#aemond x Targaryen

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warning; future chapters will include:

Graphic Violence, XXX content, Targcest, Spoilers, Canon depravity, death and war, troubling being afoot, menacing, mischief making, genocide, murder, blood, guts, dragons etc.

Word Count ~ 2k+

Index

i ●ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi● vii ● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

Prelude ~

Princess Visenya Velaryon, had always been cited as a fair & bold creature. Born in 111AC, a smile that gleamed with mischief adorned her face, marking her most like her mother Rhaenyra. She was, indeed, the picture of a Valyrian Princess, the picture of her mother – with wide eyes and demure glances which hid the current of cunning beneath. She was a but harmless thing, playful at best, impish at worse; at least so far as her grandsire King Viserys thought. Proclaimed as the Laenor Velaryon’s only daughter – the Princess did not inherit her father’s deeper skin or the ringed seafoam shaded locks of Velaryon women. Visenya in fact, did not possess many of House Velaryon' traits, both of the body and mind she seemed of true Targaryen stock, and it was but her mother Rhaenyra who knew, the young princess indeed was just that. Visenya’s impish glares and taunts were alike to that of The Rouge Prince, and to the common Lord or Lady of the court, one might think she inherited such a trait from her mother’s uncle. However, other more insidious rumours deemed Visenya a bastard of Prince Daemon’s, conceived by her mother unknowingly, right before she had wed Ser Leanor. Such rumours would be deemed, most truthful.

i - 'Old Wounds'

123 AC ~

The Princess Visenya, having but defying her mothers’ orders found her way to the Dragonpits alone, once more. She snuck through the winding caverns the soft glow of firelight shading the stone walls, her crimson dress dragging along the volcanic sand below. It was a soothing place, she thought, the warmth of the air… the smell of dragonfire which would linger upon one’s flesh, the gentle growls, and mummers of stirring Dragons. A place in which only a Targaryen might feel at ease. However, it was not the mummers of waking dragons which echoed through the caves in which Visenya heard. Her head peaked, her brow furrowing in confusion as she heard stifled sobs. Wrathful sobs.

She walked with caution, following the solemn sound until she stumbled upon him. The silver haired boy with his knees to his chest, his fists tightly scrunched. She stopped, taking in the sight, a most startling one for the Princess. Aemond.

It was only but a few hours ago that she had heard of her half-brother’s marvellous prank, allying with their eldest Uncle, Prince Aegon; to give Prince Aemond a pig instead of a dragon, to lure and taunt him just to see his face fall from glee to humiliation. Visenya had coiled with hearty laughter as her brother’s recounted the story, she longed to have been there, to see the propitious Prince Aemond faulter. However, her joy was shortly curtailed as Aemond had stumbled upon the scene, the imprint of his stern furrow upon hearing Visenya’s laughter still within her mind. Indeed, the sight she saw before her now, was unlike his affectedly stern façade – it was weak, crumbling, hurt.

The young Princess approached him softly, her face washed with a slight uncertainty.

“Aemond?” Her voice echoed quietly.

Aemond lifted his chin. A thin veil of tears dampened his lashes, his eyes red, bloodshot, and heavy with sorrow. In response, the prince simply glanced down, his expression sullen.

"I’ve no interested in your gloating." He said.

The silver haired girl raised an eyebrow. Her mouth curved upwards in a bemused smirk. "Why would I gloat? It was a rather clever prank. Regardless, it was not I who did it."

The prince’s fists clenched. His knuckles turning white as he looked up at her, his grey eyes glaring. "Yet you snickered all the same, you all laughed at my expense! I cannot forget what you all did to me, how you all..." His voice trailed off, his gaze falling to his fists. When he looked back at her, there were fresh dampness under his cheeks as his expression turn bitter.

“Leave. I should not like you reporting back to your brothers the details of my misery.” His voice a low warning.

“I had no intention to.” Visenya raised her brow, her arms folded. As she looked upon the prince she couldn’t help feeling a flicker of pity, his gaze so bitter… so wrathful. She sighed, coming down to sit beside him.

“It was a mere jest. Do not tear yourself to bits over it. Your thoughts are far harsher than the truth of it.” Her attempt at sympathy making her cringe.

“You know nothing of my thoughts!” Aemond snapped.

The air settled between them for a moment, the silence brutal as she looked to him, her hand hesitantly placing itself on his shoulder. Aemond snapped his head, his eyes narrowing as he brushed her hand away.

“I do not need your pity.” His tone curt.

The princess rose, scoffing as she extended her hand to him below. “Get up.” She spoke promptly.

His face coiled with both refusal and confusion. “What?” He snapped.

“I said, get up. If you do not need my pity, so be it. But I cannot stand to listen to your whining any longer. Come, I am visiting Silverwing, and you shall be my torch bearer.” She smiled mischievously, her hand lifting him up, then walking to another torch mounted on the stone walls, using it’s flame to set hers alight.

Visenya walked back, forcing the rough trunk of wood into his hand. “No- “His voice grating as she then shoved her hand upon his mouth. His eyes wide with shock as she crooned into his face.

“Enough of your sulking. Come. You wish for a Dragon, no? Then you ought to learn how to tend to one.”

She pulled him with her, further into the dark caverns of the Dragonpit until they came to Silverwing’s lair. “Silverwing, māzigon naejot nyke.” Visenya cooed.  Silverwing, come to me.

The sudden shake of the earth bellow accompanied the grumbling of the large beast, her silver scales gleaming by the flickering torch light. Visenya turned, glancing at Aemond, his eyes like moons boring into her dragon.

She watched as he stepped back, his neck tilting upwards, the breeze hitting his silver hair. A smug smile came to Visenya’s lips as she turned to Aemond. His face was still set in stone, his gaze hardening as he watched the great beast. "So," the princess prompted, "Are you going to pet her? Or shall you remain sulking?”

Aemond's lips parted, he was about to make a snide remark before sighing. "Of course not." He walked closer to the dragon, standing a few feet away from her. The beast was enormous, the sheer size of her body dominating the wide cave, her lithe yet robust frame looming over the two young Targaryen’s. Silverwing's grey head looked down at him, her eyes narrowing. The prince had not stopped to wonder how the dragon would react. Aemond grumbled under his breath, then took a hesitant step forward. He looked at the dragon, its shining silver scales glinting in the dim light, his breathing hitched. The Prince could not help his anxiety, he had never been so close to a dragon before… never felt its hot breath warm his skin. He moved closer, swallowing a ball in his throat.

Aemond had taken another step forward when Silverwing's body rattled with warning, her low growls causing his steps to falter, his hand tightening on the base of the torch. He would not allow himself to look away, he would not show fear, nor would he retreat. The torch cast a long shadow upon the cave walls, Silverwing’s breath rapidly increasing as he moved closer, her nostrils flaring with each exhale. The dragon's eyes did not stray from the young prince, studying his every movement as Visenya let out a soft chuckle, revelling in his rattled stance.

"She shall not bite you." An amused smirk curled upon her lips. "Silverwing, māzigon." she cooed. The dragon's head turned, her eyes focusing on the princess before she did so.

"There, you see?" Visenya asked, she looked over to him, a small part of her finding the utmost enjoyment in the nervous expression he wore. The dragon raised her chin, letting out a soft whisp of hot air from her nostrils.

Visenya’s amusement brought no pleasure to Aemond, his expression taut, his neck tilting up to look at the dragon approaching him. The dragon halted, lowering its head almost appearing as though it were sneering at the young prince. Aemond stilled, taking one step back as Silverwing’s jaw neared him. Visenya’s eyes wide with an intrigue as she watched her dragon interact with her uncle. Silverwing was indeed, sizing him out. Aemond’s chest rose, and with that he stepped back once more, folding his arm as though he were unimpressed with the beast’s size. Silverwing giving out a soft huff as she moved, her large head nudging against Visenya.

“She was Queen Alysanne’s dragon.” Aemond spoke matter-of-factly.

“You know of her histories?” The princess raised her brow.

“Unlike you, I have decidedly taken an interest in our House’s legacy. It apart of our duty.” Aemond replied, firmly.

Visenya scoffed, turning as she sauntered towards him, her arms folded as a smug smile appeared upon her lips. “I am far too busy actually flying and tending to my dragon to have time to reading of other Targaryen’s doing the same.” Her voice haughty.

“I have yet to see you do such a thing.” He furrowed his brow in disbelief.

Aemond watched as Visenya placed a gentle hand upon Silverwing, whispering a soft farewell before they exited her lair, the princess spoke smugly, “Yes, well I do not expect you to pay much attention to my doings. Regardless, I am already rather adapt, Daemon said I did not need a saddle so-“

“Daemon?” Aemond raised his brow, and Visenya shrugged, nonchalantly about the fact. “Yes.”

The young prince furrowed his brow in deep disapproval, his stern demeanour returning as he stopped, Visenya turning as he spoke.

“Uncle should know better than to allow such a thing.” He barked. Visenya stepped forward scoffing. “So? Those bloody Maesters- “

Aemond stepped closer, his voice overlapping hers. “Those Maesters are doing their duty in making sure you are equipped to ride properly. You ought not to be going on saddleless joyrides with Uncle Daemon.” The Prince stared sharply, unyielding.

“Are you to tell on me?” The princess gritted her teeth.

A disenfranchised look came to Aemond’s face, he spoke more like a father scolding his daughter than a boy of her own age “Daemon is not fit to minding you. You are a Princess of the Relam, if anything were to happen-“

Princess Visenya’s eyes widened in both panic and fury, she could not have the precious time she spent with her father ruined by Aemond’s incessant need to dob. “But nothing did happen! If you dare speak a word of this I shall tell my brothers that I had caught you sobbing and sulking in the Dragonpits all by yourself… like a helpless, pathetic babe whining for its mother.” She interrupted.

“Do not dare.” He sneered, his gaze lowering.

“Swear you shall not tell.” Her voice raised, stern. Silence fell between the two as their gazes pierced into each other, they stood opposed in the darkened space. “Swear it.” Her tone sharp.

He said nothing, the silence lingered as he felt his strength faulter. “Fine.”

The two Targaryen’s did not speak again as they walked up out from the Pit’s entrance. Visenya’s eyes expanding in a deep trepidation as she was met with the folded arms of her mother, Rhaneyra’s face stern. “It may please you to know that you’ve had every guard and servant forced to abandon their duties so they may search for you.” Rhaneyra’s voice echoed at the carven entrance, her head tilted downwards as she gazed into the calculatedly soft eyes of her daughter.

“I had told you where I wished to go.” Visenya lowered her gaze in sweet self-admittance as her mother shook her head.

Rhaenyra spoke firmly to remind the young Princess her mother was indeed, well aware of her charmed tongue, often used to evade trouble. "And I had told you no more leisure trips to the Dragonpits without an escort.” Rhaneyra’s doubled down as the young Princess protested. “But mother- “

Rhaneyra’s tone softens as she steps forward, placing a hand upon her daughter's shoulder. “Visenya, I worry for you.”

Visenya turned her head, gesturing to the seemly meek Aemond which stood behind her “But I was not alone. Prince Aemond had accompanied me.” Visenya gave the young prince a narrowing gaze, subliminally signalling for him to nod; he did. The future Queen could not help but tilt her head, a small warmth in her chest as finally, it seemed there may be hope for some level of kinship between her own and Alicent’s children.

Rhaenyra regained focused once more, her voice almost lenient, “Aemond is but a year your prior and the King’s young son no less, tis not his duty to protect you. And while I am glad of the peace the two of you have forged...” Rhaenyra sighed softly, and shook her head a little, clearly unimpressed. “I will not have my only daughter risking her life to get to the Dragonpits, without a proper escort. The streets are most unpredictable, my girl.” She shuddered.

“I did not take the streets.” Visenya protested, a small smile upon her face as though the news would be pleasing to her.

Rhaenyra frowned, stepping forward to Aemond as her concern reignited as she gazed at them both, “You took the passages?" She leaned towards her daughter, her voice hushed so that her half-brother would not hear. "I ought to have the mind to bar you in your chambers until the moon turns!” Rhaneyra's tone hardened once more.

Visenya looked down, her gaze ruminating on the floor as her mother’s tone grew stern, there was a pause; she felt embarrassment coil within her, why must mother do this in front of him, she thought. Rhaenyra sighed as she noted her daughter’s meek demeanour she let her frustration dissipate, she did not dare scold her own child in front of her half-brother.  Aemond noticed the tension ease between them, he remained still, his arms held behind his back as he watched Visenya. Satisfaction bloomed within him; he’d never seen her so… passive.  

Rhaenyra yielded, her tone softening, “You must take an escort, sweet girl. I’ve little desire to strip you of your freedoms, so do not force me to do so.” Visenya looked up, her pale violet eyes meeting those of her mother, Rhaenyra placed a gentle hand upon her daughter’s head, stroking her silver hair.

Visenya gave a small and conceded, “Yes, mother…”

As the moment came to an end, Rhaneyra’s gaze came to the young green prince before her, Alicent’s son… her father’s son… her younger brother.

Aemond shuffled under his sister’s gaze, they had hardly ever spoken all he knew was that she bore bastards, that she was the King’s favoured child. Rhaenyra spoke again, clearing her throat. “Come, the both of you. I fear the Queen, has sent for your whereabouts, Aemond.”

With that, the three Targaryen's took to exit the Dragonpits, not another word was uttered.

○ii○

[thavampress]

A Court of Flame

Aemond Targaryen x OC!femTargaryen

Masterlist

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Chapter Three

~Aemond~

Aegon sat across from Aemond, his feet up on the table between them. He swirled the goblet of wine he held, sniffing in discontent.

The room was quiet, as it was just Aemond and Aegon. They were in Aegon’s chambers, meeting as they’d grown accustomed too. A strange byproduct of the war was a reconciliation between Aemond and his older brother. After so much loss over something neither of them completely supported, they’d learned they shared a mutual understanding of one another.

Aemond nursed his own wine as Aegon drained a third cup. “What do you make of your betrothed?” Aegon asked. “She has grown quite attractive, has she not?”

Aemond laughed through his nose. “She is quite something.”

“Oh please, I am sure you look forward to your wedding night,” Aegon chuckled, pouring himself another cup.

“Tsk tsk, brother,” Aemond replied, taking a deep drink for himself. “She has a certain fire about her, I suppose.”

“Well that’s very Targaryen of her.”

“I find myself strangely…drawn to her,” Aemond said hesitantly. “Not just in wanting to bed her. I feel we are the same, in a way.”

“Very poetic as usual, brother,” Aegon smiled, reaching across the table to snatch a grape of out a bowl between them.

Aemond hummed. “She said she would not hold her brother’s death against me.”

“Well, your future wife is very forgiving then,” Aegon replied.

“No, not forgiving,” Aemond corrected. “Something else entirely.”

“Like what?” Aegon asked, popping another grape in his mouth.

“That,” Aemond said, reaching for the wine pitcher to refill his own goblet, “remains to be seen, dear brother.”

“Are you looking forward to your party?” Aegon was mocking now, knowing full well Aemond preferred to avoid feasts and fancy where he could.

Aemond rolled his eye in response. “I only hope it improves everyone’s shit mood.”

“I for one, shall indeed enjoy the festivities all in your honor,” Aegon said, lifting his cup. “For there’s no better place for a drink and a fuck than a feast.”

“You may wish to consider sobering up then, brother,” Aemond suggested, standing from the table. “Your big moment in is less than eight hours.”

Aemond left his goblet half full on the table, taking his leave of Aegon’s chambers.

~Saesha~

Saesha awoke that morning with dread pooling in her stomach. She had loathed feasts and parties when her own family hosted them, let alone the snakes of the Red Keep.

This evening’s event was the first of the three-night celebrations leading up to her wedding to Aemond. She could hardly believe that it was actually happening. But something had shifted, she could tell. Ever since Aemond’s appearance in her chambers, she noticed him lingering.

Whenever she was with Alicent putting anything together for the wedding, he’d suddenly appear to check on his mother. When she sat with some ladies in the garden yesterday afternoon (not by choice, but in decorum), Aemond happened to be taking a stroll himself.

She even caught him looking at her differently. His air of disinterest seemed to have holes poked in it. His gaze was too intent. She found herself drawn to Aemond as well, and even though she swore not to feel guilty for the marriage she’d been shoved into, she couldn’t help but feel wrong for it.

Saesha opted to stay in bed that morning. When the servants came in to bathe and dress her she groaned, burying her face in the pillows.

“Princess, you must bathe,” one servant pleaded. “We will need sufficient time to prepare you for this evening.”

“Hours to twist my hair into knots, you mean?” Saesha replied, sitting up in bed with a huff. She didn’t mean to be so snippy, but there was something about being forced to attend this feast like prized horse that made the all-to-familiar anger bubble under her skin.

Alicent had been nice enough, but Saesha wasn’t quick to forget, and she certainly wasn’t handing out forgiveness.

After a bit more gentle encouraging, the servants finally got her into the hot bath tub, steaming with oils of mint and lemon. Saesha sighed as she sank into the tub, the hot water spreading chill bumps over skin. One of the servants washed her long silver hair until it shone like metal and smelled like fresh mint leaves. Saesha liked the cool scent, for some reason it reminded her of Dragonstone.

When she was scrubbed clean, the servants dried her and dressed her in a flowing silk robe that was a deep red. It was a beautiful thing, she had to admit. She sat at her vanity once again as the maids braided her hair into an elaborate net that seemed to cover the back of her head. The rest of her hair hung in loose curls down her shoulders.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen,” the guard at the door announced suddenly.

Aemond strode in, a long box in his hands. He bowed, and Saesha rolled her eyes. “I bring a gift,” he said.

“Leave us,” Saesha sighed. The staff shuffled out quickly.

Aemond set the box down on the little circular table beside him. “So sorry to bother, princess,” he said sarcastically.

“What it is?” Saesha asked, ignoring him and instead focusing on the box.

“Open it,” he said, smiling. “Though if I’m honest, I cannot take credit. It is truly from my mother.”

Saesha stood from the vanity and crossed the room to the table and Aemond standing beside it. She did her very best to seem entirely interested in the box.

She refused to be guilty, but she also refused to give him the satisfaction.

Saesha plucked the lid from the box, revealing a folded up gown in the most stunning, deep emerald green. She hesitated before lifting it out. It had beading along the bodice that almost looked like flames licking up the dress.

“It is beautiful,” she commented softly. When she looked up at Aemond, she caught him taking in the red silk robe she was wearing.

“Indeed,” Aemond said, forcing himself to look at the dress in her hands. “My mother thought you could wear it in honor of my dearly departed sister.”

Ah, yes, Saesha remembered. Her parents had launched a plot to murder Aegon’s children in retribution for Lucerys’ death. Aemond’s sister, Helaena, had thrown herself from the highest tower of the Keep as a result of the loss of her children.

Saesha clenched her jaw. “Why would she want me to honor her, of all people?”

Aemond’s face was hard now. “I do not know.”

There was a moment of stillness, and Aemond did not look away from her.

“It is a lovely gown,” Saesha said finally. “And I am sorry, for what happened to your sister. It was not right.”

Aemond did not respond, but his features softened a bit.

“Why did you bring it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you bring me the dress? Why not have a servant bring it?” Saesha asked, laying the dress back in the box.

Aemond pondered, that familiar hum resonating from him. “I suppose I wished to see you before the feast tonight,” he answered. “I am not completely sure why.”

Saesha had to smile. “Well I am glad you came. I suppose I should wish you good luck.”

“And to you, princess,” Aemond said with a bow of his head. He turned to leave then.

“Aemond,” Saesha called, halting him at the door, “perhaps we can meet in the training yard tomorrow morning? I promise no hidden daggers.”

“You wish to train with me again?” He seemed incredulous.

“As I said, why should I have to be miserable? Why should either of us? We are to be married in three days, I ought to be able to manage a sparring session.”

“Deal, princess,” he said, a handsome smirk arching his lips. “Though I will fetch you from your chambers, like a damned gentleman.”

She laughed as he exited with a dramatic slam of her door.

+

Saesha stood outside of the throne room doors, flanked by kingsguard. Her emerald gown fit her perfectly, and was modest enough for Alicent’s taste. She fussed with the sleeve, rich lace flowing down her arms. She could hear the commotion of the crowd inside. She knew Aemond was already seated at the head table, all them were. She was to enter last, to be presented to the court officially as Aemond’s betrothed.

Finally, three loud booms thumped from inside, and she heard Aegon addressing the crowd.

“I am happy to present…” The heavy doors open, and every noble eye is upon her. “…Princess Saesha Targaryen, true born daughter to Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen.”

Aemond stood beside his brother at the head table.

“Let us toast to my brothers soon to be bride, and finally uniting House Targaryen after so much strife.”

The room erupting into a cheer, everyone raising their cups to her and the King. Saesha was honestly impressed that Aegon made the speech. He was generally disinterested in any kingly act outside of drinking and fucking whatever he pleased with impunity. Perhaps he did it for his brother.

Aemond smiled down at her as she approached the table, admiring her pretty green dress. He walked around it, meeting her at the bottom of the stone steps leading up to the throne. He took her hand and lead her back to their seats, as was customary.

Aegon leaned forward, capturing both her and Aemond’s attention once they were both seated. “Do I have permission to enjoy myself now, brother?”

Aemond scoffed, “You are the king.”

Aegon grinned, standing from his seat again. He raised his goblet, “To my brother, you bastard. And to Saesha, his lovely bride, perhaps you could bring him some joy. Though what he could truly use is thorough fuck-“

“Thank you for the sentiments, Aegon,” Aemond interrupted.

Aegon only laughed, trotting down the steps and disappearing into the crowd occupying the dance floor. Aemond rolled his eye with a chuckle, taking a deep drunk from his cup.

Saesha filled her own goblet. Aemond eyed her with a slight smile.

“Are you accustomed to drinking, princess?” He asked.

She rolled her violet eyes, lifting her cup to her lips and tipping it back slowing, gulping down the entirety of it. She set the goblet down firmly in front of her, licking her lips before grinning up at Aemond.

“It’s our feast, princeling,” she announced, reaching for the pitcher to refill her cup, “we must celebrate as adequately as everyone else.”

~Aemond~

Aemond stared at her, smiling. Truly smiling. He felt a slight buzz from the wine he’d had prior to the feast, on top of the cup he’d consumed at the table.

Saesha Targaryen was a vision tonight. Her dress left all to the imagination, as his mother ensured, yet it still accentuated everything perfectly. Her silver hair was braided elegantly in their ancestral fashion. She was a worthy bride, and Aemond felt grateful for that. Everyone else ranked beneath her.

He watched her take another deep drink of wine as a tiny droplet escaped the corner of her mouth. Aemond found himself fight the urge to swipe it away. Saesha reached a ring-clad hand up, wiping it away herself with her middle finger.

“Pardon me,” she smiled.

Aemond found suddenly that the wine was going to his head, because he felt urged to lean down and kiss her. He didn’t think she’d appreciate that very much. Though she had teased him that day in her chambers, and she’d been consistent in saying she planned on attempting to enjoy their marriage.

Without really knowing what he was doing, Aemond stood. Saesha gazed up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise as Aemond held out his hand.

“Dance with me, princess.”

She grinned, taking another swig from her cup and taking him firmly by the hand. Some of guests clapped as the walked onto the dance floor. Saesha ignored them, he noticed, only ever looking right at him.

The musicians started an upbeat song, and the line of lords and ladies ensued in a dance. Aemond watched her as they stepped forward and spun and did it again. On the third turn, Aemond saw that wicked grin appear on her face. Her steps became more bouncy, until she was jumping around in circles, dramatically motioning the steps of the dance.

Aemond couldn’t help but laugh. She took both his hands then, and began spinning them both around. She looked utterly free—face flushed and cracked with a genuine smile.

They halted with the song, and Aemond noticed some of the court eyeing them with questioning glares. He couldn’t care less. Even before the Dance, he never concerned himself with the chatters and opinions of the castle—or otherwise.

The crowd resumed around them as another tune began. Saesha led the way back toward the table. It was empty now.

“Do you want to eat?” Aemond asked.

She shook her head.

“You really should eat, princess.”

“Oh would you stop calling me princess,” she sighed, suddenly very close to him.

“You should eat something so you’re not ill on the morrow, Saesha,” he corrected.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes. Her eyes were red and glassy from the wine.

“I think I’d like to leave,” she said in quiet Valyrian.

“Where would you like to be instead?” He replied in the same tongue.

She was quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Somewhere quiet,” she decided.

Aemond scanned the room, looking for his mother. He didn’t find her. Otto Hightower stood at the far end of the room observing the dance floor while speaking to some Lord Lannister.

He took her by the arm, leading her up the stairs to the throne, passing the mass of swords and out the door looming behind it. It was immediately dark, and so much quieter. He let go if her arm, but quickly felt her hand grabbing at his. He smiled to himself in the darkness.

He led the way until they came out the other end and into torch light. The corridor that stretched to either side of them was empty, and a wide balcony overlooking the sea was in front of them. Saesha took the lead now, walking out into the moonlight. Aemond followed.

She took a deep breath, pointing her face to the sky with her eyes gently closed.

Ethereal.

Aemond didn’t know what was happening to him. Never had he been so captured by any woman, never had he been so distracted. It felt strange the she was truly to be his wife.

“How do you really feel about all this?” Aemond blurted.

She opened her eyes, looking at him with a hint of curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he replied. “How does it make you feel to be marrying me in two days? To live here in King’s Landing?”

She looked out at the dark sea, shrugging. “I suppose I feel indifferent, now. I used to be very angry, but it’s exhausting to be so angry all the time.”

“Do you miss Dragonstone?” He ventured a bit further.

She nodded, a sad smile on her lips. “I do. I enjoyed flying over those bluffs. I like the castle as well, and the land was good for exploring.”

There was a comfortable pause, the distant sound of waves crashing far below. “We could go and be at Dragonstone, if that’s what you wanted? There’s no one there to claim it, and it’s ours—yours by right. I’m the second-son, there’s no reason to stay.”

He didn’t really know why he was offering this. Aemond didn’t want to live at Dragonstone, he’d prefer to remain in King’s Landing with remnants of his family. But maybe it would make Saesha happy. It’s not like he couldn’t just fly back if he needed to.

Saesha looked at him with what looked like genuine endearment. Her eyes were glossy and she held her clasped hands up to her chest. She took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them.

Aemond breathed slowly, trying to remain calm at their sudden proximity. She gazed up at him, and Aemond felt the last bits of his restraint beginning to tear. Much to his relief—and enormous surprise—it was Saesha who leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Her lips were as soft as he’d anticipated, and the way they moved against his had him suppressing a growl. He cupped her cheeks with both hands, angling her face toward his. She sighed happily into his mouth, standing on her tip-toes in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Aemond gave in only for a moment, indulging himself, before forcing himself to pull away.

Her lips were swollen, and her face was flushed. She looked up at him with confusion, and a little bit of disappointment. “I shall wait to explore you until after our wedding,” he said.

Saesha groaned, rolling her pretty violet eyes. “You seriously want to be traditional? After everything that led us here?”

“If you think about it,” he said, smirking, “we’re being about as traditional as we could get. We’re marrying each other in the custom of our House, and in a more Westerosi manner, we’ve been arranged together for political gain.”

Saesha’s annoyance cracked with a smile. They remained on the balcony for a long while, talking, catching up, learning what the war had made of each other.

Aemond walked her to her chambers, bidding her a good night before retiring himself. He went to bed that night relieved, and feeling capable handling tomorrows tourney.

-TAGLIST-

@hopebaker

@snh96

@kaelatargaryen

[itshelia]

Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

[winnysplayground]

“he’s so babygirl”

babe he just killed somebody.

[artnoonewants]

Poor delusional Viserys 😔

[ladydreamfyyreee]

𝐀𝐥𝐲𝐬 & 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐈𝐈, 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚, 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚, 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚, 𝐌𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐫, & 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝟔 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 : ( @𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲𝐭𝐨𝐦𝟎𝟕𝟏𝟐 )

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Lust for love. // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader.

Summary: Aemond's life has always been a bitter and sour one, the only sweet thing in his life was you, his wife, perhaps too sweet for his liking, yet he neglected you in the past but a series of events lead you both together into love.

WARNINGS: mdni, smut, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, interrupted orgasm, horny aemond, martial duties, clit stimulation, tiddy succin, body worship(?), gentle and kind aemond but he gets rough during sex, + not proofread, lmk if I missed any!

WC: 2.9k

A/N: divider credits @cafekitsune

The cold breeze brushed against Aemond's face as he walked hastily towards your chamber, his boots clacking against the stone floor heavily while his heart banged in his ribcage.

He was feeling light headed, unable to form any thoughts and only the words of the maester rang inside his skull from earlier. ‘Your lady wife seems to be sick’ he had informed him and those mere words were enough to make Aemond spurt up from his chair in the meeting room and immediately rush towards you.

Aemond, frankly, did not know why he was feeling anxious at the information that you were sick, he did not even like you much and only merely married you for the connections and benefits your family provided.

You were just a mere duty to him, so when did he start caring about you?

He stood in front of your chamber door waiting anxiously as the guard gave him a bow before he opened the door, the mental hinges creaking as it slowly moved. He steps inside hurriedly and immediately lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you sitting up. You just stare at him confused.

“Husband? What are you doing here?” The tone of your voice indicated surprise, because Aemond had never visited your chambers even once since the beginning of your marriage and only called you to his chamber when he wanted to consummate.

“I had been informed by the maester that you were sick.” He replies nonchalantly, tone betraying the true feelings that were whirling on the inside. He wanted to get close to you, embrace you.

“I'm not with child.” You reluctantly tell him while looking down, suddenly feeling as though you are a disappointment. It felt humiliating to tell him that, especially when he came all the way to your chambers, he probably expected that you would be with a child.

Except that was not the case.

Aemond was confused on why you were bringing up that topic now, but then it clicked in his head and he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention before shaking his head, “Oh no, wife, I wasn't here because of that.. I was worried.” He admits and your eyes widen in shock.

Worried for you?

For as long as you can remember Aemond never seemed the type to show affection or concern for anyone, perhaps it was due to his past grievances, you had only heard about his eye through rumours, he never opened up to you about anything. You were a duty for him, someone he needs a legitimate heir from; because it is not as though he doesn’t have whores to seek pleasure from so what is the use of you? ; or at least that is what you had assumed and questioned.

But to Aemond, you were his sweet gentle wife, he was afraid of hurting you, in his vision, you were like a white swan, pure, elegant and graceful, he did not want to scare you lest you fly away from him. He did not know when he started perceiving you in this way, but as time went on, he had developed quite a soft spot for you.

“My apologies, Lord husband, I did not intend to worry you.” You apologised, he shook his head gently. “No need to apologise, how are you feeling now?” He questions and you simply blink at him, “I'm well, better than before.” You reply with a soft smile. Aemond's lip curved upwards slightly as he nodded, “Very well.” He says in a dismissive tone.

Awkward silence falls between you both as you look down, he clears his throat before speaking, “If you'll pardon me- I have to—”

“Would you like to take a walk with me?” The question leaves your mouth in a hurry before you could stop it, a desperate attempt at clinging onto this fleeting moment of affection. He seems slightly taken aback but he nods his head, “I'd love to.” He replies and you nod, stepping in his direction and standing next to him. “Shall we go?” You inquire, “Yes, wife.” He answers and you wait for him to take the first step, which he does; and soon you follow him out of the room.

You both stroll down the garden, admiring the scenery, the breeze was gentle today, and the weather seemed perfect, Aemond linked your arm in his, holding you close to him.

Your skin was soft to the touch and it drove him insane, he couldn't help but stare at the way your breasts pushed up against the material of your dress, he never really properly fucked you like you deserve.

Yet now, he just wants nothing to do but push you against the castle wall and fuck you relentlessly in the garden. Aemond realised that he never heard you moan, or show any type of reaction when he consummated with you.

He wondered how your soft voice would shriek in pleasure, calling out his name in pleasure, how you'd cling so tightly to him, he wished he could witness such a sight. He wished he hadn't gone to whores to receive pleasure while he left his wife dry. He missed out on a lot of things due to his decisions.

He mentally made a note to stop visiting brothels as it would taint your honour, he could simply seek the same pleasure from you. He became more bothered as his imagination went wild.

“... husband…? husband…!” He snaps out of his imagination, looking at your confused expression, “Y-Yes? Please excuse me, I was lost in thought.” He apologises and you give him a soft smile, “You were saying something?” He asks and you nod, “I was thinking about; well; if you excuse my rudeness, I realised we don't know much about each other.” You truthfully tell him.

Aemond furrows his brows in question, “What do you mean by that wife?”

“I want to get to know you, husband.” You stare at him in the eye and his eye widens slightly, and just then he recalls the memory of Aegon's words.

“That woman in the brothel knows more about you than your own wife, don't you find it amusing?” He was taunting Aemond, and at that time Aemond ignored those words, but now that you've openly admitted that you don't know him much made his heart shatter.

“Of course wife, what do you wanna know?” He decides to let his guard down, ready to tell you whatever you ask for. “Everything.” You reply, biting your lip anxiously, your hand travels up to his face, caressing his cheek before you trail your thumb down his scar. He knew what that implication meant and he smiles at you in a gentle manner, his own hand coming up to grab your wrist.

“Of course.”

Days pass by just like that, your marriage with Aemond had improved tremendously after your little effort to get to know him better, you felt bad for him when he began to reveal such vulnerable things, yet you never judged him.

He had shown you all of his vulnerability so openly, from the matter of his eye to everything else. You listened in silence, and he appreciated that.

As Aemond grew more comfortable, he began to show his emotional side, which included both his vulnerability and anger. He would utter treasonous things about his own brother.

This night was one of those cold nights, the cold breeze flew into the martial chambers you were waiting in, the maids prepared you for the consummation as they do, you and Aemond consummate according to your moon cycle since your only duty is to provide him with a heir.

And besides, he probably did not want to lay with you in an intimate manner, or for pleasure. You felt insecure because of that.

You were scared that after all this progress, everything would return to the same way it was before because of this night, you doubted that it would happen but your thoughts plagued you.

You winced when you felt the maid tug at a hair strand accidentally, “Sorry my lady.” She apologises to you, “It is alright.” You respond softly, you stare at your own reflection in the mirror, eyes trailing down your features.

The door to the chamber opens, and Aemond strides in hurriedly, the maids quickly finish fixing you up and leave the room immediately, you get up from your seat and turn around to see Aemond undoing his clothes.

“Let me help you.” You offered, usually he would decline and continue to undress himself, and you expected that again, but his actions shocked you.

He immediately dropped his hands to the side and turned to look at you, waiting for you to walk over to him and help him. You blinked rapidly before rushing over to where he stood before you stood in front of him.

Your hands immediately began to work on removing his vest, your fingers delicately undid the loops, you were too focused on the job that you failed to notice Aemond's piercing gaze. He watched with intent as you worked on removing his clothes, his eye taking in your form. His breeches felt tight.

You pushed his coat off his shoulders and peeled away the vest, revealing his tunic beneath the layers, his garments fell to the ground with a shuffle, you stepped back, leaving him in his undergarments.

He grabbed the hem of his tunic before he pulled it off and then began to undo his breeches, untying the strings. You took that as a gesture to lay down on the bed, facing up.

This is what you did when you both consummated before, you would lay down, he would spread your legs, insert himself, finish and leave.

You expected that to be the case, but you were surprised when climbed on top of you, his face right in front of yours, platinum locks curtaining around you. He stared at your lips for a moment before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his.

You were surprised, and didn't know what to do, so you stayed still, but he bit your lip, indicating his disappointment at your freezing up, and so you immediately tried to mimic his movements.

Your lips danced against his, yet it couldn't match the fervent passion he moved with, it was desperate, intimate and most importantly, filled with love and lust.

All your prior insecurities melted away under his warm lips which were filled with desire and want, he wanted you, he seeked you out.

You both pulled away to catch your breaths, his lips were glossy from your saliva and slightly swollen. Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest.

Aemond moved your night off your shoulder before ripping it apart, revealing your breasts which you immediately covered out of instinct. But he gently grabbed your wrists and pinned your hands to the side of your head.

He leaned down, tracing kissing down your jawline, to your neck and to the soft flesh of your chest. His hot breath against your bud made you shiver in delight.

He hooked his tongue on your hardened nipple before engulfing it with his mouth, you let out a squeal of surprise at his actions but you didn't stop him.

He suckled on it gently, using his teeth to trap the bud in between before licking it with his tongue, he grunted in delight, his grip loosening one of your hands, freeing it from his hold.

He grabbed your unoccupied breast with his now free hand, giving it soft squeezes and playing with the bud, rolling and pinching it. You were new to this, not having any understanding of what was happening, after all, you've only read about it, never experienced such intimate acts yourself.

You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, you realised how sticky the area felt, and how it made it difficult for the friction of rubbing to work.

He notices this, lets go of your breast with a pop, he smirks before he rises off from you and settles in between your legs, this was the position you were more used to.

He spreads your legs wide apart, pulling up your nightgown, revealing all of you. He pressed his thumb against your clit which made your breath, you stared at him confused until you felt him rub small circles upon it.

Your body felt pangs of delightful stimulation, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling, all of this was foreign to you. Aemond takes a deep breath before he closes in on your cunt, before licking a stripe upwards to your clit. You jolt from the sudden pleasure.

Aemond wrapped his lips around it, sucking on the bud slowly, you whined, grabbing his head for support as his mouth worked wonders down there. You tasted absolutely divine to Aemond, your essence trailing down his cheek as your body produced so much of it. You whimpered, thrashing around lightly as his warm tongue flickered with your bud.

Aemond's tongue swirled around your clit before he captured it with his mouth once again; “Oh! Yes!” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure when you felt him nibble on your bud. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth rose in your lower abdomen, you felt as if there was a fire inside you, waiting to combust any moment.

Just when you feet the flames beginning to erupt, Aemond stops his manoeuvres, putting out the fire, you furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering why he stopped.

But when you looked at Aemond, he seemed like an entirely different being at that moment, he had risen up back to his haunches again taking deep breaths almost as if he was trying to contain himself.

He was.

He had never felt such an overwhelming of desire in his body, every time he touched you; his mind scrambled into pieces, he wanted to fuck you so badly.

“Aemond?” You call out softly, confused, wondering if he was disappointed by your behaviour but it seems to snap him out of his daze and he stares at you. “I apologise; I'm finding it hard to control myself.” He admits his thoughts.

“Then don't.”

Aemond swore he heard you wrong.

“What?” He questions you.

“Don't try to Aemond, Don't hold yourself back, I want this, I want you.” You admit shyly.

The atmosphere fell silent for a second and you could feel the awkwardness from your own words beginning to sink in, that was until Aemond moved suddenly.

You shrieked as he pulled your hips onto his lap, wasting no time in inserting himself, you gasped at the sudden stretch, feeling yourself become full of him. You grabbed onto his shoulders for support.

He held your waist tightly, grabbing onto your hips for leverage as he began to move, thrusting himself in and out.

This was a movement you were familiar with, yet somehow it still feels new because of the strange sensation, it felt more intimate and passionate, his thrusts held meaning and it was as if every time he pushed inside you; he was reaffirming his love and desire for you.

He pushed you into the mattress, grabbing your legs and shoving them to your chest as he thrusted hard, his skin slapped against yours loudly, the room echoing the noises.

You threw your head back at the sensation, and you felt the fire in your stomach rekindle and you couldn't help but desperately chase it. “Ah, right there.” You moaned, feeling him hit a sweet spot inside you that fueled the fire in you, you gasped for air as every thrust of his knocked it out of your lungs. “You feel so good, you're driving me insane, wife.” Aemond grunts, his thrusts never once faltering.

Everything about this night together was very different from the previous ones, Aemond had never felt this good and neither have you, he regrets not trying to get to know you earlier. He felt like he was in heaven with the way you clenched around him.

He felt his high approaching, and he desperately ran after it thrusting deeper inside as he groaned and moaned.

Your body jolted up and down the bed and you felt the fire beginning to spread out slowly, you closed your eyes, when you felt the fire suddenly go out, you were confused but as Aemond thrusted one more time it erupted in your body like volcano, coursing through your veins and to your mind.

You moaned loudly, grabbing the sheets and arching your back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intensity, you have never felt this way before.

Your vision went completely white before you could see once again, you felt Aemond finish inside you, his cocking twitching as he spurted his seed deep inside you.

“Seven hells.” He groans, riding his orgasm off, you watch as he clenches his eye shut taking deep breaths.

He looked so ethereal.

He immediately falls down next to you, catching his breath, he pulls you close and kisses you on the forehead, “You did so well for me.” He praises you, and you blush shyly.

Neither of you moved from the bed, having no intention to.

Typically Aemond would leave the room right after.

Yet he didn't.

He was stroking your shoulder gently as you dozed off, head resting on his shoulder.

He looks at your closed eyelids and thinks you're asleep.

“I love you.” He confesses, realising his true feelings.

Your lips quirk up into a smile before you open your eyes slightly.

“I love you too.”

You then doze off into slumber immediately, Aemond's heart picks up its pace, embarrassed and shy that you had heard him, but your response made him smile.

[crownofdecitreadingrespectfully]

Why do writers apologize for long fics? why aRE YOU SORRY FOR FEEDING US POOR, SORRY SOULS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK WE COULD EVER DREAM OF READING?? DO MICHELIN STAR CHEFS APOLOGIZE FOR COOKING THE MOST DIVINE FOOD EVER MADE??? DO THEY APOLOGIZE FOR NOURISHING OUR BODY AND SOULS????

[bl00dlight]

In light of recent events...

I would like to say that if yall want to SEND ME A REQUEST FOR SOME WRITING. Send them in. Okay let's freak it. I'm so in my fun writing era so send in some requests. Or just send me ur thoughts. I'm hyperfixated on HOTD so I WILL be interested.

[hauntedfictionland]

You're serving cunt? There's a war going on and you're serving cunt?

Gif: @hoosbandewan, @peachysunrize

[itshelia]

My mom to her friends, my aunts, and literally everyone she knows: Yeah, my kid is so smart. She is on her phone a lot of the time, but it's not like you guys think, She is not like how kids nowadays are, She reads a lot of books on her phone!!

Me, a fanfic reader who can survive off nothing but just words and day dreams herself to sleep:

[winnysplayground]

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

i think we need to work on you first.

[bailadeluna]

men will literally do home renovations on a whole ass haunted mansion before sending a raven to his wife and children

[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

[ophelieverse]

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

alicent, aemond and helaena in the season finale.

credits for this art drawing to @paiges_of_art