#aemond x targaryen!reader

[rosenyras]

The Night of Feud and Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon ( Strong ) Female Reader

Summary: After Aemond stirs up the Dragon’s Dinner with his taunts, you go and search for him to give him a piece of your mind. However, the night ends very differently than you had planned.

Warnings: Nsfw, typical Targaryen inc*st, language, slight violence, slight choking, Aemond is rough, overstimulation

Notes: I used a Valyrian translator so apologies if it’s not correct!

To be truthful, you were just about done with every one of your family members.

Your brothers - more so Lucerys - despite being your bestest of friends had never irked you more so than tonight. You had wanted so badly for this dinner to go smoothly, especially after the heartfelt speeches both Alicent and your mother spoke towards the other. But the men in the family clearly had other plans.

By the time you had seen Lucerys’ teasing smirk towards Aemond, your foot kicking into his leg to abruptly stop him came too late and the long haired blonde had already embarked on his disguised digs towards Rhaenyra’s children. His part towards you, however, was slightly different - if not a bit basic - even though the obvious reference to Harwin Strong applied to you as well.

“To my beautiful niece, Y/N, I hope the days ahead of you treat you with kindness. And to my nephews …” And the night fell in sure swiftness after the rest of his words were alight in the air.

When the boys began their scuffle, you had originally wanted to intervene more so to get Aegon’s hands off your little brother. Though he was a nuisance, you were quite protective of him. However, a hand on your arm and a warning look belonging to your great uncle, Daemon, refrained you from doing so.

After all of you were dismissed to your separate bed chambers, only an hour had passed before you decided to leave. You did not blame Aemond for the retaliation in his own right, but the constant digs that he threw you and your brothers about being bastards over the last couple of years had rooted itself in your gut and would not ease unless you confronted him about it.

Aemond and your brothers war of words were one thing, to be entirely truthful you did not forget how Aemond was often tormented as a child, but most of that was derived from Aegon, and he did not show that same aggression towards his brother. And to you - you did not understand it.

You and Aemond were so very close as children, being outsiders in your own right - you, a girl amongst brothers and him, a dragonless child that was often picked on. You defended him from Aegon, and your brothers knew when to quiet so not to face your wrath. You also allowed Aemond to be close to your dragon, Rhyxia, so he could at least satisfy his yearning for a dragon.

In turn, he taught you the way of a sword - in secret of course. You were not allowed to join public practice due to the sole reason of your gender, so he would use whatever he learned in lessons to teach you how to defend yourself. The two of you had an undisclosed agreement of sorts, yet you had never been happier than when you were together.

And then, the distance grew when your mother announced your family would inhabit Dragonstone. Once the year passed and you and Aemond were reunited once more by way of Laena Velaryon’s funeral, it was as if no time had passed at all. Until your brothers and cousins engaged in a fight that took his eye.

You were not there during the attack, but you knew when you heard of the word he had chose to spit in the face of Luke and Jace - and by extension, you - your childhood bonding would be forever fractured. And as he stood with his mother and you yours, you never imagined yourself alone with Aemond again. Until now.

As you shut your door, you were instantly met with your assigned guard. He was a lovely young man, but as your eyes lay on him irritation grew within your bones. “Princess Y/N, where are you headed at such a late hour?”

Biting your lip, you deigned him a response that would indeed be unsatisfactory. “Ser Rolland, I just wish to go for a stroll alone, if you’ll excuse me…”

As you made to take a step, he placed a hand in front of you. “Your mother instructed I stay with you, I’m sorry, my lady.”

You loved your mother dearly, but right now you had to refrain from rolling your eyes at her overprotectiveness.

“Well, we best get a move on then, Ser Rolland.”

As you strolled the hallways, the sound of moving armour dawned each of your steps. It soon became clear to you in your want to keep the secrecy on where you were headed would be of no use, and besides, you couldn’t exactly remember where Aemond’s quarters were now, especially if his rooms had changed.

Turning to your guard, you placed a small smile upon your lips. “If you may, Ser, could you please escort me to Prince Aemond’s chambers?”

A single blink was all you received in terms of facial expression as your guard responded. “Of course, my lady.”

As he took charge, you followed Ser Rolland for quite a distance until he stopped outside a door that held a guard posted outside. So Aemond had changed his rooms. Interesting.

As you approached the door, you decided a knock would be more pleasant than simply barging in on your uncle, no matter how much you wished to do so. If he were to be indecent and you stumbled upon him with no clothes … you shook your head to get rid of those thoughts as your face warmed with embarrassment.

A faint call of ‘Enter’ was your only preparation before you opened and stepped inside Aemond’s room.

You noticed him immediately, sitting in front of a fireplace, his back towards you. You could only see the slightest hint of his face, his eyepatch calling to you as if serving you of a memory you would much rather forget.

“How may I help you, niece?”

His voice spoke louder than the crackling embers dancing in front of him. You clasped your hands behind your back, deigning your voice to remain as steady as possible. “How come you know it is me, uncle?”

Aemond’s head turned towards you in the slightest move that he might not have even moved at all. “Only you knock in such a pattern, Y/N. I have not forgotten.”

You couldn’t help but scoff slightly. “Yet it seems you have forgotten what I once was to you. Are you often in the company of remembering the knock patterns of bastards?”

Silence fell, the tension so heavy that you could easily slice it. And just as suddenly, Aemond stood, as if he couldn’t help but remind you that he towered over you even from afar. As he spoke, he crept closer and closer towards you - as if a magnetic pull was driving the two of you closer.

“You know those insults irk your brothers more so than you, it is why I speak them. Did you not say as a child you had no care for who your father was and by extension that word had no effect over you?”

Well. Damn.

To be truthful you did not expect him to remember such a throwaway comment and in such detail, perhaps you should know better than to underestimate Aemond Targaryen.

“You are right, but perhaps my expectations that you would have forgotten about this childhood melodrama were foolish-”

Not a second passed after those words left your mouth that Aemond had grabbed hold of your waist and pushed you up against the closest wall. Your back thudded with the impact, more so shock from not expecting such a move.

It was a low blow, of course it was, but you had not forgotten that Aemond had not even looked at you the night his eye was taken, as if acknowledging your presence was beneath him from that point forward.

Aemond placed a hand next to your head, caging you in with both his body and his glare. “Your brother took my eye and I swear, I will take revenge for that. You should be content that I did not do more tonight.”

Your eyes briefly flicked down to his lips but you forced yourself to keep eye contact with him, not allowing yourself to flinch away. Instead of replying in English, you flicked your tongue to Valyrian. “Ao would ōdrikagon nyke, Aemond?” You would hurt me, Aemond?

Aemond slightly tilted his head downwards before raising his eyes towards yours. “Daor ao, aōha brothers.” Not you, your brothers.

“Naejot ōdrikagon ñuha brothers iksis naejot ōdrikagon nyke.” To hurt my brothers is to hurt me.

Aemond immediately drew himself closer, his breath mingling with yours as he lifted his right hand up to your throat, to do what, you did not know.

All you replied with was a small whisper. “Kostilus, Aemond.” Please, Aemond.

And that seemed to break him.

Closing the short distance between your lips, Aemond crashed his mouth upon yours, not caring about the smashing of teeth - almost like he was desiring the slight pain. His left hand remain caged against your head while his right enclosed around your throat with the slightest pressure as if it was in every inch of his desire to control you.

A slight whimper escaped you, the heat of anger and wanting building up inside you as you tried your best to convey that within the kiss. Once your mouth departed with that slight noise, Aemond didn’t miss a chance before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, your tongues not so much as dancing but instead his just completely dominating yours.

You lifted your hand against his cheek, the rough leather on the straps of his eyes patch rubbing against your skin. And as suddenly as you had placed it there, Aemond used the hand that was against your head to grab both of yours, lifting your arms up and holding them against the wall.

The sudden impact caused you to gasp, moving your hips subconsciously forward, instantly feeling the effect you were having on Aemond with his hardness stretching tight against his pants. In return, Aemond let the slightest of sighs slip between his lips as he moved his mouth towards your neck, tugging on your earlobe and using his tongue to run its way up and down your skin.

“I’ve wanted you since we were young, Y/N. My heart has always belonged to you.” His right hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek. “Ziry va moriot kessa.” It always will.

“Aemond, I-” before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Aemond took ahold of your arms and dragged you towards his bed, placing you on it before making his way on top of you so the two of you were eye to eye.

“I need to hear you say it, Y/N, that you want this.”

“I do,” you breathed, your words no more than whispers. “I want you, Aemond.”

Giving you one final look, Aemond began moving his way down your body until he was face to face with your clothed lower half. Your dress for the night had been one that was easy to slip on and so you had no other expectations as Aemond quickly slipped it off and with it your undergarments. As you lay completely naked, your nipples hardening with the fresh air, Aemond’s eyes rove over every inch of your body, as if you were a meal he wished to take his time with.

As he lifted his hands towards your thighs, separating them to get a good view of your cunt, slight whines escaped your mouth with the need to be touched. Aemond’s fingers circled around your inner thighs, drawing closer and closer with such a teasing touch.

“Seven hells, Aemond, please just-”

Your whine was soon cut off with his lips upon yours and with it, his fingers finally found your cunt. Considering how wet you were, it took you by no surprise as he easily found his way to your clit, circling it with such ease that you nearly exploded right then and there. His mouth managed to silence most of your moans, but they soon were unleashed as Aemond moved to one of your nipples and began licking and softly biting at it.

It was soon after that he slipped a finger inside your entrance, moving with such efficiency that an added second wasn’t far behind. He soon moved to your other nipple, continuing the same movements. It was after he fitted a third finger inside did he speak.

“Jaelan naejot rȳbagon skorkydoso olvie ao jorrāelagon nyke, isse Valyrīha.” I want to hear how much you need me, in Valyrian.

You whined in defiance slightly, but you were too far gone to refuse altogether.

“Ao gīmigon skorkydoso olvie nyke desire ao, Aemond. Emā va moriot known ziry. Just, please-” You know how much I desire you, Aemond. You’ve always known.

Suddenly, Aemond removed his fingers from you, making you annoyed with displeasure. His raised his hands to his lips, tasting you while remaining eye contact. Having enough of being the only presence in the room without clothes, you quickly tore at his leathers to get rid of them. You just wanted to be close to him.

Once he was rid of his clothes, he hooked your leg around his body, lowering you on the bed as he hovered over you, the two of you simply staring at each other was enough to make you content in the moment. As you lifted your hand to his face, you spoke in a hushed tone. “Take me, Aemond. Make me yours.”

And that he did. Aemond placed a singular kiss on your lips as he directed his cock towards your entrance, pushing in as he rested his forehead on yours. His hand that wasn’t fisted in the sheets beside your head made its way to your clit, circling it to relieve some of the pain.

Your breaths were getting louder by the minute, slowly turning into moans as Aemond moved back and forwards, easing into you more with each thrust. As you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, pulling him even more closer to you - if that was possible - you breathed out, “Aemond… please.”

Taking that as a sign to go faster, he began moving with more urgency with every thrust. It was as if he was conveying how much passion he had for you with how direct he was with snapping his hips against yours. As the seconds pass and your moans became louder and louder, both of your release on the edge, you couldn’t help but slip out, “I love you.”

Aemond’s head was buried in the crook of your neck, his hitched breaths and slight sighs abruptly stopped, but his hips sure didn’t. Aemond began thrusting with sudden urgency, the bed creaking against the wall. The hand that was gripping your thigh began pressing harder, something that was surely going to leave bruises the next morning.

Your release crept up without warning, exploding with such urgency that you couldn’t help but yelp. Aemond, however, didn’t let up on his pace. At first you thought he was helping you ride out your orgasm, but then it became clear he had no intention of stopping. “Aemond-“

“Did you mean it?” His hips slowed to a steady pace as he raised his head to look you in the eye, his only sign of pleasure was his hitched breaths. You instantly knew what he meant and you didn’t even try to deny it during the midst of such pleasure.

“Yes, fuck, yes I meant it.” Your nails began raking down his back as you couldn’t help but chase after another orgasm. Aemond didn’t waste a second before fastening his pace, wanting you to reach the height of your pleasure before he came.

“Fuck, Aemond!” You would feel sorry for every pair of ears in close proximity to you, but right now the only focus was your second orgasm rippling through every part of your body. You soon felt Aemond cum inside you, his only hint of outward pleasure was a low grunt escaping his lips.

Still inside you, Aemond once again placed his forehead upon yours, placing his lips on yours with such contrasted gentleness to the pace of his hips moments before. He made sure to look you in the eyes before speaking.

“It is true for me too, I love you with every inch of my being, Y/N.”

[lcverwrites]

aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader (daemon's daughter) drabble

note: am I playing into the over popular trope of making reader daemon's daughter: yes, I am. am I sorry about it: no I am not.

"No one could love a cripple" Aemond sulked, placing his hands below his chest, feeling the subtle rise and fall of each breath he took.

His alabaster skin was still tickled pink with splatters of blood, the thick oozing had subsided after the Maester had stitched the clean slice across his flawless skin. The stitching zig-zagged across his skin, protruding in places and sinking in others. The dark black thread starkly standing out against the pale hue of his skin. Starting from his temple, coursing down the right side of his face, right over his once violet eye, down to the middle of his cheek.

Right over his once violet eye.

It wasn't something to gloss over, Lucerys had slashed Aemond right across his eye, taking the damn eye with it. There was nothing left behind to salvage, so the Maester had said, he was lucky the blade did not go any deeper.

She shuddered at the thought, loosing an eye was a terrible misfortune, but she would be forever grateful that Aemond was strong enough to survive it.

"I won't listen to you speak so terribly about yourself" She retorted, seating herself on the edge of Aemond's bed, placing her hands gently in her lap.

"'Tis nothing but the truth" Aemond hummed lowly, his single eye stared blankly at the ceiling.

Whatever thoughts that carried their way through his mind, she was not privy to them. She bit her tongue, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him, her Aemond.

The boy she knew, the one who lurked beneath the scared surface, who hid behind his brooding and melancholy thoughts, the boy who couldn't keep a single thought from her, the one person in the world who was nothing but truthful with her.

But now, it was as if she were talking with a stranger. Someone she no longer knew, he was guarded in a way that was strange to her, she wasn't able to see past the solid walls he was starting to build.

"No, it is not true, I won't let you believe that is the truth" She was firm in her words, no stuttering to be found, though she felt as if her heart was about to leap from her chest, nervousness tickling her skin.

"How can you prove something that is so plainly shown" Aemond's voice lowered, sounding as if he was on the verge of bursting into tears, but holding himself back from further humilation.

There was nothing to be ashamed of, not with her.

"You forget yourself, my prince" She replied simply.

"There isn't a woman in the seven kingdoms who would take a second glance at a boy with a scar as hideous as mine own" Aemond finally looked at her.

Her breath caught in the back of her throat, stilling her heart for a mere moment. For the first time since the prince had returned to King's Landing, he showered her with his unbridled emotions. There were so many things swirling around in those violet hues, so many emotions.

She could hear the bitterness pouring from his words, sticking to every syllable that passed his lips. She could see the hatred shading his eyes, stormy and crackling. Like lighting striking the earth beneath her feet, like embers of a flame licking at her skin, it was a searing sort of hatred.

But there was fear, a coldness lingering in the deep hue of his eye, like he was fighting off the sharp, howling winter winds from the North. A frigidness in the way his shoulders sat, straighter, almost vexing, preparing for the foulness he was handed by those whom were supposed to care.

"You lay claim to the largest dragon in all history" She reasoned gently, her stare never faulting from his gaze, despite the intensity of it. "Vhagar wouldn't allow anyone to claim her, less they be anything but extraordinary"

She wanted him to know, she wasn't afraid of his maimed appearance.

"Means nothing" Aemond denied, clenching his hands in tight fists.

"I hardly believe that Aemond" It was her turn to scoff. "You are the son of the King, Prince Aemond, first of his name--"

"And what!" Aemond exclaimed, sounding angry, finally letting something slip past the sturdy walls. "I'm supposed to be okay with my future lady wife only loving me for riding the largest dragon, or for being the son of the king"

"Perhaps, my prince, you should allow me to finish" She didn't allow his raised voice scare her, she straightened her back, looking at the prince with a fierceness that faltered him. + "I mean, those things are only a fraction who you are, you are wise beyond your years, far better with a sword than most of the knights in King's landing, and you are a mere boy, imagine what you shall be like, a man of extraordinary talents, you shouldn't allow a silly little scar--

"'Silly little scar' you think this deformity is merely a simple little scar?!" Aemond cut off the Princess against, sounding aghast at the thought of his wound being compared to a silly little scar.

"Lest you forget my Prince, I am still a Princess, I'd take back the tone of your words"

She wasn't going to let Aemond walk all over her, just because his melancholy thoughts were eating him alive, didn't mean he had the right to treat those who care for him, as if they were dirt beneath his boots.

He was welcome to be upset about the wound, she'd find him odd if he didn't grieve the loss of his own eye, but he was allowing his grief and anger over take him.

Blinding him to what he may become.

"This scar has taken my eye from me, and any chance of living anywhere close to the realm of normalcy" Aemond disregarded her praise, turning his gaze from her face to the tight fists his hands had knowingly formed.

"We Targaryen's are beyond the realm of normalcy" The Princess denied once more, tilting her head a fraction, as she watched a subtle pink hue painted Aemond's pale skin. "We are gods among men, lest you forget"

"No god has a scar like this" Aemond sounded defeated now, tired, depleted of energy to try and fight back.

"Only those blessed by the old gods and the new" She felt herself smile a little as she watched Aemond's eyes slowly trail along the length of his bed, finding her still perched on the edge of the bed. "Those they deme worthy, survive with a mere scar to prove their strength"

Aemond remained silent at her words, but the icy glare had subdued in his violet eyes, gaining a millimetre of warmth.

For a moment, she could see her Aemond, slipping past the façade he was creating.

"There are still people in this very castle, whom love you, scar and all" She replied easily, knowing it to be true.

"My family are the least of my worries" Aemond brushed off with a simple shake of his head, wincing a little as the action tugged at the puckered skin of his face. "They are stuck with me"

"Perhaps" The Princess' voice carried a gentle tone, sounding just above a whisper.

She reached a soft hand to grasp Aemond's closed fist, making the prince jump, breath catching in the back of his throat. She made no moves to remove her hands from his, keeping a barely there touch on his hands.

"I however" She paused her words, and for the first time, she had trouble keeping her gazed locked on Aemond's, feeling heat pinching at her cheeks. "Can choose where I shall reside, and there is no place I would rather be, than by your side"

"Please don't grant pity on me" Aemond whispered, looking deep within her violet eyes, trying to find an inkling of deceit, only to come up empty handed, and feeling his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.

"Never pity, not with you, my Aemond" Her smile was warm, like the feeling of being welcomed home, of the warm summer sun tickling his skin, of being loved wholeheartedly without restraint.

She pressed her palm firmly against his fist, opening the tight hold he had. His resolve melted like butter beneath her palm, hand falling open without fight, without complaint, willing and able. Just hearing her call him, her Aemond, there was not a more thrilling feeling.

"My heart, will always belong to you"

She could feel her own heart beating beneath her skin, rapid and heavy, jumping and leaping. The confession felt light on her lips, like breathing in the freshest spring air.

"And my scar. . ." Aemond was timid in tone, but his hand moulded around the Princess', holding it gently.

"It has never wavered, and it never shall"

[genz420]

The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 90: The Queen Of The New Age Of The Dragon.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part 

138 - Harrenhal   

Aemond had relieved Ben of staying with Visenya shortly after the two had finished their conversation.   Ben was happy to leave the room, leaving the two Targayens alone while he checks to ensure that Rob had been handling everything for the coronation.  

Aemond and Visenya had not spoken a word to one another, both silently minding their business until Visenya had tried to get dressed on her own.  Aemond had silently helped her, tying the dress's corset, helping Visenya with her shoes and stockings, and then making her sit down so he could do her hair.   

The dress is truly beautiful, the fabric is the deep red of the Targaryen sigil, and the dress hangs off Visenya's shoulders, leaving her neck and shoulders bare.  The many scars and burns on her skin are on display for all to see, and Aemond can’t help but feel a sense of pride.  The dress is void of both black and green, wanting to display the only loyalty that Visenya has, and instead of the trimmings being Black like her old dresses, it is gold.  Visenya had chosen to add the old belt chain that Alysanne had gifted her years ago.  

Aemond can’t help but run her hand gently through Visenya's hair, his fingers splitting some of the curls.  He could braid her hair in some elaborate design, but he has been given strict orders from Rob not to; the lords want the crown he has made to be the centrepiece and not to be outshined by Visenya's hair.  

The feeling of Aemonds hand in her hair is enough for sleep to call to her.  The simple gesture of Aemond braiding her hair and taking care of her is nice, and she knows that the moments like these might not happen again.  His presence makes her feel safe, and she knows that so long as Aemond is with her, she is safe and can relax.  

Aemond smiles as he looks down at his wife, her hands neatly resting in her lap as she leans into his touch.  Aemond watches as her chest rises and falls, his eye lingering a little too long on her chest that her dress so beautifully shows off.  

But the relaxing moment between husband and wife ends as what sounds like two people knocking on the door echoes in the room.  Aemond watches as Visenya wakes up from her doze, covering her mouth as she yawns and looks towards the door.  

Aemond gently rubs his thumb over the exposed skin of her neck before moving to answer the door.  Visenya runs her thumb where Aemonds once was as she stands up.  

Aemond can’t help the groan he lets out as he realizes who was knocking on the door. He leaves it open as he makes his way back over to Visenya, his arm wrapping around her waist once he is close enough to her, and he moves her in front of him so that she may rest against his chest.   

“Why are you two here?” Visenya asks, her hand moving to rest on Aemonds, whose hand is resting on her stomach.  

“Maybe we just wanted to see our fourth and fifth favourite Targaryens,” Ben answers as he closes the door behind him and Rob, he can’t help but smile to himself at the two Targaryens the way that Aemond holds Visenya against him like the two men are coming to take her away.  It almost reminds him how Laenor and Daenys protectively hold their toys to keep the other from taking them.   

“Fourth and fifth?” Aemond asks, holding Visenya closer to him.  He knows that the second they leave this room then, everything is going to change, and the longer he keeps Ben or Rob talking then, the longer he can just hold his wife.  

“Obviously, Laenor is number one, as he will be the best warrior the known worlds have ever seen.  Then the babe because he is inheriting from his Hightower side, so I am going to take some pity on him.  Then Daenys, who will marry my little nephew, makes her better than you two.    Visenya fourth, and that leaves you fifth,” Ben answers, he has his favourites, and while he might be having a little fun with Visenya and Aemond, he would never tell them his actual order of favourite Targaryens.  

“I am once again asking why you two are here?” Visenya asks, smiling at the little rant of Ben's logic.  

“Beside insulting us,” Aemond says in a tone low enough for only him and Visenya to hear.  Visenya can’t help but let out a slight snicker at his words, grabbing his free hand to place a light kiss on his palm.  

“The lords are waiting for you,” Rob answers this time, his words only half the truth, and he prays to his gods that Visenya doesn’t keep asking questions but instead just leaves with them now so that he doesn’t have to make up more lies.  

“I thought the meeting wasn’t until later,” Visenya comments, her eyebrows scrunching together as she looks between Rob and Ben.  She was wanting to spend more time with Aemond and maybe their children before the final meeting and her departure tonight.  

“It is,” Ben agrees, not caring for lying to Visenya.  Instead, he would rather just have them tell her why they want her to leave early with them.  

Visenya looks between her two closest friends, watching as Rob gives Ben a look of anger. The two had not agreed on a lie or made a plan about what they were going to tell her.  

“What are you two up to?” Visenya asks, watching as Rob nervously shifts his weight on his feet while Ben only rolls his shoulders.  

“Why would you possibly think that we are doing anything?” Ben asks.  

“Never in our lives would you be doing something behind your back,” Rob says, and everyone in the room knows that his words are a flat out lie.  That Ben and Rob had done many things behind her back.  

“Have I told you that you look beautiful in that dress?” Ben asks; part of him hopes that either his questions or compliments bombard her to forget about any suspicious behaviour.  

“Very beautiful,” Rob agrees, and Visenya knows they are hiding something from her.  

“What are they planning?” Visenya asks Aemond; she knows that he must know what is going on. 

“Why are you asking me?” Aemond asks rather than answers.  He will not be the one to fumble the bag and tell Visenya, knowing that Rob would get back at him for exposing the secret.  

“Because you were the one to pick out this dress,” Visenya answers; she had thought that maybe Aemond had just wanted to see her in a lovely dress before she left and perhaps he wanted to take it off her later, so that is why he picked it out.   

“I picked it out because I knew you would look beautiful in it,” Aemond tells her, knowing that it might be enough for her to stop directing her questions to him and instead her two friends.  

Aemond is right because Visenya looks away from him and towards Rob, her eyes narrowed, and she knows that she would sooner get information out of him than Ben.  Rob thanks all the gods that Aemond is holding Visenya for fear that she might lunge for him to get the information she wants out of him.  

“Rob?” Visenya asks.  

“Don’t look her in the eye,” Ben whispers to his friend, wanting to lighten the mood but also because he knows Rob would break if he did.  

“The lords are waiting for you because we are leaving tomorrow, and they wanted to do something,” Rob tells her, trying to dance around the truth as much as he can.  

“What do they want?” Visenya asks; she isn’t finished making sure everything is in order before her departure.  

“I made you a crown,” Rob answers, but his voice is barely above a whisper and so quiet that even Ben is having difficulty hearing him.  

“What?” Visenya asks; the mumbles and quiet tones sound like nothing but nonsense to her.  

“I had a crown made for you, and the lords want to have a coronation before you leave,” Rob speaks up clearer, looking at Visenya to see her reaction to the news.  

The other two men in the room wait to see what Visenya does if she agrees to go ahead with the coronation.  Aemond can feel Visenya's heartbeat quicken against his chest, and he can’t help but brace himself for her reaction.  

“Okay,” Visenya says, nodding as she looks at Rob.  

“Really?” Rob asks, he had expected her to put up more of a fight against this, and he had prepared a whole speech to convince her that this is a good idea. 

“You want me to change my mind?” Visenya asks him; she knows that doing this means so much to the people that follow her.  If she finally gives in to what they want, they might fight harder for her.  

“Gods no,” Rob answers as he straightens out his clothes.   “Making this crown has been a pain.  Come on, no time for Aemond and you to have some alone time, people are waiting.”

Visenya can’t help but roll her eyes at Rob's tone and eagerness.  Aemond doesn’t bother telling Rob off for making a comment. Instead, he just unwraps his arm from around Visenya and offers it to her, which she gladly does.  

Ben smiles at the two; if Visenya and Aemond can make it through everything going on, then he and Helaena may have a chance.  

“Ao ȳdra daor emagon naejot gaomagon bisa,” Aemond whispers to Visenya as they leave their room.  He knows she never wanted to be queen but also hates the public gatherings that come with being part of the royal family.  

You don’t have to do this. 

“Skoro syt? Gaomagon jaelā naejot se pāletilla?”  Visenya asks, a smile on her face telling him that her words don’t have any mean intent behind them.  

Why? Do you want to wear the crown?

Visenya keeps her eyes forward as they walk, trained on Ben's head because if she were to look at Aemond, then she wouldn’t be able to make little jokes but instead tell him the truth about how she doesn’t want this.  

“Nyke ȳdra daor pendagon kessa ñuha bartos,” Aemond answers.  

I don’t think it would fit my head. 

– – 

Rob had worked hard in making the ruined hall of Harrenhal look presentable, fit for a royal coronation.  The hall is no Dragonpit but is far nicer than the funeral grounds of Dragonstone.  Rob had also gained the help of Corlys, who gladly gave his service.  Rob had luckily found a few remnants of the few objects from the naming of King Jaehaerys heir.  

The hall has been lit by many candles and roaring fires around the room; Rob is also glad that the weather cooperates with them.  No rain, no wind, just clear skies and a warm breeze.  

Visenya had kept her head high when she and Aemond entered the hall, wanting to appear strong, but in reality, she hasn’t felt these nerves since her wedding day.  She could feel everyone's eyes on her, lords, knights, soldiers, and just the people of the Riverlands staring at her.  They all want her to do this, but she can’t help but feel like her grandsire is going to pop out of nowhere and yell at her for doing this like she was stealing lemon cakes from the kitchen when she was younger.  

And as she kneels before Rob, her eyes closed as she keeps her breath steady; all she can feel is the burning stares on her back.  She fears that if she opens her eyes, she will back out of this or make eye contact with the Velaryon.  

Rob can’t help but look at Visenya with worry, giving Aemond a glance to see if they should continue.  The soon-to-be King Consort nods for Rob to continue.   Rob wiping his hands on his pants to clear them of any sweat.  

Rob doesn’t think he could be any prouder of something than he is the crown. The crown is simple, unlike the one that Aegon or Rhaenyra wears now.  Instead of being the same shape as the two crowns, more elegant and fitting to Visenya.  Black metal that twists up to match almost horns, a smaller pair sitting slightly under the larger one.  Both pieces came to meet at a point that would hopefully rest in the middle of Visenyas forehead.   A piece of the red gem from Visenya's sword meets the two pieces.  

Rob had put thought into the crown; he knows that she takes pride in the things she had made for herself.  The two metal-like horns represent her two dragons, and the gem is from the sword she has had with her through everything.     

The crown is light in his hands, reminding him of Visenya's sword.   The hand turns to hold the crown up above his head and towards the crowd.  The words that Corlys had told him repeat in his head; he doesn’t want to be the one to fuck this up. 

“I now proclaim Visenya of House Targaryen, second of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men.  Protector of the Seven Kingdoms!” Rob shouts, his words echoing around the hall, and he moves and places the crown on Visenya's head.   “The Dróttning’daishar!”

Visenya finally opens her eyes and looks towards Rob, slightly asking her friends if she can stand up now.  The crown is heavy on her head, and she wishes she knew what it looks like.  Rob holds his hand out towards Visenya, smiling as she places her own in his.  Rob helps her help and lifts her hand in the air.  

“Long may she reign!” Rob tells the crowd he prays that the hall repeats his words or else it would be a little embarrassing.  

Visenya looks towards Rob before towards the crowd.  She doesn’t want to say anything but the way that Rob holds her hand up is doing nothing but shoot pain through her.  

“Long may she reign!” The room repeats, once and then again and again. 

The crown. 

Taglist: If you wish to be added to taglist please comment so!

@kassies-take @tempt-ress​

[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.

[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????

[hauntedfictionland]

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

Gif: @hoosbandewan, @peachysunrize

[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

[lcverwrites]

aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader (daemon's daughter) drabble

note: another drabble featuring targaryen!reader from my last aemond drabble. aemond might be a little ooc in this drabble, still trying to get the hang of writing him. but i quite liked writing the dialog betwene these two, it's cute and fluffy and all things warm.

also, my requests are open! so if you have any ideas you wanna send me, i'd love to have them!

The wind was whispering against her ear, sweet and delicate, wrapping around the silver strands of hair, inviting her beneath it's wings. Offering her a respite from the summer sun, a heat so blistering it left her red cheeked and achy. But filled her with a warmth unlike anything she'd ever known, the sun was a gift she played sparingly with.

She lounged beneath an old weirwood, back pressed against the white trunk, smooth bark touching the sliver of skin that peeked through the neckline of her dress. The grass felt cool beneath her fingers, picking up a strand from the darkened soil beneath, twirling it between her fingers, allowing the blade of green grass tickle her fingertips, before letting it fall right between the gaps, landing with a silent flutter.

Another easy breath of air passed around the girl, allowing her to close her eyes, picturing herself upon the back of her dragon, air rushing into her lung, feeling the wind beneath her metaphorical wing, lifting her higher and higher, till everything below her looked more like smudges of dirt than a giant castle.

"Careful, or you'll float away with your thoughts"

His voice was one that brought a smile to her face, with her eyes still closed, she pictured his stoic form standing before her, hand held behind his back, head held a little higher than most, back straight and tall, shoulders squared and tight, ever the picture of strong royalty. That leather eye patch covering his scar, though it peeked beneath the darkened and aged brown leather, a sign of strength and victory, at least to her.

So princely and perfect.

Except for the smile, that little tug on the corner of his lips, just a little. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you might have missed it, or mistaken it for a certain smugness that came from being the son of a King.

But she knew him, better than most could say.

She knew that look, a look solely reserved for her, and her alone.

Her eyes fluttered open and she was graced with a beautiful picture, a picture that deserved the careful had of an artist to capture, but she was no artist, so she had to commit it to memory.

She'd pictured him so perfectly in her mind, that when her eyes opened, she wasn't surprised to be right. Seeing him standing so tall before her, looking like the Prince he is, all taunt and agile. A sword tucked to the loop of his belt, dressed in the finest of black leathers. Silvery stands of air swept back from his face, shimmering in the rays of glittering yellow sunlight, giving him an aura of softness that he often lacked.

And there, right on the corner of his lips, she spotted it, that little kiss of a smile staring right at her.

"Do think it weak of me, to want to float away?" She asked in a soft voice, tilting her head a little, looking up at Aemond with a smile, all buttery and soft.

"That depends, I suppose" Aemond pondered. "To where are you floating too?"

She grinned, a soft and gentle kind of smile, as Aemond played into her little moment of whimsy.

"To wherever the gods allow me" She shrugged, feeling more carefree than she had in weeks, sitting beneath the weirwood with the sun beneath her skin and the wind in her hair.

"I think you have spent to much time in the sun, Princess" Aemond's smile trickled to the rest of his lips, gracing her with a smile so rarely seen.

An action to be treasured.

A heart-warming affection he saw fitting to gift her, one she'd welcome with open arms, hoping to coax more than he'd give her.

"Perhaps" She hummed in return, turning her face up a little, allowing the sun to trickle down her face. "But it is so lovely and warm, wouldn't you agree?"

"I think the sun has brain washed you" His retort was dry and humorous.

"I agree" The Princess spoke with playful certainty, closing her eyes as she bathed in the sun. "There isn't much hope left for me, I'm afraid my Prince"

"Hmm"

It was a sound more than a response, behind her eyelids she pictured his eye following her relaxed movements, his shoulders relaxing without his knowledge.

"I should like you to join me" Her words were soft once more, airy and smooth, but teetering on the edge of something more.

"Sir Cole is waiting for me in the training grounds" Aemond's response was rehearsed, a retort he'd often used when she asked him to join her.

It was a start to a game she knew well.

"And yet, you stopped to speak with me" Her smile was wide, all teeth, joyfulness painting her sunned features. "It seems training is an unimportant task during your day"

A huff met her ears, she knew she was wearing him down, though it did not take much these days, not with her, not with her Aemond.

"I assure you, it is not" Aemond replied in kind, voice wavering for a moment, but only a moment.

So quickly that one might have missed it, but she was waiting for it, this was her opening.

And so eloquently, she pounced.

"Then, allow Sir Cole to wait a few more moments" She was firm, but her smile was wide, it was hard to decipher weather she was serious or not "So you may enjoy to summer the way it should be enjoyed"

But Aemond knew her, knew the game she was playing, they'd played it so many times before. If he were a stronger man, he might have turned his back the moment he spotted her beneath the weirwood, but he couldn't deny himself the simple pleasure that was her.

So he played in return, knowing how the game would end.

"You are a rather demanding woman" He spoke with a certainty that left her smug.

She loved when he fell into the palm of her hand, grip made to fit his perfectly.

"It's the Princess in me" She shrugged innocently, truths slipping into her words. "I've been pampered my whole life, being denied something is not a reaction I'm accustomed too"

"So I've gathered" Aemond huffed a little, a breath laugh that fluttered in her ears.

"So why don't you indulge a spoiled Princess..." She replied, tilting her head down a little, eyes opening to spare the stoic Prince a glance.

For a moment, she expected to see his expressionless face in her vision, a face she'd grown to rather fond of. But she was pleasantly surprised as her gaze met his, a smile painted his lips.

It was wide and charming, boyishly so. Her breath paused in her throat, her heart thudding so loudly in her chest, she might think it would leap right out from under her skin and flutter away with the breeze. The corners of his lips turned up, gifting her with more than she expected, that kiss of a smile still ever present.

"If Sir Cole comes looking for me, I hope you know--" His words were teasing, light-hearted and playful.

"That you shall blame me and my wily way with words, that I have bewitched you body and mind?"

She caught herself before she fell anymore, lest she might not find her words, they were her weapons in their battle if wits.

Aemond huffed another laugh, deep and throaty. His lithe and roguishly handsome figure sauntered to her, taking up her summer sun for a moment, before he indulged her, allowing his body to sink into her shade beside her.

Their bodies side by side, not even an inch could be seen between them.

Here, alone under the weirwood, the lovers could freely touch, only the gods as their witness.

His leather clad thigh pressed against the silks of her skirts, her shoulder pressing against his chest, ever so slightly. She leaned a palm against his thigh, keeping her body upright, while is warm winded around her waist, calloused hand pressed firmly against her hip, holding her frame against his own. With a delightful sigh, she leaned her head back against his shoulder, feeling him nudge her with his chin, head tilting, nosing through the silver strands of hair atop her head, before his lips grazed against the smooth skin of her temple.

"You have bewitched me" His words were no more than a whisper, enough for only her ears, lips brushing her skin with every syllable.

She waited on bated breath for more. For anything.

"You've bewitched me, mind, body and soul" Aemond continued, gently stroking her waist, she could feel his lips turning up into a smile, brushing against her temple. "Everything that I am, belongs to you"

"I fear" She started, reluctantly lifting her head from his shoulder, tearing his lips from her skin. "That the sun is melting your mind, my love"

Aemond laughed, freely, openly, no longer hiding behind his stoic façade.

"Perhaps" Aemond echoed her response. "But I quite like how soft the sun makes you, my sweet dragon"

"How romantic of you" She preened under the compliment.

"Only for you" Aemond commented, tilting his head a little, pressing his forehead to hers.

Feeling her warm skin against his own. She tilted her own head, allowing her nose to brush against his, their lips but a breath away. Her breath stuttered out, no matter how close she'd get to Aemond, or how often they'd found themselves in an romantic embrace, she'd never quite get used to the way her heart would sing for Aemond. How her brain would turn to much beneath his gaze, her words dying on her tongue.

She wondered if she'd ever rendered Aemond so useless in the same way, if he found himself finding it hard to catch his breath or that his heart was beating so harshly, he wondered is it was going to jump out of his chest and into her awaiting hands. Or if he felt the same warmth she did, touching every inch of her body.

Aemond's nose nudged hers, worming her out of her thoughts, bring her back to the present once more.

"You were floating away again my love" Aemond said softly, violet eye looking so longingly at her.

"Floating with thought of you" She mused, brushing her nose against his in return.

There beneath the weirwood tree, the two lovers nudged ever closer, embracing their lips in a romantic kiss.

[genz420]

The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 86: Rulers Of The Sea.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part

138 - Riverlands   

Visenya has missed dragon riding. It is not the same as riding to war, but the simple moment with Morghon and Cannibal is enough for her to cry.  The wind through her braided hair as she closes her eyes to feel it fully.  

Morghon seemed more than happy to go on a ride, being gentle and not as fast as he usually was when they would go on their rides.  Cannibal had joined her and Morghon in the air shortly after they had taken off, flying slightly above them but still close enough where he cast a shadow over them.     

Everything was peaceful for a moment, just the presence of her dragons and the open air.  A much-needed escape from the stress of war and the exhaustion of her new title.  

But that peace is quickly ruined as a dragon flies passed Morghon, sending Cannibal into a frenzy but Morghon into a happier mood.  

Unlike Aemond and Ben, Visenya immediately recognizes that dragon.  Having spent her early years learning how to ride a dragon with him on Morghon.  A rage fills her as she spots a rider on Seasmoke; she will not hesitate to kill the person that has claimed the dragon that once belonged to her father and was meant for one of her children to claim. 

It seems that the person riding Seasmoke is leading Visenya and Morghon toward a clearing, and she happily follows them, with Cannibal flying closer to Visenya and Morghon.  

Laenor thanks all the gods so that he can find Visenya on a dragon ride rather than having to see her during a war meeting or on the battlefield.  He wants nothing more than to hold his little girl.  

The black shadow that is Morghon flies close to him and Seasmoke, but Laenor doesn’t worry for a second about the dragon hurting him or his dragon.  What does concern him is the riderless dragon that flies slightly above Visenya and Morghon.  

Seasmoke quickly lands in the clearing, and Laenor jumps off his dragon.  It felt good to be in the air again, one of the things that he has missed.  Laenor makes his way into the meadow's centre as Morghon lands, followed shortly by the bigger dragon.  Laenor can’t believe his eyes as Visenya dismounts Morghon and makes her way toward him. 

“Visenya?” Laenor asks, not wanting to believe that the sweet little girl he once knew is now a fully grown and scary woman. 

Visenya instantly reaches for her waist, reaching for a weapon that isn’t there.  Her sword probably still lies against her and Aemonds bed, and her dagger that had once belonged to her father had been left behind on Dragonstone.  

“Who are you, and why the fuck do you have that dragon?” Visenya asks; she wishes she had listened to Aemond and Ben about bringing a weapon or one of them with her, but she feels that two grown scary dragons behind her would be more than enough to keep her safe.  

But Morghon seems rather excited about the older dragon, leaving Visenya and Cannibal to greet Seasmoke.  Cannibal, on the other hand, stays close to Visenya, eyeing the new dragon as a snack.  Cannibal will happily rip apart the dragon if he gets too close to Visenya.  

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Laenor tells Visenya, she might be a queen to some, but that didn’t give her any right to say such words.  

Visenya looks at the man in bewilderment; she doesn’t know who he is or who he thinks he is to tell her what to do.   Laenor has to hold himself back from laughing at the face Visenya pulls at his words; she has always been prideful and strong-headed.   

“Excuse me?” Visenya asks, wondering who this man thought he was to be telling her what to do.   “You are in my territory, and I will not hesitate to send you back in pieces to that bitch,” 

“I’m not working for the Blacks,” Laenor tells Visenya, not commenting on the name-calling of Rhaenyra.  

“So the Greens are working with Dragonseeds now.  How ironic,” Visenya assumes, laughing at herself.  She knows how much Alicent detests basterds, so if she and the Greens are recruiting dragonseeds is comical.  

“I am Addam of Hull.  I wrote to you about claiming Seasmoke and aiding in your cause,” Laenor tells Visenya, he knows that he should tell Visenya the truth, but he can’t help but wonder how badly she will take the news. 

While Morghon doesn’t sense the anger radiating from Visenya, Cannibal does.  Cannibal eyes Saesmoke; even if he had indulged in the past week on dragons, he would be more than happy to take the smaller dragon out and drag its carcass back to his nest.  

“Cannibal gīda ilagon.  Konīr iksis daor ōdrikagon kesī,” Visenya tells Cannibal, resting her head against his neck.  She doesn’t know if the dragon is the same as Morghon and loves physical touch, but the low rumble he lets out says he does.  Even with the contact with Visenya, Cannibal doesn’t stop eyeing Seasmoke.   “Issa daor havor!”

Cannibal, calm down.  There is no danger here.  He is not food!

Morghon looks away from Seasmoke and towards Visenya, wondering if she is talking to him, but as he sees the hungry and agitated Cannibal, he backs away from Seasmoke and moves back towards the pair.  

Laenor watches as Visenya calms the scary dragon, seeming to calm down, still eyeing Saesmoke and him.  Laenor feels like if he moves one small muscle, the dragon will jump and swallow him whole.  The lack of dragons around Dragonstone scared him, but as he studies the dragon more, he understands why.  

The deep black scales littered with scars and the piercing green eyes tell him who the dragon is.  But the way that he seems to wrap himself around Visenya, almost blocking her entirely from view and the fact that he doesn’t attack the young Morghon makes him wonder what the relation Visenya has with Cannibal.   

“That’s the Cannibal,” Laenor comments and all three dragons are quick to look to the sky, and Laenor follows their eye line.   “And that is Vhagar,”

“Fuck me,” Visenya mumbles to herself as she looks back at Cannibal, watching as any progress that she has made in calming him down vanishes.  Cannibal and Vhagar don’t get along with each other, and since Cannibal is already on edge because of Seasmoke, she knows that one of the dragons is going to get attacked.   “Sōvēs!”

Cannibal lets out a huff at Visenya's command but does listen to her.  Moving away from Visenya and Morghon before taking off into the air, as he does, Vhagar lands in the clearing. Morghon is the only happy creature at Vhagars arrival, greeting the older dragon and leaving Visenya's side.   

Aemond thanks any gods that might be listening as he finally finds Visenya; the two large dragons had been a dead giveaway to her location. The dragon that had flown over Harrenhal was, in fact, trying to find Visenya, and Aemond can slightly make out a small person that stands in the clearing.  

Aemond barely gives Vhagar a chance to land before he makes his way off the dragon, drawing his sword once his feet hit the ground.  Aemond almost runs to Visenya, his eye searching for any wound that she might have, and Aemond's eye lingers on the braces on Visenya's hands and arms.  Aemond brings his sword up and points toward the man as he gets close enough to Visenya.  

“Who are you?” Aemond asks as he slightly pushes Visenya behind him.   “Umbagon inkot nyke,”

Stay behind me.

Visenya rolls her eyes at Aemond's command, but instead of pushing him away and yelling at him for thinking she can’t protect herself, she wraps her hand around his forearm, which holds her back.  Laenor watches the two, the way that Visenya has relaxed and looks at him softly and how Aemond seems to be protecting Visenya as Cannibal had.  

Laenor holds back a smile at the way Aemond talks to Visenya in High Valyrian.  He remembers her begging him to bring Aemond to one of her lesions so that he would learn the language with her, and it seems that he had learned it on his own.  

“Iksan sȳz,” Visenya tells Aemond, but he doesn’t care.  “Iksan able naejot gūrogon hen nykēla,”

I’m fine. I am able to take care of myself. 

All Aemond can think about is what might have happened if he didn’t get here in time, if he would have lost Visenya and if this man might have tried to hurt her.  Relief that had filled him once he saw that she was okay and unharmed, with her dragons protecting her.   

“Daor mijegon aōha egros se aōha paktot sir,” Aemond tells Visenya, and Laenor eyes widen as he notices the way Aemond hand rests on Visenyas's stomach, holding her back.  

Not without your sword and your state right now.

“You’re with child?” Laenor asks, and both Visenya and Aemond look away and toward him.  

The two would be used to Ben or Rob asking them that question but a stranger or someone they don’t remember asking them that question shocks them both.  Aemond looks away from the stranger and towards Visenya, specifically her stomach, where his hand snuggly rests.  He had subconsciously rested his hand there, and Aemond can feel his mind racing about the possibilities.  

“What?” Visenya asks, not understanding where the man had gained the audacity to ask that question.   

“He said that you can’t protect yourself in your current state,” Laenor answers, his hand slightly questioning Aemonds hand, which Visenya moves away at the realization of where it is.  Part of Laenor hopes that she is and that he might be able to be there for her pregnancy, but then again, they are at war, and Visenya seems like she would want to be on the front lines no matter her state.  

“You speak High Valyrian?” Visenya asks, trying to step closer to the man, but Aemond moves in front of her.  There is no way that he will let her get near that man in the first place, but if she is with child, then he will keep as much space between them.  

“Are you with child?” Aemond asks, his voice soft and full of hope.  They might be at war, but the chance of having another child fills him with so much excitement and joy.  

The look that Visenya does not, though.  

“Aemond?” Visenya asks, turning her head to make sure that he is being serious.  Aemond shakes his head in response, not wanting to upset her, but he can’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Visenya looks back at Laenor, her demeanour that she had before Aemond arrived.   “You speak High Valyrian?”

Laenor watches the young couple, the way that Aemond changed entirely at the mention of Visenya's possibility of being pregnant, and his whole wall seems to drop.   He hasn’t seen that kind of reaction, not even when Rhaenyra had told Harwin of her pregnancy.  The pure look of love and hope that had shined in Aemonds eye when he had asked the question.  

“No?” Laenor asks, slightly unsure if he should tell Visenya and Aemond the truth and who he is or if he should keep the identity of Addam of Hull going so he might be able to return to Esso.  

It seems like that snaps Aemond out of his little daydream, remembering that there is a stranger with a dragon standing before them.  Aemond raises his sword back up, ready to cut down the man if he needs to, but Laenor just eyes the prince.  Laenor might be out of practice with his sword fighting skills, but he has more expanse than Aemond, so no doubt he would be able to disarm him if it came down to it.  

“Who are you, and what are your intentions?” Aemond asks, keeping his eye trained on Laenor, and Laenor can’t help but shiver at the look in Aemonds eye.  

Laenor raises his arms, showing the two that he doesn’t mean to draw his weapon or hurt them.  But the longing dragon behind him only sneaks closer; while Morghon doesn’t seem to care about Seasmoke, Vhagar does.  Laenor can only imagine what Cannibal would have done to protect Visenya and Aemond.  

“Put down your sword, boy I mean no harm,” Laenor tells Aemond, and he realizes that his words might be the best, that the prideful man might take offence to it.  

Laenor is, in fact, right about Aemond taking offence at his words.  

“How dare you speak to me that way; I am husband to Visenya Targaryen, second of her-”

“Aemond, shut up,” Visenya cuts off Aemond, moving in front of him and closer to Laenor.  “Who taught you high Valyrian?”

Visenya can’t deny that the man looks familiar, that his dark purple eyes match hers.  The same eyes Corly would always tell her that she inherited from Laenor.  The man claimed that he is a dragonseed, so the fact that he has purple eyes only furthers his claim, but the lack of hair makes her wonder.  But there is something about his face that makes Visenya's stomach turn.  

“My father and mother,” Laenor answers, and he watches Visenya's mind work.  It seems that she is putting together the pieces in her mind.  

“And who are they?” Visenya asks, the pieces coming together, but she needs him to admit it before she outright accuses him.  

“I think you know who,” Laenor answers and Aemond can’t help but watch the two talk, wanting to understand what is happening and who this man is.  

“Visenya, who is this man?” Aemond asks Visenya, turning his body slightly away from Laenor and leaving his side open for an attack, but he doesn’t care at the moment.  

“Go back to Harrenhal,” Visenya tells Aemond, her eyes pleading with him to just listen to her.   

“I’m not going to leave you defenceless,” Aemond tells Visenya, his face close to hers as his breath hits her cheek.  

Laenor watches Aemond with a close eye; they might be married, but the idea of Aemond so close to his daughter doesn’t sit well with him.  

“Then give me your sword,” Visenya tells Aemond, knowing that it might bring him some peace of mind, but she would not be able to hold it.  Unlike herself, Aemond doesn’t have a Vlayrian steel sword, so it is a long chance that she would be able to hold it up and use it.  

Aemond quickly hands his sword over, the metal of her braces making a sound as she grabs hold of it and lets it go to her side.  

“If you are not back within the hour or if Vhagar tries to bring me back-”

“I’ll be okay,” Visenya assures Aemond, leaning up and giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.   “Avy jorrāelan,”

I love you.  

Aemond studies Visenya's face, her eyes pleading for him to leave and return to Harrenhal.  He could leave the meadow but have Vhagar fly around it to make sure that she is okay, but that would probably lead to them running into Cannibal, with whom Vhagar might pick a fight.  

Aemond nods and looks at Laenor, his mind trying to figure out where he recognizes him, but he can’t.  Aemond looks down at Visenya's hand; the way she is pointing it at the grown tells him that she can’t support the sword, but he knows that her having some kind of sharp object would give her the advantage if it came down to a fight.  

Aemond lets out a hum before making his way back to Vhagar; he will tell Ben everything that has happened once he has returned, and he knows that the knight might be able to give him some answers.  

Visenya and Laenor watch Aemond leave, Visenya waiting until Vhagar leaves the meadow to ask her questions while Laenor is happy to have some alone time with his daughter.  

“You are going to tell me your name,” Visenya tells Laenor, sticking the tip of Aemonds sword into the ground.  She wants to hear him say who he is, to know that her mind isn’t jumping to conclusions about who he is.  

Laenor smiles to himself at her commanding tone.  He remembers when she was once too scared to talk to people in public, but now she is telling him what he is going to do, and he can’t help but notice that it is the same tone Daemon would use with his soldiers in the Step Stones.  

“Well, look at you, miss bossy-”

“I will kill you,” Visenya cuts Laenor off.  She wants to scare him and put the fear of the gods into him, but as she tries to pick up Aemonds sword, she can’t, it being far too heavy for her wrist to support and heavier than her own.  

“You’ve changed,” Laenor tells Visenya, not phased by her threat.  

“I didn’t change; I grew up. Without you,” Visenya corrects Laenor; she wants to know how he is alive and standing before her.  

“Ñuha dōnas-”

“Don’t call me that,” Visenya cuts him off; she calls her children by that nickname because she thought that her father loved her just as much as she loves her children, but now she can’t help but doubt that he ever cared.   “How?”

“How what?” Laenor asks; he knows that Visenya probably has questions for her, and he wants to ensure that he answers the questions she asks.  

“How are you alive?” Visenya asks, not understanding how he is standing in front of her.  

“I never died,” Laenor answers; he will tell Visenya the truth to any questions she asks, even if the answers hurt her.  

“You left? Did you hate your life that much?  Were we not good enough for you to stay? I don’t understand-”

“Your mother and Daemon wanted to marry, and I was the only thing standing in their way,” Laenor cuts Visenya off, not wanting her to think he didn’t love her and that she wasn’t good enough. 

Leaving his children was harder than convincing his parents that he was dead, but he knew that Daemon would be more than happy to take over his father's role, giving him peace of mind.  That Jace, Visenya, Luke, and Joffrey would grow up with two parents that loved them and each other.   He wanted them to have a healthy environment to grow up in, and even if he and Rhaenyra had an understanding, he knew that the children would grow up to realize that they didn’t love each other.  He wanted his children to marry someone they love and strive for a relationship that they knew best.  

“So they made you leave?” Visenya asks, her voice breaking and Laenor wonders if leaving was the best idea.  

Visenya wants so badly to be angry with him, for her anger to be the only thing she feels, but it isn’t.  The thoughts of her not being good enough flood her mind. She means nothing to him and has failed as a daughter.  Visenya can feel the tears in her eyes, and she does her best to blink them away.  

“I never belonged here,” Laenor answers, and he knows that it isn’t a good enough answer for Visenya, but it is the only one he can give.  

“So you just abandoned us? You were our father and left like we meant nothing to you!” Visenya asks, and she can’t feel the anger licking up her throat like fire.  She will not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry and only allow him to see the anger he has caused.  

“I wasn’t really-”

“You were! Jace was the only one old enough to understand that you weren’t.  Luke was so young that he didn’t understand why you weren’t there.  And there is Joffrey, the son you named after your beloved, who only knows you because of me!” Visenya cuts him off; how dare he say he isn’t her father?  She has spent her whole life defending him and making sure his name wasn’t solid, but maybe she shouldn’t have.   “Daemon tried to take your place, and I defended you, but you left me!”

“I wanted you to have the best life you could, and Daemon could have given you that,” Laenor tells Visenya, his voice soft, and if anything, it just makes her feel worse.  The same soft and gentle voice that would tell her bedtime stories and sing the same songs she sings to her children.  

“Well, he didn’t.  I resented him and Rhaenyra because I thought they had murdered you,” Visenya tells Laenor before moving closer to him.   “I went to war because I wanted nothing more than to join you at sea, but your body isn’t even in that casket,”

“I’m sorry,” Laenor tells Visenya as he tries to calm her down.  “I wanted you to have the best life you could, and you have gotten that,”

“I named my son after you,” Visenya tells Laenor, but her words are more to herself. “I tell them stories of you”

“‘You can not tell me that my leaving did not give you chances that you wouldn’t have had if I stayed,” Laenor whispers to Visenya, but she just shakes her head.  

“We’ll never know,” Visenya says before she turns her back to Leanor, Aemonds sword weighs heavy in her weak grip.  

The idea of killing Laenor pops into her mind.  No one would know, and Morghon and Cannibal would be able to stop Seasmoke from hurting her.  Everyone thought he was dead, so killing him now wouldn’t mean anything. 

“Where are you going?” Laenor asks as he walks closer to Visenya, knowing that Morghon wouldn’t hurt him.  Visenya doesn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her face as she breathes heavily.  

“Back to Harrenhal,” Visenya answers, and Mroghon seems to understand the hurry she is in because the young but big dragon leans his body closer to the ground as she nears the ropes to climb up onto the dragon.   “I am needed, and there is going to be a meeting that I need to be there for, and my children need me,”

Laenor ignores the jag at his leaving, knowing that Visenya has every right to be mad at him. Still, part of him hopes that Visenya is okay with him coming with her and meeting the twins and Aenar.  The fact he still needs to inform his father of his return and that fact he is alive weighs heavy in his head.  

“Then I will join you,” Laenor tells Visenya; he needs her to know that he will not leave her again or leave to aid another cause. 

Visenya stills, her hand resting on Morghon's side as she feels his breath in and out.  She doesn’t want to risk him leaving and aiding the Blacks or Greens, but she doesn’t want to see his face, to be reminded that she wasn’t enough for him to stay.  Morghon looks away from Seasmoke and towards the sky; Visenya knows that it must be Cannibal flying back to check on her since it hasn’t been an hour, and Aemond wouldn’t be returning.   

Visenya takes a deep breath and looks back at Laenor, nodding as she blinks away her tears.   

“Cannibal will kill you and Seasmoke if you fly too close to me, and I will not stop him,” Visenya tells Laenor before she tries to climb on Morghon, and the dragon leans closer to the ground to help her.  

Taglist: If you wish to be added to taglist please comment so!

@tempt-ress @kassies-take​

[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.

[ophelieverse]

[dolicekiss]

Apple Of Their Eye

part two here

PAIRING: Dark! Aegon Targaryen X sister!reader X Dark!Aemond Targaryen

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni) incestuous relationship, dark!targaryen brothers, innocent virgin!reader, dubcon, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, handjob, riding, breeding, threesome, kissing, possessive behaviour, nipple play, throat fucking, drunk reader, praise, pretty much the targaryen brothers giving their sister sex lessons and claiming her as theirs.

SYNOPSIS: Being close to both your Targaryen brothers had its own perks. Drinking wine together, going horse riding and reading books. It was all a dream but when Aegon heard the talk of your betrothal, he decided it was finally time to taint you. What you didn’t expect was Aemond walking in on you indulging in your older brother’s sickly pleasures.

Giggles erupted from your lips when your sweet brother, Aegon made a weird face to encourage sweet giggles out of you. His favorite sound in the world, as he liked to address it. Your bond with both your brothers was something never seen before among house Targaryen. Fiercely loyal to each other, defensive and protective. You were the perfect trio of destruction — well, with a honeyed touch of peace.

That was your vital role.

To calm down the blood of the dragons.

You had grown so attached to one another that both your brothers denied the responsibilities of the throne, wishing to spend time with you.

You had to convince Aegon to sit upon the throne and he agreed in one go when his little sister asked for it. How could he not? You were looking up at him with such hopeful, glimmering eyes, those long lashes of yours coating the apple of your cheeks.

He often wondered if his bridled desires would break out of control one moon and find way to you?

Aemond entered the room, hand resting atop his sword as he analyzed the room, which was in shambles. You and Aegon again had enjoyed a pillow fight — pieces of feathers and cotton everywhere in the room. Pale sheets on the floor and wine spilled everywhere.

He was the youngest, yet he felt as though he was the oldest amongst you three. You and Aegon behaved like little children, even when you were younglings. Aegon and you would disturb the council members and pull hilarious pranks on them meanwhile Aemond paid them no mind.

“You two.” His voice put a hold to your giggles, your attention diverting to your brother. Your silky strands — similar to Aemond’s — were a mess. They reached your hips, only at such a young age and Aemond couldn't keep his one eye off the loose strap of your dress over your creamy shoulder.

Aegon smirked to himself, knowing well him and his brother shared their feelings about you.

You smiled at Aemond, a big grin of excitement adorning your soft, delicate features. “Aemond! Come here, have wine with us.”

He shook his head. “I have duties to tend to, sister. You carry on.”

Your lips formed a frown. “But Aemond, I miss you. You rarely ever spend time with Aegon and I. Do we bore you now, do you seek fun in planning war and those boring councils?”

Aegon nodded in agreement and Aemond shook his head, walking closer and taking a seat on the bed with you. Aegon had his head on your lap, staring at you with love sick eyes of a puppy. Your flushed state and rosette cheeks were a vision for Aemond — his callous hands aching to touch you.

“Aemond how can you neglect our beautiful sister here?” Aegon taunted, reaching out to wrap a finger around a strand of your silver hair and curl it. You smiled at him, cheeks round and Aemond swallowed. “I am not neglecting her, I am merely occupied with tending to my duties since no one else will.”

He diverted his one eye to Aegon and the older brother groaned, tugging on the single strand of your hair. You whimpered at the pain, lips puckering into a pout. “Aegon, stop it.”

“You shouldn't trust Aegon so much, sweet sister. He is all but a twat,” Aemond’s words made you turn to him and he looked away from you, not wanting his gaze to linger somewhere below where he was allowed. His own reluctance at being around you proved that he too struggled with the same demons his older brother did.

Aegon sat up now, eyes boring into Aemond’s. “And why shouldn't she? I pay her more mind, more attention than you ever would.”

“I trust him, brother. You should too, he's our king and he cares for me.” You softly spoke.

Your soft soothing voice was like the sun against their cold words. Aemond pondered late at night how their monstrous house got blessed with such a sweet little thing? Repentance was not something that came to house Targaryen — so why were they bestowed with you?

Your kindness, to the maids — the highborn ladies and even the members of the small council made you quite the perfect candidate for queen, especially when the realm loved and adored you. The sweet daughter of Viserys Targaryen, left behind to bring prosperity and love.

“Yeah, she trusts me.” Aegon said, scooting behind you. His chin nestled over the small cup of your shoulder, staring straight ahead with mischief in his gaze. “Don't you, sweet sister?”

You nodded, coyly.

He was almost taunting Aemond, being able to stay this close to you while he was busy with preparing for war. It was not fair, definitely to Aemond it was not. He inhaled a sharp breath as Aegon buried his face in the crook of your neck, accidentally pressing a kiss to your exposed skin. Your body shuddered and you quickly pulled away from him, staring at him in confusion.

Aemond felt a lump form in his throat.

Fuck, you were so innocent. Oblivious to the sick desires of both your brothers.

“Be careful, sister.” Aemond said to you, gesturing towards the other Targaryen brother. “You're too innocent for your own good.”

Then he got up, parting from your chambers, hoping that the next time he enters, he finds you all alone and not with that foolish brother of his. He did not harbor resentment towards Aegon necessarily, but ever since they were children, they fought. For a dragon, for toys and for your attention. It had been a constant battle of who'd bring you the prettiest flower first, who would be first to dance with you at feasts, who's horse you'd sit on and ride.

For everyone else it was draining but you relished the attention you got from your brothers. Enjoying each and every bit of the fight going on for you — only you didn't knew it went beyond the walls of brotherly love and they were horrifyingly obsessed with you.

Aemond had turned down every marriage alliance, not interested in securing the future of the realm if it came at the expense of being far from you. A woman would only act as a wall between the two of you and Aemond did not want any walls. He would gladly crush them, with or without the help of Vhagar.

You prepared another cup of wine to drink but Aegon was called to the council — arranged by the dowager Queen. Crestfallen, you let your brother go as he fixed his attire and departed from your chambers, after leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead.

As soon as Aegon entered the council room, he's greeted with everyone there. Each member and with a scowl on his face, he takes his seat. Evidently upset by having to leave his sister, even though he could go back to her at anytime.

“Your Grace.” Everyone greeted him, standing up and heads low. Aegon gestured them to sit and they obliged, following into their comfortable seats.

Alicent looked at the council members, knowing that the discussion they had come to would eventually upset the King. Everyone was hesitant and Aegon noticed that. He raised a brow, confused. “Are we here to stare at one another? If we are, do excuse me. I have pressing matters to attend to.”

Everyone knew pressing matters meant giving his undivided attention to his little sister.

“In order to secure house frey and gain access and control to the passage in riverrun, we think it would be best to form a marriage alliance with them.” Alicent’s words didn't actually hit Aegon how they were supposed to, as he grinned. “We cannot offer a dragon, we can offer a dragon.”

Assuming the marriage alliance was for Aemond, his younger brother not his little sister. “Great, it is about time Aemond finds himself a pretty bird too.”

He was cheerful. If Aemond was married, he would have your attention all to himself and he became overjoyed with that, a little too fast. Alicent swallowed, exchanging glances with the master of coin and the maester. Her hesitance was in existence because she did not know how maturely her son would handle to the news of sending his only sister away from him.

“Your Grace, the marriage alliance is for your sister, the Princess. House frey has suitors available and the Princess gets to choose with whom she wishes to ma—”

Aegon’s palms slammed down against the wooden table, rising up from the table. His gaze searing and his lips quivering from the sheer courage of Tyland Lannister’s, to marry his sister off without even inquiring him about it. The fact that they even thought of doing that filled him with a rage so overwhelming, he felt like burning the whole small council to the ground.

“That is my sister you're speaking of.” He reminded them. “I will have your fucking tongue for even suggesting to get her married off in the first place.”

The whole council flinched at the King’s outburst. Alicent had expected it to be a tantrum but this was more than a childish tantrum. The room was elevated with tension as Aegon panted, his body quivering from the rage coursing through his veins.

Alicent took a deep breath. “It is for the best, my King. You need to win this war and the Freys are demanding a dragon which we cannot provide.”

“So you give them my sister, like some fucking piece of coin?” He snapped, turning to her. “She is the princess of house Targaryen, my sister. I will not have you subject her to the same fate as all the other women.”

Aegon dismissed the council, walking out of there. Alicent sighed, holding onto tethered pieces of hope that maybe talking to Aemond about it would be better, since Aegon did consider him his closest blood and best sword. Little did she know she would be riling up another dragon and awakening it.

The next few hours were unbearable for Aegon. He had visited your chambers but you were nowhere to be found and when he asked your maids, he was told you'd gone out to collect flowers for the vase in your room. Countless times both your brothers had told you to either tell them or command the servants to bring you flowers — still you did what you felt.

Upon your return, you found your chambers not deserted. Aegon was there, situated on your bed. Hair a mess, tunic unbuttoned revealing his pale chest. Your brother was disheveled and you couldn't recall the time you two spent together being the cause of this.

So what had happened?

Worried and upset, you dropped the basket filled with flowers by the side of your door and walked over to him. Your purple dress, a match to your purple eyes, flowing behind like the waves of the sea. You sat next to your brother, small hands reaching out to cup his face in them.

“Brother, is everything alright? You seem upset.” You inquired and when Aegon raised his head, you saw just how devasted he appeared.

Devasted and drunk.

Your eyes noticed the cup in his hand, as well as the pitcher on the floor. Something happened at the small council, that much you figured out. But what had happened, now that was for Aegon to tell you.

Though your brother only stared at you, bringing the cup to your lips. “Drink, for me.”

You were in no mood for wine but you still obliged him, parting your lips and consuming the wine. The crimson tainting your lips red as you swallowed it, gulp after gulp. Even for you that was a lot and when you were finished, Aegon refilled the empty cup.

“Drink more.” It was a command.

You frowned. “Did I do something wrong, brother? Is this your way of reprimanding me?”

He stared at you, eyes droopy and full of glimmering lust for you — unbeknownst to you. “I want us to be drunk together, like old times. Please.”

You heard the plea in his voice and nodded, softening at the disheveled state your brother was in. You parted your lips to take sips as Aegon held the cup for you. He pushed it, more and more until the wine had overwhelmed you and drops spilled over your dress, trailing down your chin.

The red had absorbed into the purple but you finished your glass, staring at Aegon after the glass had been tore from your lips.

Aegon moved further into your soft bed, veiled by pellucid pale curtain and you followed, laying next to him. His head found comfort on your chest, a frown so evidently ceasing his features. Confusion had clouded your senses — hoping that your brother might tell you the cause of his distress.

But all he did was lay silently on your chest, feeling the soft plush of your breasts against his cheek.

Aegon swallowed the urge to press his mouth over your pebbles and suck them, burying his face deeper into your breasts. He was a mess and he knew that his mother would go against him, to secure more power and alliances with the other lords.

He could not let it happen.

He mouthed lazily at the chiffon, attempting to take a nipple of yours into his mouth. The purple fabric absorbed the saturation of his saliva, as your brother crossed all the limits between the two of you.

As if there were any to begin with.

“A-Aegon, what are you doing?” You whispered in a breathy gasp when he sucked on your peaked nipple through the cotton, his other hand moving to provide your other breast with attention.

Your back arched slightly and your breath quickened as your brother’s hands moved down to the laces which held your dress together. As drunk as you were, you still knew this was wrong yet had no control whatsoever of the situation. Once your laces were loosened enough, Aegon tugged at the sleeve of your dress and unveiled your breast.

“Brother, this is inappropriate. You're under the influence of wine, we should not—”

Aegon looked up at you with the softest look on his face, akin to a puppy. He switched his attention to the unattended breast of yours which he had uncovered, suckling on the nipple, fingers rolling the soaked one in between them. Your soft lips were parted and made the prettiest little sounds of pleasure foreign to you.

“I'm your brother, sister. If I don't deserve to have you like this when who does? Those fucking house frey suitors?” He snapped, voice fallen to a few octaves. Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, not being able to understand what he was insinuating with his words.

Your brows scrunched and your crinkles formed on your nose. “H-House frey, Aegon?”

He chose silence.

Aegon moved to lean up against the bed, his unbuttoned tunic revealing his bare chest beneath his small clothes. You watched him, your silver hair a mess — cascading beautifully down your shoulders and narrow back. Aegon patted his lap, a silent order for you to sit on it but you could only blink innocently.

Having no regards of such matters.

“Crawl to me, sister.”

You nodded, as puzzled as you were, slithering to settle yourself over your brother's lap. Both hands on his chest as your thighs sat over each side of his waist, looking down at him. This was all new to you but you were not complaining.

His hand extended to grasp your chin, pulling your face closer to him. He could see everything, all the subtle features which made you all the more beautiful. The mole neath your left eye, the way your pupils enlarged whenever you locked eyes with him, how your pretty lips quivered. “Today I will teach you how to make your brothers the happiest. You wish to learn, don't you sister?”

You eagerly nodded.

Aegon grinned. “Kiss me, my little dove.”

You obliged, pressing a kiss to his cheek and Aegon released a chuckle. In complete awe of the naivety you possessed. “Here, sister. This will make me and Aemond the happiest.”

You were hesitant with it but still leaned your head, pressing a subtle, feather light kiss to Aegon’s lips. His hunger was far from satiated as he stared at you with a hooded gaze, his blood heating up at the feel of your lips against his. He was over the moon with only a peck, he could only imagine the power of a proper liplock.

“Did I do good? Was that okay, brother?”

Aegon shook his head. “No, little dove. You have to do more, kiss more of my lips. Try to suck on them, yeah?”

You puffed out your cheeks, irritated at your own incompetence at making your brother happy. Still, you kissed him once more but this time like a baby bird trying to eat it's food with untrained beaks, you tried to suck on Aegon’s lips. Closing them around his upper lip, your saliva glossing his lips. Aegon’s cock stirred awake in his breeches at how inexperienced you truly were. An innocent girl getting ruined by her brother.

You closed your eyes, focusing at the task at hand. Aegon reached for your nape, locking it in place as he finally kissed you back. Soft kiss of yours evolved into something harsher, something more passionate and you whimpered, your endeavor to retreat declined by your brother. Your small hands nestled over his chest — trying to push him but it only strengthened the kiss, Aegon trying to drown in the sweet nectar.

“Open your mouth, little dove.” Your endeavor to speak was mistaken as consent by your brother, his tongue running over the edge of your perfect teeth — making way to your tongue. He wrapped around the wet muscle and began to suck on it, the saliva dripping from your mouth and slipping into his. Light headed you had become due to the vigorous kiss and how your brother dominated your mouth with his tongue.

Aegon soon broke the kiss and allowed you a few moments of air, staring at how swollen your lips had become. He had tasted you and it only fuelled his desire more for you. To claim you and never let anyone else's sight fall upon you. Heart fluttering at being the first man ever to put his cock inside you.

“This is what good sisters do for their brothers.” He said to you, his hands rested on your thighs and thumbs swiping across the pale skin. “You're such a good girl, my Princess. You'd do anything for your King, won't you?”

You nodded your head impatiently, doe eyes looking into your brother's purple ones. Chest falling and rising, sharp intakes of breath breaking through the silence. Aegon smiled and that was the biggest achievement for you, ever. He lifted one hand from your thigh, taking your small hand into his. Aegon loved how your petite hand disappeared into his — a perfect size you were for him.

He wondered in that very moment how you'd look taking Aemond’s cock into your small mouth, considering he was bigger than the both of you. Taller, toned from the constant training of wielding a sword. The thought of both of them taking you at once riled him up like nothing else.

Aegon brought your hand to his crotch, laying it over it. Your coy eyes widened. “B-Brother.”

“Unlace my trousers, sister.” Albeit it was an order, his tone was soft. You had never seen such a dark look in your sweet brother's eyes, violets always glimmering with excitement and happiness.

You were hesitant at first, reluctance dripping from the way your shivering fingers pulled at the soft laces which tightened his trousers. Aegon watched with a curious gaze, knowing very well he was about to defile his little sister and ruin the innocence she so wholeheartedly showcased. It almost made him sad but this was necessary, to wed you to him. Or even Aemond.

He couldn't care less who you married as long as it was one of them.

With bated breath, you loosened his trousers and then looked at him for further instructions.

“Pull out my cock, sister. You should feel something hard, that is my cock.” Your silver lashes fluttered, fingers getting to work. The second you felt something hard, skin but rigid — you grasped it to free it. Aegon hissed upon your cold touch and you retreated, feeling bad.

He was quick to reach for you. “No, no. Do not worry, for I am fine. You shall continue.”

So you did, given the reassurance, your gaze focusing on the unclothed cock of your sweet brother. Aegon reached for your hand and wrapped it around his own cock with your neath it. “I need you to move your hand, sister. Pursue my actions, this will truly please me.”

Aegon began to move his hand in slow, sensual strokes and you followed. The more you touched him, the more he lost his composure. Little sounds falling from his parted lips and his hand fell to the side over his thigh — letting you take the lead. You picked up your pace, hand undulating over his throbbing length.

Palm stained with his precum, you used it to slick his twitching cock and then moved your fingers up. A shuddered gasp of fulfillment slipping from Aegon’s mouth upon that accident. You smiled, in victory and pressed the pad of your thumb deeper into his little hole. Watching as more of the pale liquid spurted out.

The more you stared at it, the prettier you found it — shade darker than the rest of him and cock head the same pink as his agape lips. Varicose veins, a deeper hue of purple than the ones of your irises embedded in neath the flesh.

Eyes sparkling at the thought of touching Aemond in the same way, getting to see such an intimate part of him. You wished he was here, to be able to do this for him would be a great blessing.

Your mouth watered the more you gazed at your brother's glistening cock head. Without paying much mind to it, you leaned lower and closed your lips around it. Aegon’s eyes immediately snapped open when he felt the warmth your mouth provided and stared down at you.

“Oh, Gods.” He groaned, almost a whine. “Who taught you this, my sister? Have you engaged in such acts before?”

You quickly backed away, shaking your head with a guilt ridden face. “No, Aegon. I am so very sorry if this was something I was not supposed to do. I promise I have never done this before, I promise. I swea—”

“Hey,” Aegon whispered, caressing your face with his large hand. “I believe you. You see I do not wish for you to get involved like this with someone else. It is only right if you do it with me, and Aemond.”

You nodded your head understandingly. “I would love for you to continue, my little dove but right now I need something more. Could you give it to me, my sweet girl?”

“Yes, brother. Anything my King wants.” You smiled, lips shimmering with his residual and Aegon’s cock twitched.

He pulled you on his lap once more, hands on your waist. Then the pair dropped lower to your bare thighs and Aegon bunched up your dress, revealing your unclothed, bare pink cunt. You were never too fond of wearing small clothes under your dresses — summer of Westeros unbearable for a delicate thing like you.

He licked his lips deliciously.

“Just as you touched me, I have the full right to touch you too. You understand?” You nodded like an obedient student, stomach churning in anticipation for your brother's next move.

Aegon pulled you closer rather harshly by your thighs and your shoulders went slumped, feeling his head brush against your pearl. Your eyes widening at the electrifying contact. “I need to do this in order to make my cock fit inside you, so be a good girl and let me, okay?”

“Yes, brother.” You whispered, stomach fluttering in anticipation.

Aegon’s fingers moved to your cunt, running in the center of your soaked folds. He found it amusing how you had no idea of the pleasures taken between a man and a woman yet your body had reacted like this, cunt drenched and wet. He knew your maidenhead was still intact, after all he rarely ever let you be in the presence of someone else.

If Aegon was occupied, it would be Aemond who would linger around you like a new born shadow.

They knew how innocent you were, how fucking naive and monsters lurked in the red keep. You needed their protection more than the people of the realm. Careless they were about the iron throne, Aegon wished to fuck you on it before properly ascending it.

“Oh.” Your eyes slightly rolled back at the way your brother caressed your folds, pinching your pink pearl. “You've got such a beautiful cunt, my sister. I am sure you will put it to good use to make your brothers happy, won't you, little dove?”

Eager you were to please them.

They had brought you everything, anything your heart had ever desired. Allowed you to ride their dragons with them, brought you the most beautiful gifts from the north and drowned you in lannister gold. Both brothers even went as far as getting you jewelry from Dorne since Aemond caught you complimenting a dornish necklace.

Aemon’s thumb prodded at your bud, swirling it around, watching how your face contorted in pleasure. Lids fluttering shut and head thrown back, fingernails digging into your brother's chest. You were a fucking sight, all disheveled. With his other hand, he entered a finger into you and your pleasure-clad face evolved into one of pain.

“Ow,” you complained at the sting of being stretched out. “Aegon, that hurts.”

“I know, my Princess but you mustn't rush. I will bring you pleasure soon, it is a promise.”

You believed him, waiting out the sting as Aegon fully sunk his finger into you. Driving it in and out of you, all the while rubbing your swollen attention seeking bud. Your expressions were the prettiest, the most breathtaking and he questioned himself why did he not do this earlier?

Just what was stopping him back?

He was the fucking King, goddamnit. He could have you whenever he wanted and you would give yourself up to him, everytime. Just like right now how you were serving yourself up to him on a silver platter like those animals during feasts.

“Brother, oh my god. This feels weird, I feel weird.” You whimpered, hips moving on their own accord over your brother's fingers and Aegon licked his lips, furthermore sinking his canines into his lower lip.

Aegon added another without warning and you whined out, a loud one which made him reach over and press his palm over your lips, sealing them shut. “As much as I absolutely adore your sounds, we should not let anyone find out.”

You nodded, and Aegon removed his hand, letting you breathe. You decided to keep it blow but everytime Aegon would move his finger inside you and you would feel it run at your gummy unclaimed walls, little whimpers would escape you. Feeling his fingers curve up and rotate, hitting into a spongy spot of which’s existence you too were unaware of, you cried out.

Aegon smiled.

That was enough preparing.

Aegon pulled out and you gasped when he brought his lips to his mouth, sucking on your sweet arousal.

He wanted to take you on your back but that was how he took his whores. He would never let them sit on top of his thighs and look at him like this — all dolled up yet disheveled. You were his sister, the apple of his fucking eye and Aegon was not going to take you like some whores.

They existed to keep his sick desires for you at bay, but he knew after this, he would not be needing them anymore.

“This is going to hurt, sister but worry not, I assure you I am right here. It shall feel better soon, just like with my fingers.” His comforting words and soft tone helped with your trepidation — allowing your brother to raise your hips and align his cock with your drenched hole.

Aegon allowed you to sink down on him and when his head breached your entrance, a sting worse than before spread like a virus, consuming your whole being. Your eyes welled up with tears and your lips quivered, a brusque tremor awakening in your petite hands. He was quick to come to your rescue, holding both your hands and leading the pair to his nape, making you latch onto him for support.

“Here, hold me. As tight as you can, my little dove and carefully slide down. Be careful and gentle, alright? No rush here.” He continuously comforted, guiding you and you nodded, inhaling a deep and brief breath.

Then you sunk more, his girth expanding your hole. Little movement and reassuring words from your brother helped you take the entirety of his cock and when your ass finally met his thighs, Aegon groaned. You felt his cock twitch inside you and your hold around his nape tightened. The pain was throbbing and hot — consuming your whole being but the fact you were so full with your brother's cock, contempt, you let out a drunk giggle.

Short on breath but still, you smiled at Aegon.

While you two descended deeper into forbidden pleasures, Aemond had gotten free time to come see you.

After intense sword training and back and forth of sharing strategies of the war with Ser Criston Cole, Aemond had found his feet switching route — bringing you to the hallway where your chambers were located. As he walked, with each step, he felt extreme excitement build up in his stomach. Finally having enough time to spare you a visit and get drunk, bask in your presence.

He hoped that Aegon would not be there as he wanted you all to himself, especially for tonight.

Upon opening the door to your chambers, the view before him left him astonished and there were rarely many things that left Aemond Targaryen astonished. He was quick to close the doors, not wishing for anyone to come across the Princess’ bed chambers and witness such sin.

His hands formed into fists — how you sat on top of Aegon, hips oscillating in a sensual manner. Too sensual for someone as innocent as you and he knew Aegon had managed to ruin and defile the only pure thing about house Targaryen. Yet fucking again. You two were so indulged and far gone in your pleasures that Aemond’s presence was barely noticed.

But then Aegon caught his brother's tall figure by the door.

“Oh brother, welcome.” He called out, although it was more of a moan and you turned to look at Aemond.

Your cunt tightened at Aegon when gaze laid over your brother, the one you missed the most since he barely had time to spare. Aegon let out a hoarse chuckle, shaking his head at his brother. “You will not fucking believe it but our sister's cunt became more tight upon seeing you.”

Aemond’s teeth gritted. “Mittys, that is our sister.” (Fool)

“Do not pretend as if you have not wished to do this more than I have.” He voiced it out, hand pressing into your waist. You whimpered as Aegon made you move on his cock and by now the pain had subsided, pleasure coming in to take control. You began to roll your hips over his thighs, eyes locked with Aemond.

You needed him too, your eyes screamed for him to come closer and as if you had telepathically communicated, Aemond sauntered towards the bed.

You whined when Aegon pushed his hips up, breaching furthermore of your cunt. “Aemond.”

Aegon was inside you but you were moaning for Aemond and the older brother did not even find it upsetting. Rather his cock hardened even more — if possible, hearing you whine and ache for your younger brother with such need. He did not mind sharing you with Aemond, as long as he could have his fill of you too.

“A-Aegon said I could make you both happier like this. I want to, I love you. You're my brothers.” You expressed your profound love for them, nodding your head as Aemond slipped of his leather gloves. He tossed them aside and reached for your hair, taking a strand and curling it around his finger. His nose catching a whiff of the perfumes and oils you were basking in, yet the natural scent of roses was enough to drive him fucking crazy.

He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder. Eye following the stretch mark trailing down to your breasts and the stretched flesh made him realize that you had grown. You were not a little girl anymore but you were still their little sister. Your rosy nipples were peaked — demanding attention and Aemond hissed.

His own cock bulging against his leather slacks and Aegon saw it.

Aegon moved inside you, thrusting up and you lost composure. Lips breaking apart to let out the most feminine sounds, silver strands glued on a perspired forehead as Aemond watched you bounce on his brother's cock with vigor. Your fingernails had dug into Aegon’s nape and tears sat beautifully like pearls in your waterline.

It was evident that you were sensitive, nothing like the common whores.

“Does she not look fucking beautiful, bouncing on her big brother's cock like that?”

Aemond wanted to punch Aegon but he was not wrong. You did look celestial, out of this world with how you bounced up and down on his cock, trying to desperately please him.

Aegon rolled his eyes at Aemond. “Are you only going to just watch? I have taught her things, with her hand and mouth. Be a dear and show him, sister.”

Like a trained puppy, you were quick to oblige, hands extended to work gracefully over Aemond’s leather slacks. You undid them, pulling at the leather and he watched how eager and desperate you were. Hands moving with a significant tremor.

“Aemond,” he raised his eye from your hands to your face. “may I please have you in my mouth?”

If the offer had crawled to him on its fucking fours with the most precious doe eyes, who was he to deny? He, too was a man at the end and had perpetually craved you the same as Aegon. Only he was subtle with his desires.

“Yes, my sweet sister.” Aemond whispered, staring at you. His consent made you flourish like the moonlight, bright and glowing right in his face.

Aegon decided it would be better to switch positions and he pulled out, bringing you on all your fours and giving space to Aemond against the bed headboard. He shifted, sprawled out before you, leather slacks and small clothes long gone. In the process, Aegon had stripped himself bare too but the brothers wanted you to not remove the dress.

Just how easily they had access to you despite the dress, it enticed them.

With Aemond’s cock in your hand, you came to a conclusion that his was the prettiest. It was longer than Aegon’s but had almost the same girth. Protruding veins embedded inside the pale skin, his balls hot and throbbing with an ache. You looked up at him and smiled and all Aemond could do was return it and fucking melt.

“Aemond, remove your eye patch. I want to see you whole.” You voiced out your desires and he reached for the eye patch, sliding it off and tossing it aside. The sapphire sparkled like crazy in his eye and you had always found it to be the most coolest and breathtaking thing about Aemond.

Having less of a part than the others did not make him less human too.

Though he appeared more like a god. The fire from the fireplace casting a soft golden glow over both brothers, leaving them heated with pent up desires.

Aegon had already pummeled his cock back into you, not after witnessing the blood staining his length. Testament of your chasity staining him fully and his wanton for you only grew more. You pressed a little kiss to Aemond’s tip — watching him with your deer like purple eyes and he hissed, hand moving to interview with your silver strands.

Eventually you wrapped your lips around his head, slowly taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth while using your hand to stroke the rest which failed to fit. All while Aegon drove himself deeper inside your sweet, innocent cunt, drawing pathetic little whines out of you.

Aemond groaned, fingers tightening around your roots when the vibrations from your moans sent waves of electricity straight into his loins. You choked when he breached your throat, sputtering around him. Drool and cum glistening around your mouth. Your younger brother sighed pleasure, primary focus of his one eye.

“Messy little girl,” he taunted, the fluids dripping from your chin.

Aegon nestled his cock over and over into your sweet spot, urging you to reach your peak and unravel. “L-Look at her. So fucking obedient and pliant. I want to watch her stomach swell up with my babe. That way mother won't try to marry her off to someone else, some fucking riverrun lord.”

Aemond’s attention snapped to his brother's words, and Aegon only nodded. Letting him know that they were close to losing their sister but not anymore. The sweet dove was tainted, used and claimed. Even if their mother tried to marry her off, she was already tainted by her brothers and no lord would want her. That pleased both Aemond and Aegon.

“Gods, what a blessing you are.” Aemond praised you, highly, palm pressing deeper on your head, encouraging you to take him deeper and you did. His head sliding into the confines of your tight, wet throat. “Perfect little girl, a cocksleeve.”

With each thrust from Aegon, your body moved forward against Aemond’s. A sweaty mess of pleasure and bodied you three were but that did not matter. Aegon felt his peak near, tethering onto it and soon he finished inside you after delivering harsh, potent stutters of hips into you. Your cunt tightened, sucking him in, like a vice.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Like that, little dove, take me in, all of me. Milk me fucking dry, let me breed you so you carry my silver haired children.”

Aemond didn't mind his brother having you first and defiling you, since he pretty sure had your throat first. You were theirs and that's all that mattered. Gagging sounds reverberated in the room along with strong sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your peak danced around too, and when Aemond fucked his cock harshly into your throat, you squeezed around Aegon’s cock and came all over. Tears splurging out, making a mess on your face.

Your whole body twitching from the intense climax. Thighs shaking and sensitivity heightened. Followed by your release, Aemond pursued. Release spurts of white into your mouth, spending fully inside you. Yet he did not unhand you, holding your head in place to fuck his hot load into your mouth.

Once he was done, he pulled out and grasped your chin, peeking inside. “Swallow it whole, Princess.”

And you did. Gulping down the remnants of his spend.

Your head, tired from being in one position, laid right on Aemond’s bare thigh. Aegon was still inside you and when he pulled out, he saw your gaping hole spurt out his white residual. Parts that failed to reach your womb but it did not matter. He would breed you over and over again until you were to end up with his child.

Or Aemond’s.

As long as it was a silver haired babe.

“A-Are you happy now?” You asked, a question for both of your brothers and Aemond nodded his head, running his slim fingers in your hair.

Aegon crawled upto you, laying next to Aemond. A subtle smile playing at his lips, eyes hooded and body weary from all the hard work. “Very happy, little dove. We could not have asked for a better sister.”

Your pale flushed skin reddened as Aemond moved you, bringing you closer to his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Aegon admired the two of you, pleased with the fucked up dynamics of his family. This was a pleasure he could not have found or ever would find in the bed of a whore. You were the apple of their eye and they could not let you go, even if it meant restoring to such methods.

Your hands cupped your younger brother's face, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.

Aemond had expected it to be a gentle peck but it grew needy and hasty, exactly how Aegon had taught you. Your lips suckling on his like a babe, trying to pry his mouth open and meet your tongue with his. You seemed addicted, desperate to kiss your younger brother the same way you had kissed your older. The kiss grew heated as Aemond opened his lips, finally taking control and dominating your mouth.

You whimpered, and Aemond could taste the residual of his orgasm. It did not phase him as he continued relishing in the sweet kiss, feeling your cunt beginning to rut against his already hardening cock.

When you broke the kiss, Aemond admired you before shifting his attention to Aegon who had a nasty grin on his face. “You're responsible for this.”

“Proudly. Only had to teach her once and look at how she's already sucking on your lips like it's a fucking cock.” He cheered, reaching over to pinch your cheeks. You giggled and hugged your younger brother, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

The three of you did not leave your chambers that night while the whole of red keep searched endlessly for the sword, the King and the maiden.

[venmondiese]

LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye. 

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods. 

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support. 

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

 “My lady” Aemond says softly. 

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks. 

 “My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.” 

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted.  But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?” 

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery. 

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises” 

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband. 

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’. 

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments. 

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his. 

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black” 

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby. 

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about. 

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him. 

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them. 

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her 

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much. 

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact. 

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea. 

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his. 

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men. 

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage. 

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you” 

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking. 

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know” 

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife. 

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative. 

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone. 

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours. 

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again” 

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied. 

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation. 

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches. 

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.”  His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face. 

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her. 

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured. 

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit. 

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson” 

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

 “Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion. 

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her 

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock. 

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.  

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever. 

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight. 

“Please, Aemond…” 

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully. 

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom. 

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you” 

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt. 

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust. 

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore” 

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored. 

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed. 

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly. 

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?” 

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair.