expected to see hot models walk the runway tonight. He had not expected to have his entire existence rocked by you.

The way you moved? Playful. Untouchable. A woman who knew exactly how powerful she was.

And then—you did it.

Right at the end of the runway, you looked straight at him.

Not at the cameras. Not at the crowd. At him.

Your lips curled into the slightest, most dangerous smirk, like you could see right through him, see the way his brain was short-circuiting. And then, as if to ruin him completely, you gave him the smallest wink before turning and walking away.

Aegon exhaled sharply, slumping back into his seat. His chest was tight. His pulse was racing. His grip on his drink was white-knuckled.

Jace, sitting next to him, nudged his shoulder. “You good?”

Aegon blinked, still staring at the spot where you had just been. “No,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, “I think I just saw my future wife.”

Aemond.

Aemond had always been composed. Always controlled. He prided himself on it.

But the moment you stepped onto the Victoria’s Secret runway, he felt his grip on that control slip.

The lights bathed you in gold, casting an almost celestial glow around your figure. The delicate lingerie, the towering wings, the effortless confidence in your stride—it was unreal. You weren’t just walking. You were commanding the room, owning every set of eyes that followed you.

Including his.

Aemond sat up straighter, jaw clenched, his singular gaze locked onto you. His drink sat forgotten in his hand. The usual background noise—the bass-heavy music, the murmured conversations—faded into nothing.

And then—you looked at him.

It was brief, calculated. A sharp flick of your eyes in his direction, just enough to let him know you saw him watching. The corner of your mouth curled, teasing. And then, as if to truly unravel him, you dragged your fingers through your hair, flipping it over your shoulder before turning away.

Aemond’s fingers tightened around the glass in his hand, his jaw clenching so hard it ached.

Fuck.

He had never cared for these events. He found them trivial, just another display of vanity. But now? Now he was sitting there, feeling possessive over a woman he didn’t even know.

Jace, seated beside him, let out a low whistle. “Damn. She’s something, huh?”

Aemond exhaled through his nose, forcing his features into neutrality, but the burn in his chest remained. His fingers tapped against the table, the only sign of his restless energy.

“She’s mine.” The words left his mouth before he even realized he’d spoken them.

Jace raised a brow. “Yeah? I don’t think she got the memo.”

Aemond’s eye never left you as you disappeared behind the curtains.

She will.

Jacaerys.

Jace had never been speechless before.

He was charming, always ready with a grin, always quick with a smooth remark. But the moment you stepped onto that runway, he forgot how to breathe.

The lights hit you just right, your skin glowing under their warmth. The delicate lace, the towering wings, the sheer confidence in the way you walked—you were a vision.

His lips parted slightly, his drink halting halfway to his mouth as his eyes tracked your every move. The music, the chatter around him, the cameras flashing—it all faded into a distant blur.

You weren’t just beautiful. You were unreal.

And then—you looked at him.

A deliberate glance, fleeting but powerful, like a spark catching fire. And then, with an almost mischievous glint in your eyes, you smirked.

Jace’s heart slammed against his ribs.

“Whoa.” He exhaled the word like he’d just been knocked out.

Beside him, Luke snorted. “You good?”

Jace blinked, snapping back to reality, but his pulse was still racing. He let out a low, stunned laugh, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I think I just fell in love.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “You don’t even know her.”

Jace leaned forward, his gaze locked on the spot where you had just disappeared behind the curtain. A slow, determined grin curled on his lips.

“Not yet.”

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

[winnysplayground]

“i can fix her, i can fix him, i can fix them”

i think we need to work on you first.

[hauntedfictionland]

❝His dear princess❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem! Reader!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jacaerys did not want you, or the vow he was bound to for life. Yet when he makes a big mistake, and potentially loses you for good. He realises just how much you meant to him.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bastardphobia, mentions of death and grief, kissing, marrage of convenience and grumpy X sunshine trope, Jace is down bad, flirty!reader, guilt and anxiety and happy ending;)

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This is one of my first house of the dragon fics ever, so I truly hope it's not too bad. Jacaerys is one of my favourite characters in hotd after Alicent so I really wanted to get his characteristics and behaviour right. Also, I didn't like the way they showed his grief after Luke died, as if he just moved on after two or three days. But overall, I enjoyed writing this:)

Jacaerys was infuriated with you.

You—his betrothed, acted like you owned the castle as soon as you strutted in. Speaking with no formality and a sharpness in your tongue that only infuriated him further. And especially when you did not seem to care for his heritage, who he was. The heir to the iron throne. Yet you acted as if he didn't exist to you. As if he meant nothing to you.

A marriage pact with the martells was only one of convenience. You, a princess of dorne, he, the firstborn son of queen Rhaenyra. Yet, they were stuck in dragonstone, and needed support to match the strength of the green armies. His mother needed this arrangement more than the martells did, and you made that very clear by acting carelessly and so freely, like you were in your own home. By taunting him, sitting at the great council table with your legs on them, a coin in your fingertips and a smirk in your lips. He hated it, he hated especially how good you looked.

He hated being betrothed to you already.

Rhaenyra had told him martells were rather, open and modern people. They took part in adultery even after being married, especially with the consent of their own partner. He did not know how anyone could be okay with such acts. He did not know what to expect when he met you, but it certainly wasn't how you commented on his face, calling him one of a beauty. It was inappropriate, calling a prince by such bold remarks on the first meeting, yet you did not seem to care.

But what edged him to his limit was the day you called him a bastard.

Jacaerys had been worried, he couldn't find you anywhere. Not that he cared, he was just stressed you would create another ruckus. He looked around everywhere, the garden, the great council, the dining hall, your room, even his room, but you were nowhere to be found. His chest tightened, a restlessness growing in his stomach. It seemed he always felt that way without being with you for too long. Not because he missed you—of course, but because he wanted to ensure everything was going smoothly.

He was going around circles, head spinning with a feeling that made him uncomfortable. Where were you? did you flee the castle? or were so bored of him you went to the city to a brothel in search of another man to keep you company. Anger and jealousy filled in his chest at the mere thought of that.

Jacaerys did not seem where he was going, many thoughts inside his head, before he harshly opened a door to the library. And to his surprise, there you were, a book in your hand. ‘Adventures of Aegon the conqueror’, he could read the name of the book by how you were holding it. He felt he could breathe again. By the loud sound of the door opening your head flitted towards him. Your usual smirk growing up your lips. Something that made his heart flutter in a way he didn't want it to. He clenched his jaw, holding his fists in a tight ball.

“Where have you been?” he asks, desperate tone in his voice.

“Ah, Prince Jacaerys.” you smile, closing the book and turning your attention towards him. He hated how your eye lashes fluttered, your hair falling down in just the perfect way. “I've been gaining some Targaryen knowledge, as you can see. Since we are to be married, I thought I should know my husband's family. Don't you think?”

Husband.

That word rose heat to his cheeks, quickly clearing his throat.

“I'm not your husband.” he spoke, in a tone harsher than he intended, “At least not yet anyway.”

You smile wider, making his heart race. He was always a bit stubborn, and uptight. Yet you were always so carefree and light, always so kind with his demise. He didn't know what to make of it all. A curious look grazed upon your face, eyebrows furrowing. You sat up, walking onwards another shelf of books, lips pursued. Before looking at him.

“I have always wondered, hmm,” you say, your finger coming up to your lips, “do tell me prince Jacaerys, is it true that you were born out of wedlock?”

His eyes widened, “What did you say to me?”

You either did not notice the offend and defensiveness in his tone, or simply pretend not to. Turning to look at him, “I mean, all Targaryen children have white hair. Do they not? Even if they did not, none of your formal parents have black, dark hair like yours.”

His breath hitches, all of the insecurities he had contained in a jar of fireflies fled out the second you brought out his hair. A wall rising inside him. You were acting as if you just did not ask the most dangerous question ever. As if it did not matter to you.

“How dare you insinuate such filthy claims?!” his voice rises, almost shouting. Your eyes flicker surprise for a moment, before turning back to the usual stoic look.

“Ah, you are offended.” you state, as if he shouldn't be, “I meant no harm, my prince. I have no problem with you being a bastard. In fact, it only makes you more interesting. The thing I don't like is your distaste for the truth. One should own up to who they are.”

Bastard.

You, called him a bastard. He isn't able to speak for a moment, too tongue—tied. You....think of him this way too? you? he can't hear as you speak further, a ringing in his head. It only intensifies. Only when you start talking about dorne is when he snaps back from his haze.

“And I have thousands of brothers and sisters back in dorne, no one cares ther—”

“I don't care, what you dornish do back there, but here you don't speak to me with filths of a claim.” he grits, his voice cold, “I am the queen's son. And if I hear you say one word about that again, I will see you hanged.” his words held so much malice in them, one would believe it to be true.

Of course, he could never actually do that, the blacks needed martells armies more than ever. His mother couldn't afford them raging war at her and joining the green's side. And, he could never harm you either. It was just a baseless threat, one he said out of anger and insecurity. He immediately regretted it when he saw the look on your face; hurt. But even worse, fear. Before he could even begin to take them back, it was too late. Your spot, where you stood, was already empty.

You had seen him less and less after that. Of course, you were your usual self. Taunting and teasing him, but something was off. Something distant. He hated it. He hated how much he missed it. Your remarks, your witty replies, your cockiness. He wanted it back. He wanted you back.

Next time he sees you, it's in a completely unexpected place. Dragon—pit. He was about to ride on Vermax to patrol the skies, when he stops. There you were, sat on the hard rock, legs swinging at the edge of it and his dragon's head in your hands. You..you were feeding him. “What the hell do you think you're doing?!” he shouts, eye wide.

You turn your head to him, a smirk on your lips grows. You enjoyed the fact he was on his nerves, furious.

“What does it look like? I'm feeding this cute little angel right here.” you coo, talking to his dragon in a baby voice. Vermax was known for her temper, yet with you it magically dis—appears? a little bit inside him was flustered, heart beating faster than ever that you and his dragon, a very important part of his life, bonded flawlessly. But he shrugs it off, he has to. Flushing over you isn't his duty.

Protecting you is.

As much as he would like to deny it, you're his now. Lawfully so. And he wouldn't let anything happen to you. Especially Vermax. He wouldn't know how to live with himself if his own dragon were to be the cause of, of.. your demise. His throat burns, even the mere thought of harm coming to you feels as if he's being drowned to death. After Luke, he cannot lose anyone. Jacaerys cannot lose you. Even if that was the first thing he tried to do after meeting you. You were the most part of his frustrations yet the only thought when he's in his bed at night.

“Have you lost your mind?” he asks, his voice harsh, as if you were his child and he was scolding you for doing something childish.

“Have you had no fear? you could have died what were you even thinking?!” you falter for a moment, upon seeing the trembling of his hands and the tightness in his voice.

“Jacaerys—”

“No!” he interrupts you, “You, you could have been...do you even realise..”

Your eyes widened as he struggled to even breath, huffing for air anxiously. You quickly get up, walking towards him. He's so much inside his head that he doesn't notice your hands coming up his face, slinging through his dark curly hair. An act that slowed and claimed his beating heart down. Your soft palms make contact with both his cheeks, a peaceful shush in your voice and he finally breathes. Properly. He sighed, eyes closing as his hands came up to hold yours.

This, you, him? this felt oddly peaceful. This felt like home. Vermax watches the whole interaction with a quiet huff, turning away back to the pits. You nudge closer towards him, resting your forehead against his. Love. This felt like love. “Promise me” he starts out, his voice low and timid, “promise you will never do that again.” Instead of putting on a fight like you usually do, you nod, gently caressing his cheek. His head leaned further into your touch, putty in your hands.

“I promise.”

That, gives him great relief. “Good.”

Time seems to slow down, Jacaerys could count every freckle on your nose to cheeks, every small cut in between your knuckles or lips, every curve of smile you put on. And all the scents coming from your body that drove him crazy. You notice his lips still trembling, and above your judgement, you decide to kiss it better. He inhales a sharp breath as your lips touch his, but makes no movement to push you away. It's gentle, barely brushing against his. Jacaerys realised how they fit perfectly amidst his, and how much he was craving it all these months until he finally tasted them.

You slowly pull away, hesitantly. His eyes are still closed. Hands crawling up your waist. He speaks again, a whisper almost.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

He's talking about the library, and you smiled softly, shaking your head.

“It's okay. You can't get rid of me that easily, Jace. Should have known that when you got betrothed to a dornish princess.”

You had already forgiven him. But he didn't want you to. He didn't want to be at your mercy this easily, not when he wasn't able to forgive himself. You, you had crept your way into his heart when he didn't want you to, and now he never wanted to let you go. It was all your fault.

“No I...” he shakes his head, “I never should have said that. Not only because it was so wrong but also because it was completely untrue.” Jacaerys swallows his breath, every bit of him wanted to turn away and never look back, but he couldn't do that. “I have been called names, about my heritage. Ever since I was a child. About my parenting and what not. And it's very...when anyone talks about it, it's like a bandage ripping off a new and fresh wound. No matter how many years pass by, it's still like that for me.”

You nod your head slowly, in understanding. This was raw. He had finally told you one of his darkest parts, his worst fears, and you hadn't run away.

“I understand. I should have never said that. I did not know it was like this for you.” He feels relief in your words.

But there was still something he needed to let out.

“But I...” he didn't know how hard this was for him until he started to actually say it, “I really could never mean it. What I said. Even if you have committed the worst treason or crime, even if you had taken my heart and carved it out, I still wouldn't be able to do one thing that might be even close to harming you. Believe me I have tried. And I have failed.”

He looks away from you, cheeks closing red. Jacaerys had just poured his heart out and gave it to you. But the chances of you, and feeling the same? were very dim. He sees stars when he sees you, what do you see? just him? or even worse? a filth in the name of a true born prince. A gasp leaves his lips as your fingers trace the outlines of his jaw, trailing down to his neck to his chest. You stopped at the red and black three dragons symbol made on the polish cloth he wore.

“Why do you think I agreed to this marriage? not because of this.” you point to the very symbol engraved on his chest, of the house targaryen, “If it was just for this, I certainly would have never.”

He turns his head back to you, confusion in his face. He also feels a bit of guilt in him. At first, he only agreed to this pact because his mother had no choice. Because of your house. Nothing else. And you're saying that his house didn't even matter to you when you agreed to this betrothal? then why? you did not even know what he looked like, and you simply agreed?

“Why then?”

That's the question that's now left in him. Why, if his house and title didn't matter?

“Well,” your lips curl up, a glint in your eyes, as a blush arose your cheeks, “From years I had heard stories of Targaryen princes. How arrogant and unkind they were, your cousins, Aegon and Aemond, well I certainly didn't hear anything good about them. And then you came. The velaryon prince, the son of the realm's delight, born with a kind heart and a fierceness to protect. I knew I had to marry someday, but I only agreed to marry you because I knew—you wouldn't mistreat me. Because I fell in love with the stories of the dark haired prince who had the most beautiful brown eyes ever, who protected his brother when he was a child himself, who stole my heart before he even claimed it.”

Jacaerys doesn't know what to say, his throat falls dry. It doesn't feel real, when he's wanted something so dearly and someone just gives it to him freely; it does not feel real. You do not feel real. But you are. He knows you are when your hands tug at his collar, his face close to you as you pull him towards you and your breath fanning on his cheeks. He knows this is real, and it's better than any dream he's ever had.

“I do not want our marriage to be an unhappy one.”

You say, a plea in your voice.

He smiles, wide. And he doesn't even have to make an effort this time, “For me, the words unhappy and you? well they don't go in the same sentence.”

That seals it for you, he can see that. As you kiss his words, an unspoken understanding and passion in it. Jacaerys realises he could get used to this. Kisses, hugs, reading each other books, waking by the warmth of your body besides his; in fact, there's no one else he'd rather do it by. And nothing he would want more.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛! 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒.

[realangelahernandez]

I’m so sad… time for an x reader fan fiction

[princessbellecerise]

Unlikely Places

Summary ✩ The unusual place your hotd lover likes to fuck you

Warnings ✩ Smut, straight up blasphemy (Aegon), semi-public sex

Jacaerys Velaryon

As the King, it’s not exactly wrong for the two of you to do it, but it does feel taboo every time you ride him on the Iron Throne

Every time you climbed on his lap, mindful of all the sharp points and swords, you couldn’t help but think that you’re breaking some kind of rule that doesn’t exist. After all, Jacaerys is the King and technically it is his seat. As the most powerful man in the realm, there’s no one for you to answer to after doing such an act but it certainly feels like you should

The first time that he asked you to do it, you thought that he was crazy. It was so unlike Jacaerys to do something so…risky, that you genuinely thought it was a prank at first

Only when realized you that your husband was completely serious did you really start to consider it

And you had to admit, the rush of power that you got as you bounced on your husband’s cock, riding the most powerful man in the most powerful seat in the realm was nothing like you’d ever experienced before

It quickly became your guilty pleasure to do so, never minding when Jacaerys summoned you to the throne room at such late hours

For you knew what awaited you when you climbed those steps, and each time you were filled with delicious anticipation to do it all over again

Aemond Targaryen

Ever since he was a child, Aemond had been absolutely fascinated by dragons

His obsession with those beasts was almost unnatural as his mother used to say, and you were quite inclined to agree as one day, Aemond tried to convince you to let him fuck you on top of Vhagar

Of course, the request had been so ridiculous that you genuinely thought your husband to be ill at first, maybe having contracted some disease during his many travels

Only when you saw Aemond’s confident smirk did you realize that it was indeed not a jest, and your husband really did want you to ride him on top of a fucking dragon

So there you were, thousands of feet in the air and praying that you didn’t fall as you straddled Aemond’s lap

You held onto him tight as your cunt sank down, your hips moving with his in the large saddle

Every kiss, every touch was concealed within the clouds, Vhagar flying steady while you rode your husband. The sound of her wings masked the pathetic way you cried for Aemond, filthy praises and words of encouragement being whispered in your ears as you soared across the skies

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon figures that if he’s going to hell anyways, he may as well have a little fun in his mortal life

What’s life without a little risk anyways, he figures. This is why he has no problem fucking you in the Sept of Seven, having you on your knees, naked in front of the statue of the Mother

Instead of praying to her though, you worship him. You praise his cock and the way it makes you feel so good—better than praying, really

The absolute trill of someone coming in and getting caught is like no other. Sometimes, Aegon even hopes that you’ll be discovered—preferably by his mother or that cunt of Septa that’s always preaching about sin and virtue

He imagines their faces as he fucks you from behind, taunting you and making you look directly at the statue when you cum around him

Aegon’s never really believed in the Gods much, but the way your cunt feels wrapped around him is heavenly

And to him, there’s truly no greater tasting sin

Daemon Targaryen

Otto Hightower had once called Daemon brazen, irresponsible, violent, arrogant, reckless and a second Maegor

He supposed that it was true, but still, Otto Hightower was a cunt in Daemon’s mind, and the Prince would do anything to get back at him

…Including fucking in his bed

In Daemon’s very weak defense, he hasn’t meant to, really

When he pulled you in a for a kiss, intending to take you quickly before he had to attend a meeting later in the day, he hadn’t been paying attention to where he pulled you

He just wanted to feel you, to touch you before he had to leave for the day

And what do you know—the place that he ends up brining you to fufill your hurried tryst was the fucking Tower of the Hand

Neither of you realize it at first, too caught up in each other to notice the amount of green, grey and white around you

It isn’t until you stumble onto the actual bed, Daemon fumbling to get your clothing off do you finally look up and you’re greeted by a portrait of Otto fucking Hightower on the walls

Alarmed, you immediately tell Daemon and it takes only a second to realize where you’ve accidentally stumbled

Of course, Daemon thinks it’s hilarious and even if you want to leave, a little creeped out at the thought of being fucked on the same sheets the Hand of the King sleeps on, Daemon is entirely too thrilled to leave

Once the idea is in his brain, it won’t be going any time soon

A mischievous grin grows on your lover’s face, and somehow, Dameon convinces you to let him take on Otto’s clean, perfectly folded sheets, loving the way you mess them up with your messy fucking

Of course, he’ll just blame the servants for all the mess, but now every time he faces Otto there’s always a knowing smirk on Daemon’s face, smug that the Hand will never know the dirty things said and done on the very mattress he sleeps on

Cregan Stark

Cregan was the Lord of Winterfell, and because of that he was allowed to eat where he pleased, train where he pleased…and fuck where he pleased

It was this that he reminded you of as he took you in one of the hot springs the castle had to offer, water splashing as your husband’s hips thrust into yours

He had you on his lap, your tits pressed against his warm wet chest as you bounced on his cock

The both of you were well aware that this was a public place and that anyone could stumble upon you, but that only spurred you on more

Honestly, seeing your honorable and kind husband act so reckless was a turn on in itself, loving the way Cregan grunted and didn’t care who heard him

He was lost in the feel of your cunt and the warm water which only added to the sensations

Add that to the trill of getting caught, and neither of you really lasted long when you fucked in the springs

Still panting and filled with your husband’s seed, you grinned as you ran a hand through his tangled hair

“Another day without being caught,” You said, slightly disappointed

Cregan shrugged. “Well, maybe we’ll succeed next time.”

Benjicot Blackwood

“Ben, not here! Someone could see us!”

“Then let them see. Let those Bracken cunts see how a real man pleases his Lady wife,” Benji whispered, and you couldn’t even deny that fucking right on the Blackwood-Bracken boundary line didn’t bring a kind of fire to your veins that you craved

Your lover had always been more shy and sweet than anything else, but you knew just how deep his hatred for the Brackens ran when he threw all of that away and fucked you so close to their territory

Deep, satisfactory moans left his lips as he rutted into you, the thrill of getting caught edging you both on like no other

You pressed against Benji, panting as his cock drove in out of you and hit your sweet spots over and over

All you could think about, all you craved was cumming around your husband’s cock while his enemies watched; and you did

Benji was beyond proud of himself as you moaned and let the entirety of House Bracken know what was happening. Let them know how good he was making you feel

He felt bad for the wives of those smug cunts as surely they’d never know such pleasure, but at least Benji knew that you couldn’t relate

The Brackens could say whatever they wanted about his family, but at least the Blackwoods knew how to fuck

And who knows, if they were watching, then maybe they’d even learn a thing or two from Benji

tags 🏷️

@alyssa-dayne

[swetearss]

sorry for always being the first like in your fic, i just check the 'x reader' hashtag constantly

[myladysapphire]

Agape

Agape love is defined as being unconcerned with the self and concerned with the greatest good of another. Agape love isn't born just out of emotions, feelings, familiarity, or attraction but from the will and as a choice. Agape requires faithfulness, commitment, and sacrifice without expecting anything in return.

word count: 798

CW: MDI 18+, smut, p in v, oral sex (f reciving), not beta read.

Aegon Targeryen x fem!reader

a/n very love sappy, but i love tom so its only right

Masterlist

She was a lady from some noble house, sent to kings landing by her father to find some suitable husband, that could only benefit him. But the second she entered kings landing she caught Aegon’s eye, the pair quickly becoming enamoured in each other, and soon any hopes her father had of her making a subtle match was ruined, and she found her match in Aegon instead.

He was the opposite of ideal, he was a first born son and yet was entitled to nothing and already wed. In no Westorsosi world could the two love openly and yet with him she loved him effortlessly. She didn’t love him for the crown he might one day wear, or the riches he adorned, but for him and him alone.

And he, well he never looked for love before her. And yet the second he saw her he knew she was perfect for him, and that love was the only thing he would ever find with her and her alone.

They had planned the a life were they could live, happy in love with no one pulling them apart. And the day came for that dream to become true.

They had been awoken at dawn, a maid entering his chamber with news of his fathers death. And yet no sadness was found. Only hope.

They had exchanged smiles, and quickly packed there things, quickly running through he secret passages of the keep to the dragon pit, where they made their quick escape on the back of sunfyre.

They had nothing too lose and everything to gain from leaving, and that everything was each other.

They had been living in Bravvos for two years in utter bliss.

Aegon having become a moderately successful merchant somehow charming some rich Bravvosi lords into employing him in their trading empire, and she had started to work in a book shop.

They lived comfortably, being given a manor on one of the lord’s estates. They somehow had left with nothing and yet found themselves living in what many may call the laps of luxury.

Though there were some struggles, such as were to hide sunfyre, but the dragon seemed to love the freedom of the continent, disappearing for weeks on end before finally returning.

Another struggle was the fact that they could never seem to get out of bed.

“Gods!” she moaned throwing her head back, she had awoken to Aegon’s head between her thighs, his tongue endlessly teasing her clit, his fingers plunging in and out of her making her peak twice already, and still refused to lift his head.

Gripping the back of his neck, she slowly pulled him away from her heat, him whining at the loss of her sweet taste.  

Though she made up for it as she pulled him into a deep heated kiss, before slowly flipping them, so his head was now against the headboard, and her sat in his lap, there lips never breaking apart.

There bedsheets had long since fallen of the bed, leaving them and just their bare bodies to bathe in the sunlight that was leaking though the curtains, they had half hazardly closed the night before.

She began to grind her heat against his cock, covering him in her wetness, and making his already hard cock, impossibly harder, causing moans to fall from his lips.

“I love you” he whispered against her lips, his arms moving to wrap around hers, before finally reaching down, grabbing his cock and finally entered her, they both moaned as he did.

She moved slowly, grinding her body against his, with slow tortuous movements, kissing him slowly and returning his words as her own.

After several minutes, and pleas form Aegon she changed their positions, so that Aegon now lay flat on his back, his arms pinned down by hers as she finally picked up the pace.

She started to ride up and down his length, griding her hips as she went, leaving Aegon a moaning mess and unable to move as she took only her own pleasure and focused on circling her hips to hit that sweet spot only his cock could reach.

“Faster, please!” Aegon begged, though in truth he was at her mercy, happy to take what ever she would give him, even if it denied him his own peak.

She complied, moving her hands to realise his, instead positioning them to hold onto to his legs behind her, allowing Aegon to grab onto her hips, as she focused on riding up and down his dick, set just at the right angle, so that at every move his cock was hitting her sweet spot.

Before they knew it they were both reaching their peaks, and collapsing together on the bed, only to here Aegon say “Again?”

Taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog@apollonshootafar@zillahvathek@flrboyd @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99a

to be added to taglist