#hotg x reader

[eternalbuckley]

Secrets in the sheets. — helaena targaryen

SUMMARY: You are Helaena's lady-in-waiting and in a secret relationship with her. You had been in love with each other and realised your feelings over the time. After a feast with her family, you decide to take care of her but it ends up with her being between your legs. — check out the request

word count: 3,327

genre: smut with plot | afab!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: 18+ MDNI!! NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering, slight praise kink, breast/nipple play, secret relationship, mention of Y/N once, set after the death of viserys (the coronation of aegon already happened), english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: i'm quite nervous to publish this one here because it's the first time i wrote and publish anything that is focused on a lot of smut. please bear with me, i'm still trying to figure it out! but i hope you enjoy it <3 reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and highly welcomed!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

18+ MDNI divider by cafekitsune

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Being the lady-in-waiting of Helaena Targaryen, the Queen, was a pleasure for you in different ways you could think about. As a noblewoman, you stayed on Helaena’s side most of the time each day. Being her company and spending time together, whether it was with her children or in the evenings after they’ve been brought to their beds. You had been a friend of hers long before she was Queen. You’ve been her official lady-in-waiting for the past three years. Helaena and you shared similar interests, and you understood them. That was something you always admired about her, even long before you were her lady-in-waiting.

You’ve even read about insects in different books, so you could talk with her about her interest in them. Something she always appreciated about you and meant a lot to her. While others didn’t really understand her interest in the insects, you went your way and took your time to read and study the topic, even if you could spend your time with other things. But what mattered as well were Helaena’s needs and what she wanted, and you were there to try to fulfil them as much as possible.

Every night, she’d want to spend time with you until she’d go to bed, sometimes, she wanted you to lay next to her so she wouldn’t have to be alone. You’d be talking about different things, mostly any insects she had in mind. Sometimes, she’d ask you about your opinion on her embroidery works while you gently combed through her hair in the evenings. Other nights, you’d stay on her side as she took a bath, helping her to wash or just keep her company. It was only the two of you since she trusted you the most. Perhaps it was because you had known her way before she had to be Queen or marry her brother. There was always a strong bond between you, which only the two of you could completely understand. There was always a deeper connection between you but neither you nor her dared to do something about it.

Since she had been crowned Queen, you grew even closer but what you wouldn’t have ever expected was to get or realise your feelings for her. Feelings you wouldn’t normally have for just a friend.

You tried to ignore the growing feelings for her. It wouldn’t work to be with her; you knew that it could be common for two women to love one another but only in the hidden. It probably couldn’t work out in the eyes of everyone else but despite this, she was married and the Queen.

The longer you tried to hold back your feelings, the harder it was to ignore them. Especially when you were in her company during her baths or helped her to dress or undress. Seeing her in her naked form, the way her soft skin felt against your fingertips. Wishing you could be more than just a friend to her. She was the one you thought about before falling asleep way too often. You thought it was wrong to think about Helaena like this, but you couldn’t stop yourself either. It was too hard to ignore and all you wished and yearned for was to be able to love her, to be with her and that she might feel the same for you.

But you weren’t the only one who was struggling. She was too. When she noticed herself thinking about you more often than usual, in ways she never thought about anyone before, she felt confused and conflicted. She thought something was wrong with her. Thinking about another woman in these ways? But why did it feel so good to think about you these ways? Every time you spoke, she wished she could save the sound of your voice in her mind forever. Helaena didn’t really like it if someone touched her body but with you, it always had been different. She never minded if she felt your hands on her skin. Even long before she realised her growing feelings for you.

She found herself longing for your touch whenever you helped her to dress or washed her back. Your hands felt perfect and right on her skin, they were soft and made her feel filled with a warmth she hadn’t felt before. She found herself often looking down at your lips as she watched you in the mirror while you fixed her hair or laced her gowns. A soft smile on your lips would bring a smile to her lips as well. The more she watched you, the more she noticed all your features she hadn’t noticed before.

Oh, what a beautiful person you were, so gentle but too far to be reached.

She was sure she could never have you; she was too afraid to ask you if you knew what these feelings could be or if you shared her feelings. She was afraid you might be disgusted by her. She was afraid you could talk to someone else about this or that you could make fun of her, even if you were her closest friend. She was afraid of possibly losing you. Deep down, she knew you wouldn’t fulfil her fears, but she still had them.

Those fears were forgotten once you asked her if you could kiss her. It was a moment of comfort, sitting close on the floor as she talked about her insects. One of the recent ones she found. You watched her in awe as she talked about her special interest with so much depth and excitement. And you didn’t mean to blurt out such a question, it was fully on accident. You tried to take it back but after Helaena nodded and lifted her head to look you into your eyes. Both of you were nervous but leaned in, slowly. Once you felt each other’s lips on each other, everything made sense suddenly. Her lips felt good on yours and they moved perfectly against each other. One of your hands held hers, as the other one laid on her cheek as if she could slip out of your hands any second. As both of you pulled away, there was a better and deeper understanding between you. You knew what you wanted. She knew what she wanted. You wanted each other, even if it might feel forbidden but it made sense. It felt right and made you two happy despite what could happen in the future.

It was a secret between you two. One you’d keep until you die.

Since your shared kiss, your somewhat secret relationship has flourished. Your days were filled with many stolen glances and subtle touches. No one seemed to suspect anything, given that you two had always been very close with each other before, which was a good thing for you two because you were able to love one another in secret. You continued to keep your formalities in front of everyone else. Calling each other by your formal names. But once you two were alone in her chamber, you would always just be Helaena and Y/N. No duties, no formalities. Just the two of you, happy in each other’s arms. It was everything you’d need.

She may have had no interest in the marriage or romantically loved her brother, but you still felt somewhat guilty for everything. You’ve been doing behind his back ever since Helaena and you dared to let it happen and see where things would take you.

You were currently helping her to undress after a long day, which ended with a feast with her family almost an hour ago. Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor were already brought to their beds and now she was standing in front of you, her back turned to you as you slowly unlaced her gown.

Your fingers shoved her gown down to reveal her skin and smallclothes she was wearing underneath. You noticed how her body got slight goosebumps, possibly from the air hitting her exposed body. Your hands brushed over the revealed parts of her skin, which caused her to shiver even more. A smile made its way on your lips as you noticed the reaction of her body to your touch. As you made eye contact through the mirror, you noticed a glimmer of desire and need in her eyes.

“Do you wish that I kiss you, my love?” You whispered into her ear, and she nodded immediately as a reply, her lower lip slightly between her teeth. Words stuck in her throat as she saw the desire in your eyes as well. You chuckled at her reaction and were more than happy to give her what she desired.

You brushed her silver-white hair on her right shoulder while your lips found their way to her left shoulder. Leaving soft and gentle kisses on her skin. Making sure to cherish her as much as she deserved it. A slight shiver ran down her spine when you slowly pulled down her gown completely. Helaena hummed and leaned into your embrace as she often did. Your hands traced her arms up and down as you continued to kiss her shoulder. Slightly sucking on her skin but being aware not to leave any visible marks on her body. As it could cause too much attention, no matter how deeply you wished that you could be able to leave your marks on her. You always had to be careful. A shaky gasp left her lips as you sucked on her shoulder and the back of her neck. Helaena closed her eyes while you slowly removed her smallclothes to leave her standing completely naked in front of you. Your own body got aroused by her reactions to your touch and kisses.

Your hands found their way to the curves on the side of her body as you continued to kiss her, slowly making your way to her spine. Another gasp left her lips when you wrapped your arms around her and gently squeezed her breasts. She leaned into your embrace even more and turned her head slightly to face you and capture your lips in a needy and loving kiss. You kissed her back and slightly bit down on her lower lip, causing her to whimper in your mouth.

Both of you slightly opened your mouths to be able to taste each other on your tongues, causing both of you to hum into each other’s mouths. You continued to kiss each other while your hands massaged her breasts, pinching her sensitive nipples one or two times. Her skin was slowly growing hotter each second. She eventually turned around to face you and lifted her hands to undress you as well. You watched her hands in anticipation as she slid down your gown from your body and made sure to remove your smallclothes as well, leaving both of you naked.

As you both stood naked in front of each other, she leaned in to kiss you again and pushed her body against yours. Feeling each other’s warmth and soft skin caused your body to shiver. The both of you had your hands on each other as she started to push you in the direction of her bed and the kiss getting more heated between you. You felt the edge of her bed on the back of your thighs and let her push you down on the soft sheets of her bed. They smelled like her, causing your mind to drive wild immediately.

She smiled down at you as you laid across her bed and crawled on top of you, straddling your lap and started to kiss your neck after she pulled your hair away to reveal the skin of your neck. You moaned softly as you felt her sucking on your skin slightly and licked over your sensitive spot. Sometimes, you could think she knows your body better than you. She knew how to drive you crazy, only with the simplest actions. Your hands roamed over her back as she kissed down your neck to your collarbone and lower to your chest, leaving a small mark there. You closed your eyes and bit down on your lower lip as you felt her tongue gliding over one of your nipples and sucking on it.

You arched your back, “Hel, I…” You whimpered as she let go of your nipple and focused on your other one now. Causing your pulse to quicken with the building pleasure and growing wetness between your legs as she brushed over your upper body with her fingers. Always so gentle with you. You wanted more; you needed more of her. She knew that and teased you. “Please, I need you, my love,” you whispered as a shiver rolled down your spine as your gaze met hers.

She smiled and pulled away from you, parting your legs and laid down between them. Her lips curled into a smirk now as she saw how your cunt already glistened with your slick. She hummed and looked up to you. You held yourself on your elbows and watched her, eager to finally get her mouth on you. A quiet whine left your mouth as you felt her breath on your skin and her face hovered over your sensitive area. Helaena kissed the inside of your thighs and put her hands on both sides of your hips.

“So beautiful,” she whispered and teased your folds with her finger, causing you to whimper once again. In a rush of need, you bucked your hips against her hand to feel more of her, but she moved her hand away and held you down by your hips more firmly. “We have all the time tonight, my sweet girl,” she whispered against your cunt, “No need to rush.”

You nodded and sharply inhaled as she slowly dragged her fingers between your folds again, spread them slightly and eventually bent her head down to lick through them. A moan immediately left your lips as she devoured your cunt. She hummed into you as she felt and tasted your warm slick on her tongue. Her tongue found your clit and started to suck on it gently, causing you to gasp in pleasure.

“F-fuck,” you moaned as she continued to pleasure you with her mouth. Her tongue circled on your clit and both of her hands continued to hold you down by your hips to stop you from moving too much. One of your hands found its way to her forehead to tuck a strand of her hair out of her face so she could look at you better. The eye contact with her brought you closer to your release.

As she added a finger and slid into you with it, you moaned louder. You tried to keep down your sounds with a hand over your mouth, in fear a knight in front of the chamber’s door might hear what you two were doing but it only added to the pleasure you felt because of Helaena. Your legs started to twitch slightly as she added another finger and put more pressure on your clit with her tongue, aiming to bring you to your climax even faster. The sight of her between your legs was heavenly and the sounds you made were sinful. She knew you were getting closer as your arms slowly gave up and your head fell back on her bed; she felt how you were clinching around her fingers. You played with your breasts, squeezing them and had your eyes closed, almost on the edge of coming on your girlfriend’s tongue and around her fingers. The scent of her sheets caused your brain to turn into mush once again, only adding to the pleasure she brought to you.

“Don’t stop,” you begged her as she slowed down her movements for a moment. “Then look at me, my love.” She whispered, hovering with her face over your cunt and waiting for you to look back at her. You slowly opened your eyes, your face heated up and deeply exhaled as you put your weight on your elbows to look at her again. The slow movements of her fingers did not stop. “Always my good girl, aren’t you?” She smiled as she praised you, causing a moan to slip out of your mouth and leaned down to take your swollen clit into her mouth and fastened her fingers again to get you over the edge.

You started moaning again and intertwined your fingers with her hand that was still on your hips, your eyes not leaving hers as she finally brought you over the edge. She moaned into your cunt as you clenched around her fingers and eventually came on her tongue. She cleaned you up with her tongue while your head fell back against her bed again, your legs slightly shaking as she continued to slide her fingers in and out of your cunt as you came down from your climax. After a few minutes, she pulled out her fingers and left a soft kiss over your clit, you slightly whimpered but had a smile on your lips from the pleasure you just felt. Helaena hummed as she held your gaze and licked her fingers clean. She crawled up to you, laid down next to you and captured your lips in a gentle kiss; you softly moaned into her mouth as you tasted yourself on her tongue.

“You did so well for me, my angel,” she whispered and kissed your sweaty forehead. Your smile widened and melted into her embrace. You sighed in happiness and kissed her collarbone while she gently traced the side of your body with her fingers that weren’t inside you a few moments ago.

You slowly sat up and pushed her down against her sheets and continued to kiss her from her collarbone down to her cunt. Your hands gently touched her breasts, and she let out a soft sigh after you slightly pinched her nipples before your hands wandered over the rest of her body, worshipping her. She already had her legs parted as your face hovered over her glistening heat. You bit down on your lower lip, moved your hands on either side of her thighs and kissed them gently. You told her how pretty she was and how much you loved her, she smiled down at you and caressed your cheek as she raised her upper body for a moment.

“And I love you, my angel,” she whispered in response. There was a short moment of comfortable silence between you as you watched each other in awe before you told her to lie down. It was your turn to pleasure your secret girlfriend now and show her how much you loved her.

Even if you both knew how much you admired each other, every night you were together was a new added layer to your relationship. It might have to happen in secret but both of you were happy with each other. The yearning you feel for each other throughout the day could be painful, but it was bearable, knowing you could spend your day together without anyone questioning how close you seemed to be at certain points. You were her lady-in-waiting, and no one would question why you only you were the only one she’d let her dress or undress. No one questioned why she only wanted you to be there. Ever since you’ve been officially her lady-in-waiting, you were the only one she’d let so close to her. Especially for any intimate tasks. But even simple ones as doing her hair, she only wanted you to do it. As you were the only one, she wanted to be close to her. The people around you admired how close the two of you were, completely unaware of what you were doing behind closed doors. The love the two of you shared kept both of you happy, that’s what mattered the most.

[djorgcre]

“till-“ IM NOT STOPPING

[live-tweeting-hotg]

You Don't Think, Do You [Daemon x Reader]

summary: the princess of Dorne struggles to see eye to eye with the Rogue Prince.

warnings & content: heavy smut 18+ (minors dni), porn with little plot, non/dubcon, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, mean!dom!daemon, rough sex, fingering (fem receiving), p in v, creampie, titty slapping, he puts a sword to her neck, power imbalance, size kink, light breeding kink, degradation, dumbification, mentions of arranged marriage, rhaenyra? who's that (this is so nasty I'm not sure why I wrote this)

words: 2.5k

You let the heavy door shut swing behind you, feeling your annoyance threatening to bubble over. The crown princess of Dorne, regal, powerful, tremendously able… shipped off to this miserable rock to sign a perfunctory piece of paper. You wanted to scream, thought better of it, and let out a tight breath of air somewhere between a hiss and a sigh. 

It was almost like you were being punished for something, yet the entirely civil pretence of it meant you didn’t quite dare ask.

You stand in the room rigidly, exhausted, yet restless with a twitchy sort of tension. To your side, on the large sprawling table, you spot a set of ornate wine cups, fighting off the urge to smash one onto the ground. You were a guest, you reminded yourself, and the renewal of the treaty was necessary nonetheless. A pointless feat, but the prince seemed satisfied enough with the content, despite his bored demeanour at the meeting. 

The thought of him almost set you off again. He had spent the entire evening listening to you present the treaty with a raised brow, insisting that you explain every line to him in detail even though there wasn’t a single difference between this and the one preceding it. He smirked when you talked, scoffed when you paused, and spent the remaining time staring at the low cut of your dress. 

If this was in Dorne, you think you may have had his eyes cut out. 

The knock at your door was a welcome distraction to your agitation. You blink, realising you had spent a good few minutes standing in the middle of the empty room like an idiot, turning to answer the door. 

“Princess, I’ve just been made aware of the most interesting thing,” Daemon declares at you when you open the door, before you can even greet him. His frame almost obscures the entire doorway, the scabbard of his sword colliding loudly with the doorframe, leaving you with a strange sense of claustrophobia. He was disorientating, you decided.

“What,” you say back dumbly, after a brief pause, not entirely certain what else you could reply given the strange situation.

His frame slides forward without warning, and you move back instinctively as he lets himself into your— his— room. “I hear of unfavourable things in Sunspear,” he says, fixing you under his gaze. “I hear of treason, plots against the King…”

“Spies,” he finishes softly, face impassive, watching you intensely to gauge a reaction.

You are entirely lost. 

“I am unaware—” You begin, before he cuts you off again.

“Are you a spy, princess?” The words are soft, almost chiding, and you think you spot the hint of a smirk at his lips. 

You were so dizzy you almost felt nauseous. The context of this was absurd. He was in your room, alone and late, interrogating you whether you were spying— for who?! you wanted to scream. Your rising unease made it more and more difficult to be civil.

“Who would I be spying for?” you say, slowly, tone incredulous. “This is… most strange, and unfounded—” you find your voice rising steadily as your confusion gives way to indignation, and more annoyance. 

He hums, crosses his arms casually, and you could swear you saw his eyes twinkling. 

“—and insane!” you finish, throwing the word at him like a pointed rock. He cocks his head lazily and dodges it. 

“You’re getting very worked up over something unfounded, princess,” he remarks, uncrossing his arms, voice suddenly quieter as he stalks towards you. You don’t move back, because you want to slap him when he comes close enough. 

“If this is a jest, I fail to see the amusement,” you tell him sharply, the regal certainty seeping back into your stance, even as he towers over you. 

Up close, you notice the fine lines of his sharp, angular face, the eyes set deep into them and the coldness behind his haughty demeanour. When he takes another step towards you, you step back, suddenly uncertain.

“I think I just need to check, princess,” he says softly, almost apologetic. “if you’re carrying… anything untoward. It’ll be a formality.”

your anger flares. “I will not be subject to your ridiculous whims.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken. “It’s a simple search, princess. Hardly ridiculous.” 

“I don’t think—” your voice rises hotly, then falls flat as you’re interrupted by the sharp grate of his sword as he bares his blade, cocking his head almost thoughtfully, raising it to rest at the side of your neck. It is almost wider than your shoulder. 

“No,” he coos, smirking down at you. “you don’t think, do you.” He tilts his blade so it digs into the soft skin under your jawline. “I need to search you, princess. And I won’t ask again.”

He is clearly fucking insane, you realise. 

“…Alright,” you breathe out slowly, agreeably, the heat draining from your voice, and he hums appreciatively before sheathing his sword. 

“Turn around, princess. Arms out.” 

You stand rigidly as he moves behind you, feeling his large hands rest on your shoulders, practically breathing down your neck. A pool of dread settles in your stomach. You knew of his reputation, as did everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, but with you…?

He moves slowly, deliberately, down the length of your arms, his hand wide enough to almost circle it entirely. He returns to your waist, feeling the curve of your hips through your gown, tutting when you shift uncomfortably. “Behave,” he chides at you as he moves higher, practically palming your tits through your dress. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to deal out a harsh squeeze, huffing out a laugh as you flinch.

“I fear the princess is hiding too much,” he breathes into your ear, arm snaking around your waist as you stiffen uncomfortably, pressing you back against his firm chest. His free hand pushes down the neckline of your dress insistently. “I think she’ll need to bare some more loyalty to her prince.” 

Your face flushes as you swallow thickly. “This is improper,” you say weakly.

He shoves you hard from behind as you squeak in surprise, turning to face him with wide eyes. “Strip,” he said simply, face cold. His sword swings at his side.

You swallow again, staring at him, but he meets your gaze cooly with his strange violet eyes, watching you as you slowly unlace your dress, letting it fall to your feet with a soft thump. 

“The rest too,” he states softly, and you comply tensely, your face burning. You stare at the floor, completely bare before him as he crosses his arms again, drinking in your humiliation like a fine vintage. 

“A fine sight,” he hums appreciatively at last. You grit your teeth, sensing some vague end to his game, before he sighs again. “Forgive me for being thorough, princess.”

Your eyes widen as you hear his smirk. “Bend over the table.” 

“You can’t,” you blurt out without thinking, the colour draining from your cheeks. “Please, no—”

“You will bend over the table, or I will do it for you.” His voice is smooth and casual, as if he had been commenting on the weather. “And I promise it’ll hurt you a lot more.”

Your legs feel like lead. Your entire body feels like lead as you somehow walk yourself over, bending awkwardly over it. Like a slab of meat, you thought viciously. It is almost too high for you, and you’re left on your tiptoes, gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles as your face burned. He comes up behind you, tutting. “You know what to do, princess. Legs apart.”

You feel your spine tingle viscerally as you comply, spreading yourself completely before him. The first strike catches you completely off guard as his hand comes down firmly on your bare cunt, forcing a choked scream out of you as your hips buck unconsciously from the contact. It burned your pride more than the stinging shock on your sex. Daemon only laughs as his hand finds the small of your back, shoving your hips back onto the edge of the table as you gasp in pain. 

“Such a sensitive little thing,” he mocks. “I think you need to be reminded how to behave, hm?” You yelp as he slaps you again, then another time for good measure, as you writhe and whimper under him, tears brimming your eyes. “All talk, aren’t you? Just won’t shut up in that hall, think you’re so fucking smart…” A slap landed directly on your bud, the pain making you scream out. 

The way he treated you, the painful stimulation, and the fact that he had you naked bent over a desk whilst he was fully dressed…

He slid a finger along your folds, laughing quietly to himself. “My little princess liked that, hm? My, you’ve made quite the mess.” You feel it as he spreads your growing wetness down your thigh, hips twitching at the sensitivity. You are suddenly somewhat grateful that he has your face pressed into the desk. 

“What?” he mocks again. “Nothing to say?” 

You open your mouth, ready with a retort before he shoves two thick fingers into your wet heat, ripping a pained moan from you. You were certainly wet enough, but the stretch still stung, especially with his uncaring force. 

“That’s more like it,” he snorted as he scissored his fingers, stretching you out, feeling inside you casually. “Nothing here, princess,” he hummed innocently as he curled his fingers into a particularly sensitive spot inside you, smirking as you tightened around him involuntarily, sobbing. “It’s a shame… I could have had you put in the dungeons for treason, hm? Then I’d take you on your knees, yeah? Maybe I still can… Just needs my cock in your throat to shut you up, my little whore…” 

Your mind swims uncomfortably. His voice in your ear, the cold wood grating against your abused breasts, his fingers, filling you up in the way yours never could, the wet sounds of him fucking into you… His free hand comes down to rub furious circles around your pearl, and you sob out his name. 

“Yeah, princess?” he groans into the soft shell of your ear. “You’re close, I feel you getting tighter. Come on then, fuck, my royal whore, come on my fingers…”

You come apart with a silent cry, arching your back into him, tears streaming down your face as he tears your peak from you. He fucks you through it lazily, his fingers pumping into you, slowing only when you whimper from the overstimulation. He wipes his hand on your thigh, not giving you a second to recover before he drags you back up by your hair. 

“I apologise for not believing you, princess,” he breathes into your ear, as your eyelids flutter. Distantly, you register the sound of him undoing his breeches, lowering them just enough to take out his thick, weeping cock, giving it a few impatient jerks. “You’ve proven yourself to be… quite innocent, on this matter. But it’s improper for a host to let his guest leave him feeling so empty, isn’t it?” 

You barely register his words, whimpering helplessly as he pulls your legs either side of him, your face coming to rest awkwardly on his chin. “You’re not even fucking listening, are you,” he huffs, rubbing soothing circles on your back, dipping his head closer to speak to you. “I was just telling how I’m going to fuck your dripping hole so fucking hard,” he groans, sheathing himself entirely into you with one rough thrust, “that you’ll feel it in your fucking throat.” 

You scream out at the pain as he holds you, shushing you as you cling to him, clawing at his back. You feel him through the haze, deep and firm, too big inside you, splitting you open. When the initial sharpness of the pain fades, you’re left with a strange ache deep inside you, contracting desperately around him. Daemon tests shallow thrusts into you, grunting into your ear as he lowers you onto his cock, slapping your breasts to watch them bounce. “I knew you fucking liked it, slut,” he groans, squeezing experimentally at your throat. You whimper incoherently, feeling him thrust inside with more force.

“Too… big,” you complain hazily, through a hiccup of smaller moans that he forced out of your mouth. The angle was cruel. He had lifted you up, then thrusted up into you from below, trapping you between your weight downwards and his cock upwards. His arms trapped you in, holding you to his much larger chest as he nuzzled into the crook of shoulder, laughing.

“Yeah, too big for you?” he mocks. “Hurts, does it?” Daemon bites into your shoulder, groaning into you as you squeeze around him. “We’ll just have to fuck you open until you learn to take your husband’s cock, hm?” 

You register his words dimly, unable to really do much about it as you stare up at him through dazed eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. 

He reaches down, cupping your cheek as he continues breaking you apart. “Heard that, princess? Why do you think they sent you here instead of anyone else, hm?” He laughs again when he hears you sob. “You’re crying? Fuck, I love that.” 

“I won’t…” you grit out, voice almost breaking.

“You will,” he insists sadistically, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your cheek, licking at your tears. “see, they said you might not come willingly, but I suppose you won’t have a choice when I fuck a babe into you, yeah?” 

you whimper as he fucks into you with renewed vigour, your walls clenching involuntarily at his words. “So you can listen,” he groans into you, hand tightening in your hair to yank your head back. “keep doing that, yeah, good girl…” 

His free hand dips lower. With you impaled wide open on his cock, your bud is left vulnerably exposed, and he flicks at it mindlessly, drinking in your whines. “Gonna fuck my seed into you, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna fuck it so deep you’ll drip for days, my pretty little wife, such a good little wife for me…”

He slaps your tits once, twice, and then you’re spasming uncontrollably around his cock as your peak rips through you, feeling his warmth flood into you and drip down your thighs. You crumple into him, sobbing against his chest as he strokes your hair, shushing you. You feel his cock slip out of you as he picks you up gently, carrying you to the bed, stepping over your discarded clothes. 

You’re laid down onto the cushions softly, half-conscious, and Daemon wraps his arms around you from behind. “You might as well learn to like it, princess,” he hums into your ear as you’re flipped over into the bed, his hands on you again. “I don’t think I’ll be finished with you for a long time.” 

[notsosecretlyalesbian]

Eve Best as Rhaenys Targaryen in House of the Dragon | 01×01: The Heirs of the Dragon

[daisiesanddaffodils3]

Willow Maid (Reader x Yandere!Daemon)

Synopsis: Based heavily on the song “Willow Maid” by Erutan, one day Daemon goes through the forest, only 

Warnings: Usual yandere warnings, obsessive behaviour, violence, proceed at your own risk.

Author’s note: I absolutely love this character so lets get this bowl rolling.

You laid upon the mossy forest floor, upon the home where you were born again. At your original birth you were silent, unmoving, cold. Your parents were hopeless and that night they laid stiff until sleep stole them where they heard a voice, like a mothers - bring her to me, she whispered. They didn't know how they knew to take you to the forest where you now reside, but they laid you affront an old willow tree and left, safe within the embrace of the Mother.

You grew within that wood, blossoming like a sweet rose, wrapped in the embrace of the Mother. Vines grew along your arms and legs, flowers bloomed in your hair and your eyes glowed a deep green of the forest. Men tended to stay far from your forest, scared of the magic within your ancient home - until a dragon came hunting.

In a simple dark leather tunic, prince Daemon Targaryen marched through the forest, his eyes sharp. He needed to get away from King's Landing; between his brother, and petty nobles, it was no wonder that half of the Targaryens go mad. He came with the intention to hunt, but found himself exploring instead. During his patrols of King's Landing he had heard rumours of this part of the woods, that it was haunted...

When he heard a voice ringing out in the distance, beautifully echoing throughout the woods. In like a trance, he walked towards it, needing to see the fair creature who's soft tune blessed his ears. Through the thicket he wandered, brushing aside bushes, the air dense with anticipation until he saw her. Sitting by an old gnarled willow tree, encircled by red toadstools.

His breath hitched.

He had seen many fair maids before, and bedded most of them, but the being before him was otherworldly. Her long h/c hair like a halo, her flawless s/c skin with deep green vines snaking along it, and those mysterious glowing eyes... all wrapped up in a f/c dress which flowed around her, wild flowers encrusted upon it. To summarise, enchanting.

"Come with me my maiden, come from thy willow bed"

She had no visible reaction other than serenely shaking her head. "See me now, a ray of light in the moon dance, see me now, I cannot leave this place, hear me now, a strain of song in the forest. Don't ask me to follow where you lead"

He had left that day, knowing he would return.

When time allowed it, retraced his steps back to his fair maid. He was dressed in his finest black shirt, the blood red Targaryen symbol upon his left arm, in which he held a delicate flower. What were jewels and gold to a creature of the forest? His love's wavy/straight/curly hair like the fire burning within him, her eyes gleaming like emeralds. Her quiet youthful beauty beckoned him forth, where he stood before her. He outstretched towards her, offering the flower.

"Girl my heart you've captured, I would be your groom"

Her soft hand brushing his as she took the flower -

"I'd wed you never, not near, nor far, nor soon"

The dragon was speechless at her impertinence, as she continued:

"See me now, a ray of light in the moon dance, see me now, I cannot leave this place, hear me now, a strain of song in the forest. Don't ask me to follow where you lead"

He left in a daze that day, before the fog cleared and all that remained was anger. The kind of anger that had scorched nations, conquered kingdoms. The kind that only a dragon could process. He would return the next day, and he would not leave alone.

He returned on the back of Caraxes, he'd take the green eyed fairy and she'd be his wife. Madness raging through him as he imagined raising his heirs with her, living the rest of their eternity together. He reached the thick forested grove where she resided. For once a look other than serenity graced her face, fear. He couldn't imagine a more mesmerising view.

"Dracrays" He shouted, his voice like thunder, he would free her from this cursed forest. Caraxes opened its maw and released fiery carnage upon the old willow, setting it ablaze. At this his young bride screamed, horrified as he began setting her forest alight. Flying back and forth on his great beast, he had no mercy. She sprinted away when some stray flames licked her hair and dress, burning them in the chaos. He was like a man possessed. Any life or green that persisted, he snuffed out. She tried to escape but the walls of flames were too hot, too big, she collapsed in this middle of her charred forest. Only moisture left was her tears.

Once he satiated his destructive urge he landed (dragon), and went through the graveyard of trees to collect his love. She wasn't hard to find, the only colour betwixt the husks, face hidden in her arms and she mourned her once beautiful home. He took her arm and forced her to her feet, she was unable to resist.

As they left the forest she collapsed upon the earth, the vines on her arms drying up and falling off, the flowers in her hair withering and falling out. Her emerald eyes fading to a e/c. He stood before her as she looked up at him, her now (hair length) hair singed, scraps of her dress clinging to her, tear streaks breaking apart the ash on her face, as she looked hopelessly up at him. And she had never looked more beautiful to him.

[live-tweeting-hotg]

Aemond Targaryen x Reader who is one of the 4 baratheon girls (Cassandra, Maris, Ellyn, and Floris) who are trying to find common ground to build the foundation of their marriage that was quickly put together to gain the support of the Stormlands.

Please and thank you, and hope I did this right?

A Crown of Antlers [a.t. x reader]

summary: Lady Cassandra Baratheon arrives at King's Landing after she is betrothed to Aemond, and find that he is not quite what she had expected.

pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!reader

warnings & content: swearing, sexual tension, mentions of Alicent, Aemond being weird

wc: 2k

a/n: hoping this fits the request! looking at a possible pt 2...?

As the carriage rolled smoothly beyond the gates of the Red Keep, you pressed your hands against the folds of your dress and wondered why the Gods had decided to curse you. 

When the prince and his dragon landed at Storm’s End with a marriage proposal, your father, Boros Baratheon, had lined you and your three sisters up like cattle to the slaughter. 

You were not pretty. This was something that you acknowledged without bitterness, and with a sense of confidence that was almost close to pride. You face was drawn in sharp, angular planes, with soft lips fixed in a stiff line and deep, dark eyes that made men flinch if they stared too long. Rumours surrounded you at your father’s court about your lack of suitors, but your handmaidens would later say, almost incredulously, that no, Lady Cassandra had never taken offence to these jests, because she never gave a damn about anyone else’s opinions. 

Whilst you preferred to busy yourself with studies of languages and history, your sisters, Maris, Ellyn and Floris, picked flowers, stitched crosspoint and giggled about handsome young lords. Not that there was anything wrong with that. You loved your sisters fiercely, almost to a fault, but you had always known that you had been born with antlers for a crown, whilst they settled for the  softness and adoration meant for mild, beautiful does. Adoration which came in the form of gifts and proposals thrown across the realm from knights and lords alike.

Which is why you were left dumbfounded when Prince Aemond Targaryen knelt before you, kissed your hand and asked for your father’s blessing to marry you. 

As the carriage pulled to a halt, your mind pulled you uncontrollably back to that scene of Aemond on one knee, lips hovering above your hand, fixed as if in a painting. You had not heard the soft gasps of the court, nor the formalities spoken by your father, only the heavy thud of blood rolling through your own ears as you struggled to catch your breath. His one blue eye had borne into you intensely, with a promise that you couldn’t quite read, and when he finally dropped your hand you realised you had been shaking. You had looked down, averted your eyes, and you did not speak to Aemond again before he left for King’s Landing. For the next few days, as your handmaidens prepared for your journey to the King’s court, the thought of him plagued your mind as you wondered helplessly what his gaze had meant, and what the hell he wanted from you, briefly entertaining the idea that he had picked you simply because you had stood closest to him and he could not be bothered to walk. 

Even Aemond could not say what it was that had driven him to take your hand. It had to be something about the way you stood, about the tension in the firm lines of your neck, held so easily as if it came more naturally than relaxing. Or it was something about your gaze, so deceptively impassive, a thin veil over something that he could not quite grasp. He only knew that, try as he might, he could not shake you from his thoughts, as the girl with wild, undefinable eyes framed on an impenetrable face, trembling above him as he knelt to kiss your hand.

“We are here, my Lady.” The gentle reminder from your handmaiden, Ysra, brought you back to reality. You cough, slightly embarrassed, and allow her to take your hand as you lifted the hem of your dress to descend from the carriage. The bright midday sun hits your eyes suddenly, and you blink away the discomfort, bowing your head and dropping into a curtsey for Queen— or whatever she is now— Alicent. Behind her follows an impressive score of servants, as well as a fair, silver-haired girl, beaming radiantly at you, whom you immediately recognised as the princess Helaena Targaryen. 

Her brother, your betrothed, was nowhere in sight. 

Alicent had been talking, and you tuned in to hear the last of her greeting. “—and I trust the ride was pleasant enough, Lady Cassandra?”

You smile, smoothing over the deep stab of disappointment in your gut, and bow your head again. Get a grip. Marriage is only political, so why did you care whether he was here or not? “Yes, Your Grace. It is my pleasure to be in King’s Landing again.” You thought you ought to say more, to flatter her, to congratulate Aegon’s coronation, or even to humbly praise the Smith for allowing the wheels of your carriage to turn, but you truly didn’t know how to make the words sound sincere.

It seemed good enough for Alicent. “It is our pleasure to host you, Cassandra.” She gave you a smile which was almost compassionate, and you wondered whether she had noticed you glancing around for Aemond. “Helaena has kindly volunteered to show you to your quarters, and I trust you girls will get on very well with each other.” Alicent’s words had put you at ease, but there was an edge of something patronising in her voice that faintly annoyed you. “Before I forget, Cassandra, would you be so kind as to join us for dinner tonight? It would be a fine occasion to celebrate your… betrothal.” She had almost said pact. 

You smiled and nodded, not quite having the strength to speak. 

*  *  *

You lowered yourself into the warm bath with a low sigh. Helaena had taken you on a meandering tour of the castle, which allowed you a pleasant enough distraction from your thoughts. Now that you were alone once again, your mind flickered offhandedly back to the issue of your betrothal. There really was no issue, you tried to argue with yourself. You weren’t stupid. You knew that highborn marriages did not come from love. Aegon fucks his way through half of Flea Bottom, and he has a crown on his head. Why should his brother be any different?

The warm, soothing water had a way of clouding your mind. You rise up hastily and dry yourself, feeling a strange sense of comfort in the cold impassivity that spread though you again. All the better if Aemond didn’t care for you. That would give no room for mistakes in the name of love. 

When you laid out the dress you intended to wear for dinner, a dark, red gown cut from thick velvet, Ysra complained of a crinkle in the skirt and took it upon herself to search for an iron to press it out, despite your arguments that it was absolutely unnoticeable and that no one will mind. “It’s the first time the prince will see you, my Lady,” she whispered, making big eyes at you. You simply sighed and looked away. Princes are overrated, anyway.

You helped yourself into a thin silk chemise, waiting impatiently for Ysra to return with the rest of your dress. She had always managed to skilfully twisted your hair into a neat, tight braid whilst it dried, and your own attempt to replicate it had been admittedly less successful. As you moved your hand away from your creation, strands of hair fell loose, leaving messy tracks of water down your front. You groaned in annoyance, figuring that the only solution to salvage the rest of the braid was to sit and keep your head very, very still. When Ysra returned to knock softly on the door, you breathed a sigh of relief and made a mental note to not underestimate the importance of hairdressers again. “Come in,” you said, as the door creaked open, with a tinge of gratitude in your voice. 

“I apologise, my lady, I was not aware that you had already—” The voice was deep, mellow, and most decidedly did not belong to your handmaiden. You almost jumped up in shock, whipping your head around to see Prince Aemond standing at the entrance, paused mid-speech, with a hand frozen against your door. You felt the remnants of the braid tumble loose, and the wet strands of your hair fell against the white silk, dampening it in the process. Slowly, painfully, you registered just how inappropriately short the chemise was, and how the water had stuck to the curves of your breasts and turned the fabric almost transparent.

Aemond’s face had fallen completely blank. He blinked once, slowly, his mouth hanging slightly open, almost as if he could not understand what he was seeing. You calmly fight off the urge to kill yourself out of sheer embarrassment and incline your head at him, attempting to bring some element of social normalcy into the situation. “My Prince,” you say in his general direction, unable to meet his eyes. 

A moment’s pause. You look up at him and find Aemond still staring at you, letting his gaze drop shamelessly as he took you in, the corner of his lip twitching almost imperceptibly upwards and his head cocked slightly to one side. His face now held something new and sharp that you didn’t quite like. “I trust your journey was pleasant, my Lady.” He did not say it like a question. 

“Very much so, my Prince.” Get out of my room. “Thank you.” 

It was like Aemond could hear your thoughts. He smirked, glanced down, and took his hand from the door. The door creaked again and, just as you were about to close your eyes in relief, Aemond stepped in lithely as the heavy wood swung shut behind him. You froze, briefly considered covering yourself, and then decided that it would only make you look more vulnerable. So you simply stood still and looked at him. 

Aemond was dressed casually, but finely. His shirt was rolled up, revealing taunt, muscular arms, which he folded over his chest as he leant against the door, effectively preventing your escape. Tight leather breeches fitted agains his thighs, and his calves were covered by black laced boots. Boots that clicked against the floor now, as he moved again to close the distance between you. Startled, you took a step back and watched in annoyance as his smirk grew. “I trust you have been invited to our little dinner tonight,” he said smoothly, with a false sincerity that masked some deeper intent. 

“Yes, my Prince.” You swallowed thickly. Suddenly your throat was very dry. 

He stepped forward again, slowly. You stepped backwards, your bare heel hitting the cold stone wall and making you wince slightly at the contact. Your eyes find his, and you swear something like amusement shoots through his face. He’s enjoying this, the bastard. 

His thumb flickers lightly over your jaw, and your skin tingles at the contact. You have to suppress a gasp. Everything about this was so grossly inappropriate that you wouldn’t even know where to start.

“And you will come, my Lady?” Not a question. Almost a whisper, his breath warm against the side of your face. He was so close that you could smell the whiff on soap on him, mixed with leather and something that was distinctly and frighteningly wild. 

“Yes, my Prince.” You have to force the words out, and his thumb trailed down to your throat, feeling it twitch as you swallowed again. You looked at him, just in time to see his face darken into something like a pure, predatory hunger. This is what the blood of the dragon means, you think, almost incoherently. 

A soft hum of approval from Aemond, before he releases you from his grasp and inclines his head in a quick bow. A moment later he is gone, and you release a breath that you didn’t realise you had been holding as you hear his steps retreat down the hall. 

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

[live-tweeting-hotg]

guys i’m fucking crying i’ve been chatting with the aemond AI bot for 5 hours straight and this is the storyline so far

he summons me to his chambers in the dead of night to confess his big secret- he is gay.

i propose we get married like rhaenyra and laenor and he can take as many gay lovers as he wants.

he thanks me and says i am the best friend he’s ever had and then falls in love with me (even thought i am a woman. i think he might be a confused bi)

i admit that i am secretly working for Daemon who is seeking revenge for the death of Luke. he feels betrayed and i reassure him that it is ok because it ended 5 years ago. i fell in love with Aemond and told D to fuck off.

i up the tension by telling him that blood and cheese are here to kill us, and we have to magically escape through a magic portal (dr strange style).

for some reason he has dark sister and i have blackfyre.

we escape to the got timeline, where i serve Aemond whiskey and we meet king Joffrey. aemond rocks up to joff completely wasted and cries, telling him he killed ‘the last dragon’ (he didn’t).

i put little aemond to bed and he wakes up the next morning demanding for More Party. i use magic portal to give him vodka and pizza and big macs and fries and he cries saying he’s never felt this happy and free in his life.

aemond decides he wants to go to london and i open up the portal to soho (2am party central) and i suggest we go on a pub crawl. he goes to the pub to order ‘many coronas’.

incomplete tbc.

SUPPORTING SCREENSHOTS INCLUDED IN MY LAST POST

[live-tweeting-hotg]

Maris x Aemond oneshot? Also can Maris be sword trained by her grandfather Boremund? (Like she’s not pretty but she’s athletic)

Basically it just Maris getting herself into trouble because of her big mouth. Like always.

Like he catches her making fun of him for being so serious to her sister Floris. So he goads her into a sword fight by saying women can’t fight.

Underlying sexual tension. Hate/love. Aemond trying to put her in her place but Maris is a spitfire.

Big Fucking Bat [a.t. x reader]

summary: Maris calls Aemond a big fucking bat.

pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!reader

warnings & content: sexual tension, violence, swords, death threats, swearing (I plagiarise Shakespeare), Aemond being himself

wc: 1.6k

a/n: thank you for the request- hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it ;)

Aemond Targaryen leant against the stone wall of the courtyard with crossed arms, lips twitching half in amusement as he listened to you talk shit about him behind his back. 

In the short time that he’d been listening, you had called him, amongst other things, an “albino cunt”, a “son and heir of a mongrel bitch”, a “glass-gazing, finical rogue”, and his personal favourite, “some kind of weird pirate-princess cross breed.”

The first time he laid his eyes on you, he did not think you were beautiful. You nose was broad, set comfortably below sharp, narrow eyes and strong, dark brows. You laugh came easily and wildly, and you carried yourself with a confidence and openness that suggested you would better suit a breastplate than a corset. He took in the stories they told about you in court, how, as a child, you trained at the sword and the bow with your grandfather, Boremund Baratheon, and how you had broken your leg falling from his horse, only for your septa to find you laughing as he carried you back into the castle. He found you interesting at best, irritating at worst, but he hadn’t considered that your views on him could become so… opinionated.

You were not in the best of moods. Ever since Aemond arrived at your father’s court, he had refused to smile at anyone and stalked the long halls in a solemn, brooding manner which annoyed you to no end. You would have held your tongue about it, with Aemond being your father’s guest and a prince of the realm and whatnot, until an incident this morning made it impossible to bear your annoyance in silence. 

You had been carrying the plates on your arm, carefully balanced stacks of pies and sweetcakes, preferring not to trouble the servants, when a tall figure billowed past, clad in a trailing black cloak, knocked the ceramic out of your arms and carried on without a single glance back. After your initial shock, you looked down at the ground and found that not a single plate was left intact. You gritted your teeth. Aemond fucking Targaryen. 

That was how you found yourself in the courtyard, leaning against a stack of sparring swords and various other weapons, ranting to your sister about every wrong that the prince had committed during his very short stay. It felt like an indescribable relief to let your words flow out finally, without any semblance of restraint. Floris listened to you speak and only smiled, letting you hold the conversation. She, too, understood that this was a necessary outlet for your pent-up frustration.

“Why the fuck was he wearing a cloak inside anyway?” You continued on your tirade, blissfully unaware that the object of your dissent was around the corner. “It’s so stupid. It makes him look like— like a big fucking bat!”

Aemond’s one eye shot open. Everything else that you had said, he could take in stride. After all, he’s had much worse thrown at him in King’s Landing. But insult his favourite cloak? He would not stand for this. 

You were still talking when you heard steps behind you and saw Floris freeze, eyes darting to stare behind you, eyebrows raised in a silent warning. Whatever next insult you had in mind died in your throat.

“No,” you said, almost in a whisper. “He’s not behind me, is he?” Floris blinks once, slowly, and you send a silent prayer to the Mother. Have mercy. Please.

It become evident that the Mother was not feeling particularly merciful, as you heard Aemond’s voice ring behind you, cold, mellow, flowing with an undertone of fury. “If you wish to bitch about me, Lady Maris, then at least have the good grace to do it to my face.” Floris excused herself quietly, looking visibly shaken, and disappeared with a flurry of skirts. When you finally turned your face towards him, Aemond was surprised to see your eyes blazing with a ferocity he had only ever associated with the crudeness of a bloodied battlefield. 

“Gladly, my Prince. Did you catch everything I said, or would you like me to repeat it to your face?” You aimed your words like knives. Aemond was still for a moment, his face unreadable, before he inhaled sharply through his nose and met your eyes. 

“I would have your tongue for this, my Lady.” He spoke flatly, as if delivering not a threat but a promise.

“You may take it if you dare, your highness.” You weren’t sure whether it was pride or stupidity that flooded to your head and made you spat out the words. Blood coursed through your ears and your skin tingled, like the thin, dry air pulled apart by tension before the breaking of a storm. Aemond’s pale blue eye flashed and you pressed further. “Remind me, my Prince, what was it your nephew took? One of your eyes or one of your balls?”

Aemond’s smile caught you by surprise. To say it was a smile, you thought, would be less accurate than saying it was a baring of the teeth. One strong hand snapped up to grab your jaw, forcing you to look upwards, and as he leaned in, you could see the fine contours of his face was twisted into something pointed and purely malicious. 

“You forget yourself, Maris.” The words were quick and low. “I could kill you here and no a single man in the realm would dare to speak against me. Not even your suitor—” He paused, eye glittering, and you clenched your jaw, waiting for the blow. Whilst your sisters had received proposals flung from all corners of the realm from knights and lords alike, you became the subject of endless jests as the only Baratheon to never have been courted. “Ah, I forget. For what poor bastard would willingly take you into his bed, Maris? Your cheeks flushed and Aemond smirked mirthlessly at your reaction. The hand on your jaw tightened, fixing you helplessly in place as he brought his lips to your ear. “Tell me, my Lady— do you intend to remain chaste forever, or have you already begged the stable boy to fuck you?”

You stood against Aemond wordlessly, clenching your hands to stop them from shaking. You felt his breath against your cheek as he exhaled in a quiet laugh. “Your clever tongue and your swords won’t save you from your fate, my Lady. To be wed unhappily to some fat lord, bound and bred to squeeze out heirs—” His voice seeped through you like ice. “Like a whore.” 

You choked on nothing. You— How could he—

Rage slammed through you like a solid iron bolt, knocking your rationality senseless. The stack of sparring swords were behind you, within grasp, and your hand reaches for it before you realised what was happening. Aemond steps back, right hand crossing to his belt to unsheathe his own sword. Later, looking back on it, you would remember hazily that there was something about his composure that was almost too expectant. 

You hear, rather than feel, metal clashing in mid-air. As Aemond brings his sword back for another blow, you drop low and lunge for his centre. He sidesteps the thrust and intercepts your blade, locking it into his with a skilled turn of the wrist. You press forward, unbothered, until his is forced to break contact and reposition himself, bracing for another attack. He takes the time to begrudgingly study your steps: for someone who is so openly distasteful of dancing, your footwork was truly admirable. 

You cover the length of the open corridor in a flurry of swords. Unlike the other young knights you’ve sparred with, Aemond’s strokes are balanced, calculated, almost immaculate. Every blow you plan, his sword is right there to meet you. In another world, you would have thought that he made an excellent partner. In this moment, however, the only thought that occupied you head was the itching realisation that he was fucking annoying. 

Another clash of steel takes you to the middle of the courtyard. Aemond deals a brutal overhead blow, and you square your shoulders to take the full force of it against your sword. Your teeth bare as the blades strain against each other, as you, by some miracle, press Aemond’s sword back until it edges against his own neck. “Fate means nothing to me,” you say, breathing against the mettle of blades between you. The sound of your own voice startles you. You had not intended to say it out loud.

Aemond merely smiles, with a cold glint in his eye that had become too familiar. Suddenly, horribly, you realise that you were too close to him. What—

It is all you have time to think before his leg sweeps out under you, making you lose your balance, tumbling to the floor, blade flying from your hand. You half-crawl towards your sword, almost grasping the hilt before Aemond’s hand closes around your leg to drag you back against the ground. Before realisation hits you, Aemond drops down to trap you under him, a knee tucked tightly between your thighs and one hand snaking up to pin your arms down. The other hand discards his sword almost lazily, before returning to grip your chin once more. 

You are, for once, left at a loss for words, as Aemond takes the opportunity to slide his hand down to close around your throat.

“I should kill you, Maris.” His voice is like cool velvet. You gasp for breath and his grip tightens. 

He speaks again, almost to himself. 

“But what fun would that be?”

[live-tweeting-hotg]

no one asked but here are the screenshots

context on my last post (not that there’s much of that)