#maegor fanfic

[ashblooddragons]

Just As Bad As You Are

Request made by @athzhowakar

Summary: When a worderful lay with your husband leads to you giving him good news, but what if he pieces together your dark secret, the only thing you would ever keep from your dear older brother.

Word count: 1377

Warnings: smut, p in v, slight choking, mentions of miscarriges, mentions of poisioning, toxic relationship, Targcest, tell me if I missed anything

I moan as Maegor fucks me from behind, there isn’t a night he doesn’t take me. For why should he go to his others when they can’t give him children and I’ve already given him three?

“Maegor.” I moan out as he grabs my hair making me arch my back.

“I’m gonna put another babe in that belly of yours, you’ve been empty of my seed for too long.” he groans out as he grinds his hips just right, that he makes me see stars. 

I can’t help but laugh, for ever since the Maesters said I was fit for childbearing again there hasn’t been a morning or night that his seed wasn’t working its way inside me. “Do you truly think with how often you take me that I am not with child yet?” I say before another moan leaves my throat when his palm lands on my rear. 

“Every time I think I fuck that brat out of you, then it rears its head begging to be taught a lesson.” He says before pulling out and flipping me so I lay on my back only to slam back into me with more force and vigor than before. 

“What, no snarky remark, no comment on how I love when you’re a brat? He teases as he takes my right leg and puts over his shoulder so we both feel him go deeper. 

I can’t even speak, I just grip the hair on the back of his neck as he ruts into me. I know if any maid, courtier, or gods forbid one of his other fucking wives, walked by they would only hear the sound of skin hitting his and obscene moans. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” I beg as I feel my peak just along the horizon. 

“Go on, cum on my cock you little slut.” He demands as he reaches up to grip my throat choking me until he feels my cunt spasm around his cock as I milk him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck.” He groans out as his seed fills me before he lays against my chest.

We lay there as we both come down from our highs. Me rubbing his back tracing all his scars like constellations, and him kissing my neck and moving his hands up and down my thighs adn ribs. 

It’s these moments I feel the safest, not when I have two guards following me, or when I stand next to my darling golden Gaelithox. No, I feel the safest when I’m in the arms of the man I love, and who loves me.

“I wasn’t being a brat, the Maesters told me last night I’m with child again.” I whisper before playfully biting his ear.

His look is priceless when he leans back looking down at me as he uses his arms to hold himself up. “Do not jest.” He says with that tone that makes even men tremble, but not me.

I take his shocked state as a chance to take control and flip us so I’m on top. “I do not jest, my moon blood is two moons late.” I say as I pin his arms next to his head. We both know if he wanted to he could easily get out of my grip, but we also both know he doesn’t want to.

With those words I climb off his lap and take my robe and wrap it around me as I go to tell the guard that I am in need of a bath. As I wait I decide to brush my hair before my bath as it doesn’t need washed but it most definitely needs brushed after our escapades. 

I notice Maegor is lost in thought but assume it must be because of a council meeting, he pulls on his breaches as my Maids come in with hot water for my bath. I sigh in relief as I sink into the heat of the bath waving my Maids away. “Leave me.” 

I start to scrub my arms with pomegranate seeds not noticing Maegor taking a stool and sitting behind me. 

“You’ve never lost a babe.” His gruff voice fills my ears startling me as I turn to look up at him.

“No I haven’t?” I look at him confused, fighting the fear that fills my belly that he has figured it out. 

He only moves to take some pomegranate and my other arm starting to scrub the coarse seeds into my skin. I watch as his jaw tenses and releases and I know he knows when his eyes look into mine. 

“And yet all of my other wives have.” He says his eyes boring into mine but I will not show fear, I don’t regret what I did. “I thought Tyanna, though I suspect I was right with her. But there were many lost, too many she couldn’t have known about that left their mothers wombs too soon. My Council said you must have something to do with it, I didn’t want to believe them, but now I wonder if I should have.” He says gripping my arm to the point tears come to my eyes but I refuse to let them fall.

 “Do you want me to admit something? Perhaps make the accusation.” I hiss out as I grit my teeth. 

I watch as his nostrils flare in rage, I know he doesn’t want to accuse me, I’m his sweet little sister, but he also knows I won’t admit anything if he doesn’t accuse me first. 

“Did you force them to miscarry? Did you poison my other wives?” He demands with a scowl.

“Yes.” 

I watch as his face morphes into shock and rage. I know he must have been praying I would no, that I would deny these allegations until my last breath, but I won’t for I don’t regret what I did.

“Why?” He asks in a calm voice that I know is hiding a inferno of rage.

“Your my brother, we came from the same womb, and yet I had to share you with a barren Hightower, a whore from across the seas, and three more courtly whores. You didn’t even wed me properly, you took me at the same time as you did those two other bitches looking for any needy hound. I knew what I had to do, Mother didn’t teach me those dark ways for nothing, she knew just as I do now. That you are weak, you will take any lady or whore to your bed and call her wife, that all a man has to do is have his pretty daughter suck your cock and then he is a man to be jealous of. But I am not some Lady of court, nor am I a whore, I am a dragon and a dragon must find another of their kind or else their embers will cease to burn. So I poisoned your stupid little wives, and I made sure Tyanna didn’t touch my womb for I would be the only one to bear your children. I don’t regret it, I never would, but now you have decision to make.” I say breathless after I let all the darkness I had kept hidden from him for so long out of my heart and into the air so only us and the gods to hear and judge.

He only stares at me, tears brimming his eyes before he looks down, shaking his head. “And what decision is that?” He asks force breaking from sheer shock.

“Will you execute me, charge me for my crimes? Or will you keep this a secret that we take our graves letting no man judge me, only the gods.” I say reaching over the tub to take his hands in mine. 

I smile when I feel his hands squeeze mine and he looks back up at me and says. “Now what kind of older brother would I be to have my little sister hanged for something so trivial?” 

He then leans forward and kisses me fiercely picking me up as I wrap my legs around his waste. 

“I knew you would never betray me.” I say as he kisses down my stomach towards my core as he begins another round.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy

[targaryen-dynasty]

WORSHIP ME INSTEAD.

Maegor Targaryen x Niece!Septa!Reader

The Gods have been unhappy with your uncle for some time now, but perhaps he's just needed to give them an offering… a sacrifice in return for a healthy heir all along. And what makes a better sacrifice than a septa?

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MDNI; very dubious consent, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle/niece), blasphemy, corruption, corruption kink, size difference, semi public sex, female reader (mentions long, silver hair as appearance)

WORDS: 3K

NOTES: you're all getting some big tiddy daddy as a special treat and to officially end my 3k celebration! thanks to everyone that has participated by asking questions, by writing their own fics, and by just supporting me. also a special thanks to @zaldritzosrose and @arcielee for betaing this. <3

The atmosphere in the newly completed Red Keep is strange. It never was comfortable or calm, not even when your father sat the throne, but it feels as though a dark veil is hanging low over the castle and its staff, not even sparing the king and your uncle, Maegor Targaryen. 

You’ve been gone from court for quite a while, being sent to Oldtown to become a septa by the very hands of the man you’re serving now, which has made the change in atmosphere even more apparent to you. 

Several deaths haunt the castle — Ceryse Hightower’s being the most recent one — and you can only fathom the pressure your uncle holds on his shoulders at this very moment. He does not have an heir, one wife after the other perishes, and the boy that poses the biggest threat to his claim to the throne, your brother Jaehaerys, has fled the castle of Dragonstone with your mother after the passing of the Dowager Queen Visenya. 

You were not mad at being sent to the Starry Sept, for it allowed you to leave the insanity of your own House for an unknown amount of time. It was when you’d been called back to King’s Landing that you could feel your mood sour. You were brought there with no real task for you at hand which forced you to take over some duties Grand Maester Benifer assigned you with. 

Your whole day has been spent in the Keep’s library, making you forgo your hood at one point and therefore allowing your silver tresses to cascade down your back freely. Wearing the hood is no necessity, hence your lack of concern should someone walk into the library and catch you without it. 

With several books in hand, you sort some of the scrolls and books that had been brought to the royal chambers before, putting them back to where they belong. 

You are too engrossed in your task to notice that you’ve been alone for the longest of time, only aware of that other presence the moment the raspy voice fills the room. “Septa,” he almost says it in a mocking manner, and you immediately know who it is that has joined you. 

Turning on your heels, you crane your neck to meet your uncle’s eyes for a moment. “Y-Your Grace.” You dip into a slight curtsy, placing the books in an empty place on the shelf.

Heat warms your cheeks in his presence. Even during your childhood, you have always found a liking for your uncle and enjoyed the way he allowed you to leave the boredom of your princessly duties to take you flying on Balerion or let you watch him train with the sword. 

“At ease, Septa,” he replies, flicking his hand as if he means to dismiss your stiff posture. The library is not well lit, a few candles sparsely placed here and there granting for most of the light, and yet you still notice the way his eyes rove over your form slowly and deliberately. “I trust that all is well in the Keep?”

Your heart races in your chest underneath his gaze, as if he contemplates eating you, and it makes you swallow thickly. “Oh, yes, of course. Everything is well, Your Grace,” you say, trying to keep your voice as calm and polite as possible, though you can not help but feel your pulse quickening at the hunger in his eyes. 

His lips curve into a smile, clearly taking pleasure in the way you’re squirming beneath his gaze. “And your duties? All going smoothly?” He takes a step towards you, looming over your small frame. 

You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep your composure, more so as his pleasant scent fills your nostrils in a way you can’t describe. Taking in a shaky breath, a shiver runs down your spine. It’s been easier being close to him when you were all but a child he’s bounced on his knee, not a woman grown.  

“Well enough,” you reply a beat later. “The new midwives are coming along wonderfully. The Queen can know herself in good hands should she be with child soon.”

Maegor just hums in response, reaching out a hand to drag his knuckles over your cheek, his calloused fingers rough against your soft skin. Even from this little contact he can feel how warm your flesh is, and a heat grows in his loins at the thought of how warm and sensitive your skin would be if it was no longer covered by your septa robes. 

“That is good then… Septa ,” he says, hesitating to use your title. His voice has dropped lower as his hand travels to your jaw, his thumb caressing your chin. 

Your eyes widen, but you don’t dare to step away from him for fear of the consequences. “... Your Grace?” You eventually find the courage to whisper. 

His fingers graze your jaw, gently tracing your features. A low hum rumbles in the depth of his chest. You don’t know that he’s always found you beautiful, much more than your younger sister Rhaena, and even more now that you’ve become a woman grown. You’re so unlike the women he usually entertains himself with. “Yes, Septa?” With these words leaving his lips, his hand travels down to your neck, gently wrapping around your throat, grasp firmly but not enough to hurt you. 

Drawing in a deep breath, that is the moment you decide to bring some space between you again, taking a step back. But much to your surprise, his grip does not falter, hand still around your throat with his arm just outstretched. “I–” you swallow thickly, not able to keep your gazes locked. “This… This is highly inappropriate, Your Grace.”

Maegor merely scoffs, and although his hand follows your movements, it’s clear it’s meant to stop you from getting away from him. His thumb gently runs along the sensitive skin of your throat, feeling your pulse quicken beneath the pad of it. “Inappropriate?” he murmurs, his dark blown eyes drinking in the sight of your slightly parted lips. “When have I ever cared for what was appropriate, Septa?”

It feels as though the gentle brush of his thumb coaxes another shiver to run down your spine, and you catch your mind straying to the thoughts of what it would feel like if his fingers were anywhere else but your neck. 

“Must… Must I remind His Grace that it was him sending me to Oldtown to become a septa? I–I have vowed–” you trail off, your voice shaking slightly. “It is not very proper for a septa to be touched in… this way.”

Moving forward again and closing the gap that has formed, his hand around your throat stops you from backing away. “It’s not proper, no…” he murmurs, leaning forwards to bring his lips on level with your ear. “But then again, I’ve never been a proper man.”

You suppress an involuntary gasp as you feel his hot breath fanning over your skin, enough to nearly melt you here and now. Perhaps his grip leaves you more as a willing prisoner to his mercy rather than his prey. A part of you wants to pull away, yet the other part is afraid of angering him by doing so. 

“Y–Your Grace…” you whisper, the sound of your voice almost breathless as his domineering presence makes it difficult to think straight, “... please.”

The wicked smirk on his lips grows wider at your pleading. He can feel himself getting lost in your voice, so soft yet sounding so helpless in his presence. If it hasn’t been obvious before, he takes immense pleasure in the way he towers over your frame, making you appear so small and fragile clad in your septa robes. 

“Please what, niece ?” he says, leaning in even more to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. 

You try to tilt your head to get away from him, squirming in his grasp, but to no avail. “Īlon kessa daor,” you try to reason with him in the tongue of your ancestors, a small flicker of hope that this brings some sort of clarity back to him. We should not. 

But Maegor just chuckles lowly, the grip around your throat tightening slightly. Your breathing is uneven, shaky even, with your body pressed against his, and he relishes in the feeling of your vulnerability. “Kostilus īlon kessa daor,” he replies, a dangerous lilt in his tone. “Yn gaoman sīr jorrāelagon raqagon ra nyke kessa daor.” Perhaps we should not. But I do so love to indulge in things I shouldn’t.

Before you can answer, you’re spun around by him, the movement unusually fluid and graceful, as if he’s done it plenty of times before. Your back presses against his sturdy chest, pinning you between him and the bookshelf with no way to escape. The hand from your throat rests on your waist instead, the fabric of your robe pinched between his fingers.

“That’s much better, is it not?” he teases in a murmur. 

The vow of chastity you’ve sworn plays over and over again in your mind, but does little to stop your knees from growing weak at the proximity. 

“This is not a good idea… uncle ,” you protest quietly. It’s completely out of place for you to address him as such, he is the king and you’re a mere septa that has set aside her last name, but neither the Mother Above nor the Maiden can stop him from getting under your skin. 

“Perhaps, but where is the fun in a good idea, huh?”

You’re a septa, and you’re supposed to be a pious and celibate woman, but at this moment all you can think of is how good it feels to have him this close to you, so very close to giving you more – something you’ve craved for a long time. 

Both your hands are captured by his paw, pinning them behind your back and making you unable to move. While his lips explore the side of your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses, his other hand rucks up the skirt of your robe, bunching it around your waist. It’s pinched by the fingers of his other hand, held high and allowing him to pay more attention to your undergarments. 

If you weren’t so distracted by the coarse hairs of his beard scratching the sensitive skin of your neck with each kiss he pressed to it, you would have attempted to squeeze your thighs together, making it more difficult for him to tug down your smallclothes. But alas, your mind and body are too far gone from all the summers you have spent untouched and unsatisfied, addicted to the rush his touch sends through your body. 

He is hard and heavy behind you, the outline of his thick cock pressing against the curve of your arse. You're too desperate for something you have only imagined at night, making you arch your back as though you mean to make him hurry up. You can feel him fumble with the laces of his breeches, undoing them one by one. 

“We’ll just have to be good at not getting caught,” he rasps against your neck. The robe you wear offers almost no liberty to push it down to reveal more of your soft skin and the curve where your neck meets your shoulder to him, and so he has to make do with your neck alone. 

Your uncle is met with little resistance as he sheaths his hard cock inside of your warm cunt, filling you up at once. Not even the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into the skin at the curve of your neck grants you enough distraction from the stinging that comes with accommodating his size, your cunt struggling to take him completely. 

“By the Seven,” you whimper, your hands clenching to fists in his grasp while your walls flutter around him.  

Your soft whimpers are enough to drive him further into his need for you already, and the gentle rolls of his hips make your knees slacken, caught by him bringing his free hand to your chin to pull your body against his. “There is no need for the Gods here, my sweet Septa,” Maegor rasps into your ear, emphasizing his words with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips that makes you choke on a whine. “You may worship me instead.”

His grip on your chin forces you to tilt your head back and arch your back against him to hold up with the slowly increasing pace of his thrusts, and your teeth digging into your bottom lip is a fruitless attempt of yours to stifle a moan coaxed past them by that. 

The sound of your moans and whimpers sparks something in him, prompting him to growl against your skin. It tightens the grip he has on your chin to the point it becomes borderline painful with how much he has tilted it back. 

“Don’t hold back,” he grunts, resting his forehead against the crown of your head. “Let me hear you, sweetling.”

Although your mouth is agape, no more sounds than breathy whimpers and whines leave your lips, despite the reckless pounding of him. But when another moan manages to escape your chest, it strains your throat to the point you have to cough once. 

Sensing your discomfort, he eases the grip just slightly, shifting it to your throat and allowing your head to tip forward again. You’re desperate to fill your lungs with air, yet each breath is knocked out of them by the merciless snaps of his hips. 

“That’s it,” he groans, nudging your legs further apart with his foot. “The Gods have been unhappy with me for some time now, but perhaps I’ve just needed to give them an offering… a sacrifice.” He’s just rambling into your hair at this point, and your mind is too hazy to really process anything he says.

You’ve been so inexperienced and have spent so much time completely untouched that even the slapping of his heavy sac of stones against your pearl brings you a pleasure beyond imagination. 

He towers over you, your small frame completely hidden by his significantly taller one. It’s such an easy game for him to keep you where he wants, to use you however he pleases, and at this point you’d let him do whatever he desires with you for as long as you get to relive the sensations you feel over and over again. 

Your peak washes over you in an ambush, the pleasure all but soaring through your veins. But his assault on your cunt doesn’t stop, and when the urge overcomes you to squeeze your thighs together, it doesn’t seize. 

“Perhaps the Gods haven’t been giving me a healthy heir because they need me to fill you up,” he growls as if he’s been waiting for this since the moment he’d sent you to Oldtown, his voice raspy and thick with need. “Perhaps the Seven will bless me with a son if my seed quickens within you.”

His words nearly send you to your knees if it wasn’t for his muscular arm wrapped around your frame. A renewed wave of your arousal oozes out of your cunt at the thoughts of you carrying his child, yet it also makes you shudder, a feeling of guilt lingering in the pit of your belly. “By… By the Gods… T-The Seven would not–” you protest weakly, your voice a little more than a gasp. But even to your own ears your protest sounds more like a pleading than denial. 

Pulling you even closer against him, Maegor nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing the exposed flesh of your shoulder gently. “My little Septa,” he murmurs, the nickname almost sounding like an insult and a taunt. “You say we can not, yet you press yourself against me… are you so desperate for my cock?”

That is the moment you lose any resemblance of restraint you’ve held before, your mind becoming blank, his merciless pounding, and words forcing every thought right out of your brain. You whine a string of incoherent words, rambling one ‘yes’ after the other. 

It’s as if he’s just as desperate, because you can feel his thrusts becoming more and more erratic, a sign that lets you know he is about to topple over the edge. With a few more thrusts, he forces his thick cock into you, until a strained groan heralds his peak. His twitching cock spills his seed deep inside of your quivering cunt, and you squeeze him ever so tightly in response, all but milking him for every drop. 

He squeezes your flesh and trails both his hands over your body, mapping out the curves hiding beneath the robe. His thrusts grow leisurely, the feeling of pure bliss subsiding rather quickly for him. 

Shame and guilt for what just has happened overcomes you, growing stronger the moment he pulls out and you feel the remnants of his spend idly trickle down your thighs.

You don’t dare pull around. You don’t want to meet his gaze, to see the smugness and satisfaction written over his features at having convinced you to give in to him. 

“I suppose I have kept you away from your duties for long enough,” he says, his voice dripping with irony. “You’re a septa, and I believe you have some more duties to tend to.”

Nodding weakly in agreement, you can’t shake off the feelings of being exposed and vulnerable under his piercing gaze. It takes a moment for your brain to function again, the fog of need and pleasure only slowly clearing from your mind. 

“You’re right, Your Grace,” you say, voice weak and shaky. “I should… I should get going…” Dipping your head in a nod, you’re quick to scurry off, hastily looking around on your way out of the library in hope of no one having seen you in your moment of indiscretion.

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @k4marina @foxyanon @peachysunrize @nats-whore

@palmer-hjp @sinarainbows @luvdella

General Taglist: @arcielee @userhotd @multyfangirl @zaldritzosrose @black-dread

@wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @thought--bubble @dixie-elocin @beautbuck

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴀ ʟ ᴡ ᴀ ʏ ꜱ ᴍ ɪ ɴ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Maegor I Targaryen x Fem Reader

Summary: You were always his. From the moment you were born. And it's going to stay that way, whatever you like it or not.

Warning: Targcest, Graphic depictions of violence, Non con, Maegor himself is a warning.

Notes: English is not my first language. Art belong to dalberadiata. Hope you enjoy!

Maegor kicked a rock with all the strength his young body could muster, the jagged stone skittering across the ground and disappearing into the brush. His chest heaved with frustration, his fists clenched at his sides, and his face contorted in a mask of anger.

But no matter how much he trained, no matter how hard he fought, his father’s gaze always passed over him. Like he wasn’t even there.

His foot slammed into another rock, as he ground his teeth in fury. He wanted to be king. He would be king. One day, they would all see—his father, his brother—all of them would see.

“Boo!”

A voice, sweet and sudden, pulled him from his thoughts. His body stiffened as he turned, already prepared to strike, but it was only her. His sister, always sneaking up on him, always playing her games. She popped out from behind a tree, her eyes sparkling with mischief, a playful grin on her lips.

“Did I scare you, Maegor?” she teased, laughing softly as she plopped herself down beside him on the grass without waiting for a response.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t smile. Of course, he wasn’t scared. His hands flexed at his sides, still shaking with the remnants of his anger. He wasn’t in the mood for her games. Not today.

But she didn’t seem to notice. She never did. Instead, she sat beside him, her fingers absentmindedly plucking at the flowers that dotted the ground. She hummed softly, her hands busy weaving stems together as if there wasn’t a care in the world.

“I’ll be king one day,” he muttered, his voice low, angry. His fists tightened as he stared ahead, his vision still blurry with unshed tears. “You’ll see. I’ll be a great king. Someone important. Stronger than father. Stronger than anyone.”

She nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t listening. She never really listened when he talked about his plans. She was too busy with her flowers, too lost in her own world of pretty things and laughter. He frowned, watching as she twisted the stems in her delicate hands, her smile never faltering.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, his frustration bubbling up again.

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide, as if his anger didn’t bother her at all. Her smile only grew, and she held up the thing she had been working on. “Done!” she announced, her voice soft and sweet, like the sound of a gentle breeze. She leaned over and placed it on his head—a crown of flowers, woven with care, resting lopsided on his dark hair.

Maegor blinked, confused, his anger momentarily forgotten. He reached up to touch the crown, his brows furrowing as he tried to understand what she had done.

“What is this?”

She smiled at him, that same sweet, soft smile that always made something in his chest ache. “Even if you don’t become king, you’re still my king, Maegor.” Her voice was full of warmth, full of love. “Always.”

He stared at her, the confusion in his eyes deepening. She was always like this—so full of life, so bright. Too bright for someone like him. Too soft for a world as harsh as theirs. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond.

But now, when he looked at her, the only thing that remained was death.

Her body was cold in his arms, a shell of the girl she used to be. Her eyes, once full of light, now stared blankly ahead, her mouth silent as always. But that was alright. She didn’t need to speak. She didn’t need to smile.

He still loved her.

Even like this.

She was dressed in beautiful silk, her hair brushed and perfect, her lips still stained with the remnants of the last kiss he’d given her earlier. She looked like a doll. Fragile. Beautiful. Untouched. He dragged his hand down her neck, savoring the coldness of her skin, feeling the shiver of pleasure that ran through him.

But the silk? That was a pity. He was going to rip that apart anyway.

He pulled her into his lap, her body limp and pliant, her head lolling to the side as he pressed his lips to her neck. He bit down, hard, savoring the taste of her skin, his teeth sinking in deep enough to draw blood. His hand slid between her legs, fingers pushing against her cunt, trying to get her wet. She didn’t move, didn’t react, but he didn’t care. She would be ready for him. She had to be.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into her skin, his voice dark and rough as he kissed along her neck, his bites growing harder, more savage. “You’ll give me a son. A true son. Something none of those useless cunts could do.” His fingers moved faster, harder, forcing her body to respond. “We’ll name him Aegon. After father. What do you think?”

He pulled back, his eyes gleaming as he looked at her face. Her tears were falling now, silent as always, sliding down her cheeks like the rain.

Oh, right. He had cut her tongue out.

He laughed then, a deep, guttural sound that echoed in the room. How could he have forgotten? She had screamed, hadn’t she? Begged him to stop, to leave her alone. She didn’t want to be his wife. She didn’t want him. But that hadn’t mattered. Not to him. He had made sure she couldn’t refuse him ever again.

He wiped her tears with his thumb, pushing it into her mouth as he did. “It’s alright,” he whispered, his voice soft, mocking. “I love you still. I like you more like this.”

Then he kissed her, hard and rough, his mouth devouring hers as his hand gripped her neck, holding her in place. She didn’t kiss back, didn’t move, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need her to.

He shoved himself inside her, his thrusts brutal, each one harder than the last. Her body didn’t fight him, didn’t resist. She took him in silence, her tears falling faster now, her eyes empty as they stared at the ceiling. But Maegor didn’t stop. He pounded into her, growling with each thrust, determined to make her his in every possible way.

“You're mine,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous as he fucked her harder. “Always have been and always will be.”

She didn’t respond. She never did. But that was fine.

When he was done, when her body was limp and unconscious beneath him, he pulled out, only to push his seed back inside her, forcing it deeper, making sure she would carry it.

“You’ll be a mother,” he whispered, his hand pressing against her stomach, possessive. “The mother of my child.”

His.

Always his.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[fairysluna]

Helloooo, thanks for sharing your writing with us, I love all of your fics specially sinners 🤍🧸⭐️

For the short drabbles could you do Maegor + asking for his niece’s favor at a tourney

this is such a cute idea! i love this so much. Also, thank you for your kind words, I hope you like this🤍✨

tags — fluff, rhaena being lowkey a hater, reader being delulu (like all of us).

The way the whole crowd roared with excitement when the royal prince came out victorious from the tournament was deafening. You were laughing excitedly, clapping as your smile couldn't get any bigger. Eyes shining as bright as stars at midnight as you watched your beloved uncle smiling back at you from afar. Your beloved older sister, Rhaena, was sitting next to you wearing an unfazed expression on her face, completely opposite to the cheerful attitude you had.

From your seat, you saw Maegor galloping slowly towards the royal family, wearing that winning smile that you loved so dearly as he rested his lance against his shoulder. The butterflies that appeared on your belly were hard to ignore when he started to get closer and closer to you. You fixed your hair, nervously played with your fingers and impatiently waited for him to get close enough to hear his voice. At your side, your sister scoffed, already annoyed by your attitude towards your uncle, with whom you wished to marry; she had heard all of it, and she was tired of hearing that man's name coming from your lips.

But you couldn't care less about it.

Your attention was all over the man on the horse in front of you, standing proudly and looking so gallant inside that thick metal armor of his, you couldn't help but to bite your lip before he decided to open his mouth and say, “May I have the honor to ask for the princess' favor?” He didn't even have to specify which princess he was talking about, for every single person knew he meant you. They all certainly knew about the close relationship you had with him.

You slowly arose from your seat, taking with you the crown of flowers that you made early that morning, especially for him. You walked closer to the railing and looked down at him, feeling the air getting caught in your throat as you saw him more up close. He removed the helmet of his armor, wanting to look into your pretty eyes before he uttered the next words. “I'm convinced that everytime the sun rises you become far more beautiful, my princess.” He spoke slightly lower, as if he wanted just you to hear. You couldn't help but to feel suddenly shy under his mischievous stare, the heat on your cheeks growing as you tried to look away from him.

“You flatter me, uncle,” you replied, managing to throw the crown of flowers down the lance. “I feel like the most beautiful maiden in the Seven Kingdoms whenever you speak with such kindness to me.”

“Well, you are, my dear.” He winked at you. “Before I leave, allow me to remind you that this victory, as well as the ones that are yet to come, are dedicated to you. My beautiful princess.” A silly, enamored smile was drawn on your lips as he turned around in his black horse and galloped away from you. He made you feel all kinds of things in such a little amount of time, including a strange, new sensation located in your lower belly which you decided it was best to ignore.

Once you returned to your seat, you found your sister staring at you with a visible frown on her face. “Could you be any more obvious? You left a path of your drool behind you.”

“I will marry him someday,” you told her, your voice filled with the purest of illusions.

Rhaena could only roll her eyes.

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GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

MAEGOR TAG LIST — @targaryen-dynasty @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariahossain

[green-watcher]

Maegor the Cruel had 6 wives total, largely due to his inability to produce an heir. They were Ceryse Hightower, Alys Harroway, Tyanna of the Tower, Elinor Costayne, Jeyne Westerling, and his niece Rhaena Targaryen. His first wife was Ceryse Hightower, whom he married in 25 AC, after the conquest.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Death's Servant

vampire!maegor x fem!servant!reader

Summary: You are Maegor's personal servant who sees to most, if not all of his needs regardless of what he requires. 

Warnings: 18+ it’s maegor, blood, death(not mc), violence, a hint of humiliation, oral(m+f), p in v, period sex, overstim

Authors Note: this is a lot and self indulgent also ig i’m in some vampire mood so i’m sure i’ll write another soon 🤷🏼‍♀️ why would i write for one of the million ongoing mini series i have when i could write another random one shot 🤔

Word Count: 3k

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There has been a large number of servants going missing from around the Keep and people are beginning to whisper. I have the privilege, or horror, of knowing what becomes of these people. It is known Maegor is a cruel man and King and rumors of him drinking the blood of his enemies aren’t too far off. In honesty, I’m the one who pours it into his chalice for him. 

Word around the castle is that Maegor had just returned from Dragonstone. It’s been said that he seems angry and upset and I start to make my way up to his chambers. As I reach the top of the steps I stop in my tracks. I hear a sudden scream and then it’s cut short. I push open Maegor's chamber doors with a sigh before I seal them behind me. 

“You’d be smart to knock next time.” his mouth is against my neck the second I step foot into his solar. 

“You must keep your meals quiet.” I hum walking past him looking at the poor male servant leaning over the edge of the tub. “What are you doing?” I tilt my head watching the man’s neck wound gush into his bath water. 

“Preparing a bath.” his breath fans across my neck. 

“Usually I do that for you.” I turn and look up at him. 

“I wanted to try something new.” he looks to the tub behind me.

“You may need more than just him.” I walk over to the steaming water and sigh at the mess. “What am I to fill your chalice with, my King?” I turn and find him towering behind me. 

“Go fetch me another.” he smirks and I sigh brushing past him. “Quickly.” he’s at the doors pushing them open for me. 

I close my eyes and exhale as the doors snap shut behind me. I question my sanity and self preservation everyday but I can’t bring myself to leave the Keep and out of his thrall. Wherever I go he’d be able to find me. Maegor is a paranoid man, if I were to leave he’d rip the realm apart just to kill me rather than have me and my knowledge go on. There’s not many who know of what he is besides his mother. 

I push these thoughts from my mind as I enter the servants quarters. Everyday they look at me as if I’m a miracle for still breathing after catering to Maegor. I start to collect some oils and soaps and approach two of the older men who make some of the other servant girls uncomfortable. I don’t necessarily like picking people to bring up to Maegor, it makes me feel like The Stranger made flesh. When he makes me find him his meals I try to pick people that most won’t miss. 

“Could you both help me bring some more hot water up, please?” their eyes travel up my body before they stand. They agree and I tell them to bring the buckets to the Kings chambers. I make my way back up the stairs and slip into Maegor's chambers. 

“This is not blood.” he pulls the basket from my hand. 

“No, it’s not.” I hum taking the basket back and he chuckles lowly. “It’s on its way up. Along with more bath water. So contain yourself until they finish their job.” I bring the oils and soaps to the tub. 

“It amazes me you never cease to keep an attitude with me.” his tongue darts across my pulse and my body stills. “Do you not fear death?” his hand wraps up my front and engulfs my chin and cheek turning it to the side. 

“Am I not death's servant bringing you your meals?” I hum letting my eyes shut. “Though, I think you should start sourcing your meals outside of the Keep.” his movements stop and he turns me to face him. 

“Why?” he looks at me curiously. 

“Because you won’t have any servants left if you keep draining them all.” I shake my head at the obvious fact. 

“I’ll still have you.” his low words stir something inside of me. 

“Will you not kill me too, my King?” I look up at him. 

“I plan to keep you with me forever.” he pulls me closer. “As long as you never betray me.” he searches my eyes. 

“I would never betray you Maegor.” I reach up cupping his face. 

“Your devotion is unmatched. I want-“ he cuts himself off as the male servants enter his chambers. He’s at the doors the next second, sealing the four of us inside. Once they step deeper into his chambers their feet stop as they take on the bathtub. “Go ahead and pour the water in.” Maegor looks at them with a feral smile. 

Water starts to slosh out the sides of the buckets as the servants approach the tub with quaking hands. The body is still draped over the tub as his neck is still slowly leaking. They dump the water in and turn with pale faces. Maegor steps forward and one of them drops their bucket. He starts to apologize but Maegor is sinking his teeth into his neck before slamming him over the tub to fill the tub with more. The other servant stands there frozen in shock. 

“It’s better if you stay still.” I hum walking over to him. Maegor watches as I have the servant sit on the lip of the tub. I hold my hand out and Maegor places his dagger into my palm. I slice the servant's arm and he looks at me in horror as I let his blood flow into an awaiting chalice. 

“I want to watch you kill him.” Maegor purrs from above me. 

“At least let me pour you a couple more cups.” I hold up the now full chalice to him. He nods at me sipping from his cup. As he pulls it away from his now red mouth he offers me a pink smile. The servant has gone into a state of shock which helps me fill more for Maegor. After I’ve filled three I look up at Maegor who’s licking his lips. “How do you want me to kill him?” I blink up at him. 

“Quickly and over the tub. I wish to bathe before the water freezes.” I scoff at his words and rise. I look down at the man before me and let out a sigh. I lift the blade and swipe it across his neck. I flare my nostrils as his blood sprays across my neck and shove the dagger back into Maegor's hand. I go to reach for a cloth and he pulls me over to him. His tongue darts across my neck and I squeak. 

“Maegor,” I gasp, holding on to his arms. He slowly lets his tongue collect the droplets sliding down my chest. He starts to untie my dress and my nails dig into his skin. “I thought you didn’t want your bath to get cold.” my voice breathy. 

“You should thank your King for cleaning you up.” he rasps against my skin as I feel his teeth press against my skin. Not hard enough to break through but enough to have me clinging against him. 

“Thank you, my King.” I scold myself for how much I allow him to affect me. He places one last kiss against my pulse before stepping back. He turns me around and ties my dress back up. “Such a generous King.” my tone teasing and his hand lands hard on my backside. 

“I’m getting quite tired of your mouth today.” I turn my head and scowl at him. He twists me around before shoving me down to my knees. I look up to him nibbling my lip with a smile knowing this was bound to happen. I reach up and start to unlace his trousers and he chuckles cupping my cheek. “Look how eager you are.” his hand twists and he pushes his thumb into my mouth. I wrap my lips around his thumb and let my tongue slide against the pad. 

I free him from his trousers and he pulls his thumb out and shoves himself in my mouth. He holds onto my hair as he roughly thrusts into my mouth. I moan around him as spit leaks out the side of my lips. He groans, digging his fingers into my scalp as he pulls my hair moving me against him. I let him use me for his pleasure and I’m no stranger to his harsh and heated touch. He pulls out and slides his tip around my lips and my tongue chases after him. He shoves himself back into my mouth and begins to hit the back of my throat. Tears start to fall down my face and he quickens his pace. He pulls back out with a loud groan and starts to fist himself. 

“Open your mouth.” he growls and I do as I’m told and let my tongue push out of my mouth. The hand that’s buried in my hair starts to tighten and I whine and his pleasure starts to fall across my mouth and face. It mixes with my tears and spit and his grip on my hair starts to loosen. “Go get me more hot water.” he breathes heavily, leaning down and looking me in the eyes. “As you are. Let everyone in the Keep see how much of a whore you are for your King.” he tugs me up to my feet and hauls me to his doors. 

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I hold my cloak tighter to me and I quickly walk down the steps. I knew Maegor was paranoid but having these tunnels built is a new extreme even for him. I hold the candle out in front of me offering me the smallest amount of light. I’ve requested torches to be lined across the walls if he wants me to keep bringing him his meals. He tells me over and over that he’ll hire more men yet here I am and the only light is surrounding my body. 

I make my way down another set of stairs and the air starts to get cooler. I pull the hood up as I approach the familiar iron gates and get the key out of my pocket. I’ve convinced Maegor to start dining upon the dungeons and the servants have been relieved at the lack of their friends going missing. I grab a man from the closest cell and unlock the door. I grab him by the chain connecting his hands and begin hauling him out and back up the stairs. I pull him through the entrance in Maegor's chambers and close it behind me. 

“I love the torches you've installed in the tunnels.” I push the prisoner over to him. 

“I said-“ he stops and looks at me with a smile. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he licks his lips while walking over to me. 

“I’ve told you time and time again to get me fucking torches Maegor.” I don’t care about the bite in my voice and he chuckles stalking closer. 

“Not the torches.” he pushes my hair off my shoulder. “That you’re having your moon blood.” he ghosts his lips over my pulse. 

“I haven’t had the chance.” I push his chest and nod over to the man I brought up to him. 

“I want you.” he starts to pull up my dress. 

“I just hauled him up here in those dark tunnels.” I try to push his hands off of my skirts. “You will have him first.” I purse my lips. 

“The way you speak to me is maddening.” his eyes darken. I roll my eyes at him pulling him over to the man who’s shaking at Maegor's presence. He quickly sinks his teeth into the man who struggles in his grip. Maegor drinks at him greedily before I hear the snap of bone. The man crumbles to the floors and Maegor turns to me wiping his mouth on his arm. “Get on the bed.” his eyes lock on mine. 

“Promise to get me torches before the end of the week.” I stand my ground looking up at him. 

“I don’t care about your fucking torches.” he says through his teeth starting to walk me backwards to the bed. 

“Then I don’t care about getting you food.” I hum raising my chin and he starts to laugh. “Or making your baths. Or serving you. Or anything.” his hand slides to the back of my head tilting it up to look in his eyes. 

“I will get you your torches by the end of the day tomorrow. Now get on the fucking bed.” he clenches his jaw. I slowly sink down onto the bed and he grabs my hips, lifting me and pushing me further up. He rips my dress off of me and I prop myself up and glare at him. He pushes my legs apart groaning at the blood glistening between them. “Next month I want you in my chambers the second this comes. I want to spend the whole week between your thighs.” he buries his head between my legs and I shutter as his tongue lashes against me. 

“Maegor, my King,” I whine, shaking against his face. His fingers dig into my hips as he shoves his tongue into my core. I gasp gripping his hair as his tongue lashes against my sensitive bud. He wraps his arm around to allow his fingers to swirl against my bud and he trails his tongue back down to my core. His fingers push me over the edge and I burst across his tongue and he pulls my hips flush against his mouth. 

His tongue slams into me and wrecked whimpers spill from my mouth. Maegor continues to lap against me while I shake above him. My fingers dig into his arm as his fingers circle my bud faster. I feel my pleasure build rapidly and my breathing is a mix of gasps and pants. A cry falls from my mouth as his tongue speeds up. I try to buck my hips into his face and he chuckles into me before he begins to slowly grind me against his tongue. 

“Maegor,” I whimper. He stills me again and lets his tongue flick against my bud. I fall apart and he slowly licks me through every wave of pleasure. He lifts up and looks at me and I flush at his red mouth and chin. He leans back and pulls his tunic off and pushes his trousers down. He lines himself up and pushes fully into me. “Gods my King.” my eyes roll to the back of my head as he starts to slam into me. My fingers start to claw at his arms and he plucks them off and holds my hands above my head. 

“You always take my cock so fucking good.” he grunts as I arch up into him. He licks across my neck and I whine feeling his teeth graze against my skin. He sucks against my pulse and I clench around him. His fingers dig into my wrists as he loses himself in me. With every thrust a moan is torn from me. I come undone around him and he lets out a low groan. “Just begging for me to fill you up.” his hips start to hammer into me and my legs wrap around him. 

“Please, my King,” my voice cracks. His lips crash to mine and I still give a surprised squeak at the metallic taste. His mouth is rough and unyielding as he pushes his tongue into my mouth. He releases my hands and they cling to his shoulders as he repeatedly snaps his hips into mine. His fingers swirl against my bud and I scream as pleasure slams through me. He fills me with  one last hard thrust pushing me up the bed. He pulls out of me quickly and I feel our pleasure leaking out. I watch him staring between my thighs and I go to close them and his hands hold onto them. “Maegor,” my voice broken as I watch him lower his face between my thighs again

“You’ll be fine. You should be thanking me.” he smiles before softly licking against my sensitive bud. He flicks his tongue against me and I toss my head back into the pillows. I fist the sheets while he holds my legs open showering me with pleasure. 

“Please,” a breathless plea falls from my lips followed by waves of pleasure slamming through me. His lips incase my bud and I bring my hands to his hair to try and pull him away. “I can’t-I,” his fingers push into my core and I shutter. His fingers curl and my breath catches as my stomach tightens. His fingers are joined by his tongue as he brings his other hand to my center to swirl my bud. My thighs slam around his face now that they're able and he continues as I cry above him. My high crashes through my body and my thighs tremble around his head. He slowly pulls my legs back open and spreads featherlight kisses across the inside of my thighs. “No more.” I plead, grabbing his arm. 

“For now we’re going to rest.” he kisses up my body before collapsing next to me. He pulls me against his chest and slowly trails his fingers up and down my spine. “You’ll stay with me.” he hums holding me closely and I nod my head against his chest allowing my eyes to droop. 

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masterlist 🔌 

ummmm n e ways 🧎🏼‍♀️

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld

[athzhowakar]

Queen of Hidden Evils (Chapter I)

✒️ Maegor × Toxic OC wife

✒️ Summary: Maegor needs to find a new wife since his existing wives have failed to provide him an heir. He sends a proposal to a lesser lordly house of the Crownlands, asking the hand of the Lord's widowed sister. Maegor has heard very little about that woman but what really matters for him is the fact that, she has a ten year old daughter and hence, her fertility is proven.

✒️ Trigger warning: Mature content

✒️ Next part: Chapter II

The Red Keep :

“And whom do you suggest this time, Grand Maester?” King Maegor said reluctantly. He was getting quite tired of marrying again and again but he made sure no one knew that.

“Your Grace, if it pleases you, I would suggest Lady Lucinda Rosby,” Grand Maester Benifer replied.

Stroking his beard, Maegor said, “Lucinda Rosby? I have never heard much about her.”

“She is a woman of proven fertility, Your Grace,” Grand Maester Benifer said. “She has a ten years old daughter.”

“She is a widow, I suppose. Her husband was the elder brother of the current Lord Stokeworth, who died in a hunting accident,” Maegor said, trying to recall the events.

“Ser Bennard Stokeworth was a brave man, Your Grace. He was fond of riding horses and hunting. Unfortunately, that took his life just two years after his marriage. He left behind a three month old daughter and a grieving young wife. Her Ladyship was only eight and ten when she was widowed. She has been a widow ever since,” Grand Maester said.

Maegor looked at him and remarked, “A quite devoted woman or perhaps quite picky.”

“What are the orders for me, Your Grace? Shall I send a raven to Lord Rosby or perhaps a messenger?” Grand Maester asked.

“Send a messenger, Grand Maester. Ravens are comparatively less impressive. Who knows? That picky lady of the Rosbys might find that raven ugly and drive it away without reading the message,” Maegor said with a tone which certainly did not reveal whether he was being sarcastic or serious.

The Grand Maester paid his respects and left the king's chamber.

Maegor stood up a while later and arrived at Queen Rhaena's chamber.

“Beloved Niece!” Maegor exclaimed.

“Not at all beloved Uncle!” Rhaena responded back with an equally enthusiastic tone to mock him.

Maegor grabbed her waist as she tried to wriggle away. He whispered into her ears, “Don't you think that you are being too insolent, my dear wife?”

Rhaena mocked him by saying, “How do you expect me to talk to a kinslayer and usurper?”

“We could have been the most powerful king and queen the seven kingdoms have ever seen. You could have been a good wife to me and given me a son or a daughter or both. And yet, you choose to provoke me, mock me and dig your own grave,” Maegor said tightening his grip on her waist.

Rhaena replied, “I do not want any of that.”

“What do you want then?” Maegor almost screamed.

Rhaena said, “Nothing from you.”

Maegor let go of her. Rhaena took a deep breath and saw her uncle approaching her. She was scared as her uncle was unpredictable and crueler than anyone she had known.

“Do you think that you would have a better life without me?” Maegor asked. “You resent me for sending away your whores whom you call companions. But do you think that oaf of your brother would have allowed that? That fool tried to fight against me atop a dragon which wasn't even half the size of my dragon. You think that he could have kept you happier? You wish for me to die, don't you? You do not wish to give me a child. Isn't that why you have been secretly taking moon tea and poisoning your womb? I know everything. But I stayed silent because I love you and because you are my blood.”

“That is all a lie. You do not love me. You do not love anyone but yourself,” Rhaena said, spitefully.

Maegor replied angrily, “Foolish woman! Do you know what will happen to you if I die today? I made you the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms but if I die today, you will no longer be the queen. You will not be the Dowager Queen either, for you have given me no child which I can call mine. If I die, your brother Jaehaerys will be the king and perhaps your sister Alysanne will be the queen or whichever daughter of lickspittle your mother chooses. You will have nothing. No one will care for your opinions anymore and no one will respect you the way they do now. My own mother forged the Seven Kingdoms along with my father, with fire and blood. And yet, when your father was the king, she had no choice but to see her kingdom almost perish into nothing. What have you done compared to her? Your fate will be much worse.”

“Is that why you came here? To remind me of how great you are and how lucky I am to be alive and have you as my husband?” Rhaena asked him with tears in her eyes.

“Oh no, certainly not,” Maegor said. “I came here to tell you that I have decided to take another wife. I have already sent the proposal.”

“And who is that unlucky woman?” Rhaena asked.

“Lady Lucinda of House Rosby,” Maegor replied.

Rhaena burst into laughter on hearing the name.

Confused, Maegor asked her, “What happened? What is the matter?”

“If you hadn't killed that Pentosi witch, she would have certainly told you how her husband died. You do not know that, do you?” Rhaena said, laughing.

Maegor said, “He died in a hunting accident.”

Rhaena laughed again and said, “Things people say to keep their honour. One of my previous companions was Samantha Stokeworth, the younger sister of her husband, Ser Bennard Stokeworth. She told me something that you do not know.”

“And what is that?” Maegor asked.

“Apparently, her husband had a lowborn paramour. Lady Lucinda had that wench killed, and her head and entrails served to her husband when he was about to break fast on the morrow, while on his hunting trip. Ser Bennard was horrified when he saw his paramour's severed head wrapped in her entrails, and died of shock in his tent,” Rhaena said with an evil smile on her face. “I wish you luck, Uncle. I am sure she is the perfect wife for you.”

Rosby Castle :

Lady Prunella Stokeworth, a maid of ten, was the only Stokeworth living in the Rosby Castle. Lady Rosby used to think that it might be more proper if she lived in the Stokeworth Castle with her people but as the girl grew older, that thought vanished. The girl though comely, did not even possess a quarter of the beauty that her mother and Lady Rosby's goodsister, Lucinda Rosby did. However, Prunella seemed lovely enough to Lady Rosby. As a matter of fact, she had even convinced Lady Lucinda to get Prunella betrothed to her son.

It was another evening when Lady Rosby was having a chat with Prunella in her chamber.

“Aunt, is it true that the king wishes to marry my mother?” Prunella asked Lady Rosby.

Lady Rosby said, “It is true, little one. A messenger arrived this morning with a letter from His Grace. If we agree, he intends to wed her two moons later.”

“Will Uncle agree to this?” Prunella asked.

“Oh my sweet summer child, it is not really a proposal. It is an order and your uncle cannot defy it. However, we have to convince your mother as well,” Lady Rosby replied.

Just then, Lady Lucinda entered the chamber. She had just returned from the Castle Sept.

“May I join?” Lucinda asked.

“Sure. Let me pour you a cup of wine,” Lady Rosby said.

Prunella asked her mother, “Mother, have you heard about the proposal that came from the king?”

“I have,” Lucinda replied without a visible expression on her face.

“Are you going to reject the proposal?” Prunella asked.

Lucinda chuckled and said, “Foolish girl! Why would I refuse to become the queen?”

..

..

..

..

To be continued

[asykriel]

Love is the Death of Duty in a summary.

[sins-of-the-dragons]

Maegor Targaryen x Reader

Your husband gave you a proud approving look as you pour more wine into the cup of the king. Maegor and your husband have been "friends" for many years, from winning wars together to sharing women. Maegor's visit is for political reasons but that doesn't mean him and your husband can't have fun.

Maegor was practically undressing you with his eyes. The feast means very little to him. The dancers making sensual moves meant nothing compared to you. Ever since Maegor arrived, your husband has been telling him about you and Maegor's lust growing every time he sees you.

The feast was not even over when your husband sent you to your room. Your husband knows Maegor too well and is sure how to take care of him. After all he is the king, and the king deserves the best.

A little while later your husband and the king also left the feast, laughing about their wars and kills. Maegor didn't question it when your husband took him to your room. Maegor's eyes immediately got dark with lust as soon aa he saw you.

There you were on the bed, wearing a see through beautiful dress, loose hair, flowers on the bed of silk. "my king" You softly moaned. Your husband walking over and kissing you deeply, touching you as he made you look at Maegor.

Maegor approached. He expected nothing less from the wife of his best friend. You looked at him with admiration and desperation as he put his hand around your neck, mildly chocking you before pulling you in for a kiss. "Don't be too gentle with her," your husband laughed. "She is made for us."

Maegor smirked as he ripped away your dress and then the two just pounced on you. Hands and lips all over your body. You gasped loudly when you felt both of their fingers in you. Marks have already started to form on your body

Maegor didn't waste much time before he positioned himself between your legs. "Beg your king to fuck you," Your husband said from behind as he continue to touch you.

"Please my king, please...please fuck me," You desperately begged. Maegor's eyes grew darker and you let out a loud moan when he entered you. Your moans were heard by everyone outside as he increased his pace.

Soon you find yourself between the two once again. This time your husband taking you from behind, whispering praising words in your ears. It was all proving to be too much but the pleasure was on another level, and what kind of wife and loyal subject would you be if you give up

Your husband kissed you as they both pulled out "my beautiful wife". The relief only lasted for a short while before they claimed you again.

Once they both had their fun they let you rest, cum still inside you. You feeling exhausted but completely satisfied.

Your husband and Maegor didn't even bother covering themselves as they sat on the chairs watching you sleep, with wine in their hands.

"The reason I am really here is because of the future of my house," Maegor explained. "My son (Maegor ii) will need a worthy wife by his side when he comes of age, and your wife just gave birth to a girl a few months ago" Your husband smirked when he realized what Maegor was proposing. He has heard about the young prince, he is just like his father Maegor. And future king. "Let's join our houses"

[sugarprincessbitch]

Targaryen men x Targ! Wife Reader

(Reader suffers the same death as Laena)

Warning ⚠️ (Angst).

Maegor Targaryen x reader, Aegon Targaryen x reader, Aegon II Targaryen x reader, and Aemond Targaryen x reader

Aegon II

The king's council was pressuring you and Aegon to give the throne a heir, despite being pregnant three times none of each were a boy, instead you had three beautiful daughters.

Now you were in your fourth pregnancy. Wanting to be near your mother, princess Rhaenyra, in your labor, your little family decided to move to Dragon stone.

The labor started early than expected, but that wasn't saw as a problem because the pregnancy developed normally.

Your mother and the maester were inside the room with you, meanwhile Aegon was walking impatiently outside your birthing chambers with the fear of something going wrong. Daemon and the boys tried to calm him down, reassuring him that you were at the hands of the best maester and midwife's they could found and you where going to be fine.

Hours passed and you were still fighting in that room to bring your child to the world, wrenching screams could be heard in all Dragon stone, but none of a child, only yours.

Suddenly the door open, and the pale face of the master came into view, he told Aegon that the baby was stuck inside of you and the only way of get it out was to cut you open.

Angered by the maester words he was ready to strangle him right there, but your anguished callings stop him before doing something.

You were bedridden, pale as a ghost and sweating a lot, the baby was slowly killing you each passing hour.

Rhaenyra was at one side of the bed, trying to calm you down by whispering sweet things in your ear, but by the look of her face she was also deeply worried by your state.

when he was finally at your side you told him to help you get up, and ignoring the pain you stubbornly start to walk outside the room despite the pleadings of the others.

Aegon start to follow you, calling and pleading that you will be fine and there will be another way. You still didn't want to listen to him and continue walking.

He found himself outside, inside the dragon pits he found you. You were in front of your dragon saying something that he couldn't comprehend, his panic calls were covered by a roar and you were engulf by flames.

Aegon started to scream horrified by the view as his legs gave out and he stumbles against the hard floor. He felt his heart tear apart. A river of tears run along his face at the sight of your body, your burnt body.

After that horrible night Aegon was not the same, he was a shell of the man he was with you. For his family pity, he returned to his old habits, ignoring all his responsabilities in court and as a father, neglecting your daughters.

His mother and grandfather force him into a new marriage, saying that he still needed a heir.

Poor the unlucky woman that married Aegon, because the shadow of your memory will be always there to haunt her.

Maegor I

You were the only wife that had given him children and pure blooded too, due to being his half sister. Because of that you were the most dear and important wife of Maegor, treating you with a fondness that was rare of him.

The maester had warn him to not try for more children, your health was fragile since having many children without repose, another pregnancy could cost you not only your life but also the one of the baby.

Maegor didn't listen to it and stated that his wife should do their duty to him as a woman without caring if she wanted or not. That was the end of the discussion.

The new pregnancy developed progressively worse as months passed, debilitating the mother day after day.

Visenya was the only one that had permission to attend the pregnancies of the queen, due to the fact that Maegor wasn't fond of maesters, believing them to be useless for caring correctly of her sister-wife.

In the middle of the night you went in labor, Visenya and the midwife's were the only ones present with you. Maegor was on one of his campaigns battling the faith, so he couldn't be present.

It passed a long time and the baby didn't wanna come out, there was blood everywhere and the women in the room shared with each other worried faces.

Due to the pain pleadings of the queen, Visenya decided to call a maester. The maester tried without effectiveness, stating that the only way the baby would come out is by cutting you open.

Knowing the end was near, you pleaded to Visenya that if you were going to die you wanted to do it at the hands of your dragon, not of the maester "From fire I was born, from fire I will die" you said.

When Maegor landed in kings landing the news of the torturous labor and death of his wife reach his ears.

He immediately saw red, mad with fury he grab his sword and went to search for the one or ones guilty of your death.

That day it was told that the fury of the dragon rain upon the people of kings landing, no one was saved from Maegor's want for blood.

He burned, tortured and killed everyone that was in charge of your well being. When no one was left to appease his Mad pain, innocents were also slay. But no killing or torture could fill the hole in his wrenching chest, the one you and your unborn child left behind.

Aegon I

They say that Aegon married his three sisters for different reasons. He married Visenya for duty, Rhaenys for love and you for devotion.

You were his twin, the half of his soul, the mother of his only daughter. His sweet Daenerys.

Your second pregnancy came as a glad surprise for the two of you and the kingdom, after the tragic death of your little sister at the hands of Dorne, in the castle there was only days for mourning or sadness. So the unexpected new was a ray of hope for everyone, specially Aegon who desperately needed a little hope to grab on to.

All different types of maesters were pestering you day and night all along the duration of the nine months, this was a direct order of their king and their queen, your older sister Visenya. The two of them worried about the fragile state you were in.

Because of you being a little pass your prime, the announce of you being pregnant was a miracle on itself, and the dangers of having a baby at your age was of their over protectivness.

You were now two days in labor, since your contractions starting in the early morning of the first day and continuing in the night of the second day, you haven't stop pushing.

Everyone was in distress and the tension was burdensome in the air, Aegon vigilant gaze and your sister angry commands were not helping at all.

That second night Visenya nor Aegon could be with you, an important meeting regarding the next attack to Dorne was held, and you found yourself all alone in a room full of strangers.

The pain was now unberable, each passing day with your baby stuck in you was agonizing, you knew death was in the horizon although Aegon didn't want to acknowledge it, extending your suffering.

In one of your moments of consciousness you got up of bed. Shoving the maester and servants aside, you got out of the room.

A terrified servant abruptly interrumpt the meeting and told them about your current disappearence. For a second Aegon was shock in place by the horrifying news, that hesitation was enough time for Visenya to start screaming commands to the guards to inmediatly find you.

They found you in the dragon pit, screaming to your dragon, pleading him for mercy. Aegon was the last one to get to there. Seeing you in just a dangerous situation send him on edge and without thinking it he tried to run to you, but the fire was quicker and reached you first.

A part of Aegon died that day in the fire with you, his hope was lost, everything was lost without you by his side. He attached himself to the only part of you that was left, your daughter.

Your loss was the final drop for the strain relationship between Visenya and Aegon to broke beyond repair. Dividing the family, creating resentment not only between the parents but also, between the children.

When Aegon's last days were near, he went in and out of feverish deviations, the only thing that calmed him was the milk of the poppy that the maesters gave him.

In his death bed his last words were pronounce again and again with a trembling and a voice full of anguish "My sweet y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Until he finally took his last breath the prayers didn't stop.

Aemond I

Your family, specially your mother, wasn't fond of your sudden marriage with Aemond, she had other plans for her younger's. Being Haelena and Aegon the ones married as the Targaryen tradition dictates, she didn't needed more than one. But love seal by fire couldn't be stop.

For the first time Aemond felt joy, the gods heard his and his wife prayers and gift them with a child, the one that were dessesperately hoping for.

The pregnancy went normally without much of a fuss, the two of you were expecting with excitement the day your baby will come into the world. Aemond didn't care if it were to be a girl or a boy, as the second son, he didn't have the burden to produce a male heir.

During the later stages of your pregnancy the tensions between the blacks and the greens grew increasingly dangerous. When the high septon crowned your brother as king everything explode. Due to this, Aemond had to fly away to Storm's end as a negotiator for the greens, leaving his much pregnant wife at home.

An urgent letter from her mother came in the second day he was staying there, telling him to come home as soon as possible, his wife started labor hours ago.

Only one thing retain him for some time before going back to his dear sister, the bastard that took his eye, Lucerys.

When he arrived at the pit in Kings landing the storm had long passed. Without changing his wet clothes he inmediatly went to the birthing chambers, in the rush he didn't notice the commotion of the servants and guards of the castle.

Entering he found the room empty, except from his mother who was in the floor, with her hands covering her face, crying unconsolable. Ameond silently reach her, and with a pang of fear in his chest ask "Mother, were is y/n... Were is she?".

Alicent gasp and cried more, he grew desperate and ask in a more forceful tone this time "Mother, stop crying and answer me, were is y/n?" Finally she answered him "I'm sorry Aemond, I'm so sorry I couldn't stop her... Oh god how horrible!" For a moment everything went silent, the pang in his chest grew and stab him with more force this time.

His mother rose her head and look at him with tears in her puff eyes "Th-the pregnancy went wrong, the baby, the baby wouldn't come out"

She stop and shed more tears "She killed herself Aemond, she command her dragon to kill her..." Stoping for a moment she screamed "OH GOD HOW HORRIBLE!"

Upon hearing this Aemond block himself out of the room, unfocusing his gaze he hug his mother that continue to cry in his shoulders. His face was still as a rock, solid, without a feeling. Only a treacherous tear falling slowly from his good eye, showing the emotion behind the empty gaze.

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 6/?)

Dragonstone

36 ac

Rhaellas pov

We all stand in front of the funeral pyre where Grandsire lays dead. He passed in his sleep with a smile on his face, Father says it's because he's with Rhaenys again. 

It's a lovely thought, and probably true, but I know Aunt Visenya won't like it. She never did like how close Rhaenys and Grandsire were, but she accepted it. 

I try not to move much, I started my moonsblood just the night before and all I have to say is I'm glad I'm wearing black. 

I remember the first time I woke up with my moonsblood. It was a moon after Maegor's wife passed, I woke up in excruciating pain in my lower abdomen. When I lifted my covers to call for a maester I saw blood, so much blood from my core. I don't care how many lessons a girl has about their moonsblood, she will never be ready for that sight.

So here I stand as a Valyrian Septon chants as blood leaks from my core and feeling like a knife is twisting in my belly. 

I was a sobbing mess when I heard Grandsire passed, but none was as broken as Father or Aunt Visenya. For his Father has left him, he has no one to guide him besides courtiers. And Visenya has lost her final sibling, the only other person who understood what she felt when they conquered Westeros. They both lost someone dear, but I only lost a Grandsire who barely spoke to me if he didn't have to.

He always preferred Aegon and Viserys over me and Rhaena. From what Mother says he was trying to convince Father to marry another seeing as Mother had two pregnancies and failed to give him a son. Thank the gods Father ignored him. 

I breathe in the cold salty air that always has a darker edge that you can only find here. I've always loved the smell here, Mother and Aegon prefer the scent Driftmark brings with it's spices and overwhelming saltiness that seems to stick to your skin. 

Rhaena grips my arm as Vhagar moves forward to light the pyre. She was hit the hardest out of me and my siblings. She always wanted his attention, wanted to feel his love that he always gave Aegon and Visery. But no matter how hard she tried, he probably wouldn't be able to tell us apart. 

“Just a bit longer Rhaena, then you never have to feel his disappointment again.” I whisper to her as she glares at the pyre. 

With one look at her I saw the rage and fire in her violet eyes. I knew her sobs weren't because she lost Grandsire, it was because she would never be able to show him, he was wrong about our worth. To prove we are more than just broad mares that only need to be wed off. 

“We're more than he ever thought of us, we are the riders of Dreamfyre and Meraxes. We don't need him to be breathing to prove him wrong. Because there are more like him, and we'll show them, we'll show them why they bent their knees to Grandsire. Not because of him, but because of his sisters.” I swear and Rhaena nods as she stands straighter watching as Vhagar lights the late King's pyre turning him into worthless ash in the wind.

I watch as courtiers who never even spoke to my Grandsire sob and talk about how wonderful he was. I have to fight a scoff each time someone stops me saying how sorry they are and how he was a good man. 

You would think he didn't burn their homes to the ground if they didn't bend the knee. I think as I roll my eyes as a drunk lord I know never even saw my Grandsire talk about how amazing he was.

I finally find the person I was dying to speak to since the news had reached my ears. I waste no time making my way over to the balcony he is leaning against.

I already know what he is looking at before I even reach him. “He is now riderless, a dragon without a rider is a cruel joke.” I say as I watch Balerion sleep where we had just burned his rider. 

Maegor shakes his head with a sigh. “No, it is too soon.” 

This peaks my interest as I turn to look up at him. His jaw is set in a tense line, his eyes are set on the dragon and with one glance I can see the embers of an inferno burning within them. I know he may say it it is too soon, but I also know he doesn't care anymore. 

“And who made the rules on when you can claim a dragon? What is it he used to say, ‘you claim or you die? And a Targaryen without a dragon isn't a Targaryen at all’?” I say knowing the quote will hit close to home for him, for it always did for me until I claimed my Meraxes.

He only hums as he looks down at me. I fight the blush that threatens to rise to cheeks as he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Tell me, what does it feel like when you claim a dragon?” 

I think about his question as he turns back to stare at the Black Dread. “It feels like your soul is complete. It feels like home, like the world could burn but as long as you have that beast you could make it.” 

He hums and looks down at me again before turning back to the dragon we both know he will claim in the coming days, if not tonight.

I take this as a sign that the conversation has ended, but I have one final thing to say. “I don’t know if he loved you, I hope he did but Grandsire never was good at showing you his affection. But I want to know, you don’t need him, you have proven yourself beyond what anyone could imagine already. And you much farther to go, you don’t need him, never did, and neither did I.” 

And with that I turn on my heals leaving him to his brooding and thoughts. If only we knew of the darkness on the horizons, maybe my brothers would still be here, maybe it would be Rhaena as Queen instead of me. But of course these are just maybes, and there is nothing we could have done. For how are you to defend yourself from a threat you didn’t know was coming?

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl @sachaa-ff @athzhowakar @thelastemzy @themoonlitquill

[targaryen-dynasty]

BETWEEN THE LINES.

Maegor Targaryen x female Harroway!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, doggy sex, power imbalance, size kink, degrading, idk.

WORDS: 2.4 K

NOTES: This has been rotting in my docs for so long, I had to finish and post it. It's missing big tiddy daddy hours, and I want you all to suffer with me. Thank you @thought--bubble for proofreading this! <3

The Red Keep is much more homely and friendly than your Houses’ seat, Harrenhal, that much is true. Yet you have never longed more to be back at that gloomy castle than you’ve done since your sister has taken you to court with her. 

Not that you’ll ever have the choice to stay or to leave. Not unless your sister, or rather the queen, says so. 

For one summer you’ve lived in the keep by now, summoned the moment your sister came back from Pentos to aid her husband after the demise of King Aenys Targaryen. The talks of Maegor taking Tyanna of the Tower as his third wife had arisen not long after, and did little to quell your jealousy. 

He's seen you before. You were at your sister’s side during their short courtship, their wedding, and had visited them regularly until she chose to accompany Maegor in his exile in Pentos. 

And yet he’s never paid any attention to you, has never even considered taking you to wife instead – rather opting to go for your dull sister and a sorceress from Pentos. 

Sitting on the chaise lounge in your chambers, flames crackling in the fireplace, you read over a book you’ve procured from the library on your stroll through the castle. It very much borders the Hour of the Owl, and you’ve yet to take the bath the maids have prepared for you quite some time ago. 

A knock on the door pulls you out of your reverie, and you’re quick to rise to your feet, covering the loose nightdress that clings to your curves with a plain robe. Caught off guard, you waste no thought on the fact that you don’t expect any visitors this late. 

“Yes?” you ask loudly. 

A gruff voice comes from behind the door, and, despite the impatience laced within, you know very well who it belongs to. “Open the door. I would like to have a word with you.”

His words make you frown, but you follow his orders, unlocking the door and opening it for him. Immediately craning your neck to meet his stern gaze, the eye contact ignites a fire within you. “Your Grace, I– what is the matter?” 

He shoulders his way past you into your chambers, briefly taking in your attire and loose hair. A small smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Reading, at this hour?” he asks, nodding towards the book still clutched in your hand. 

Warmth spreads to your cheeks at his question, intensified by his low and dangerous tone. You can feel his gaze despite your back still facing him, like a weight that has settled on your shoulders. “I could not sleep,” you answer simply, closing the door and turning around. “So I thought I’d read for a bit before I bathe and retire. But is that truly the matter you wish to talk to me about, Your Grace?”

He prowls closer to you, his steps slow and deliberate; a hunter closing in on its prey. “No, that’s not why I came here,” he says, his gaze never leaving yours. As he comes to a stop in front of you, his bulky frame towers over yours. Reaching a hand out, he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear – a gesture that makes you shiver. “It’s your behavior towards your sister… I shall not tolerate it any longer.”

A frisson of heat races down your spine at the touch, and you do not dare pull away from him. She must have obviously talked to him about you slowly removing yourself out of her life, getting out of her way and clearly avoiding her at times. “I… I do not know what you mean, Your Grace,” you stutter. “Alys… my sister… I have no quarrel with her.” Your eyes flicker to the ground, just briefly, but long enough for him to know that you’re not saying the truth. 

Taking another step closer, Maegor captures you between his body and the door, a sneer evident on his features. “Don’t insult my intelligence,” he growls. “I know of your jealousy. Your envy. You long for what she has, to be a queen at the side of a man of my power and strength, but that day shall never come.”

Your heart lurches at his words, hitting you like arrows, and striking a wound that you have refused to acknowledge. Your breath escapes in a sharp gasp. “That is not…” you deny weakly, but even to your own ears your voice lacks conviction. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but his mere proximity makes you feel hot all over. “You… You are misunderstanding my feelings, Your Grace.”

“Am I?” he asks, his voice a mocking drawl. He pinches your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head back up and forcing you to look at him. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t want what your sister has. Admit it.”

Gooseflesh ripples over your skin as his warm breath fans over it, your eyes fluttering. “I…” you begin, but your voice fails you as something dark and sinful stirs deep within you, dampening the linen of your smallclothes. You try to look away, but can’t. Instead, you find yourself reciprocating his intense stare, the words spilling out before you can stop them: “I loathe her.”

A cold triumph fills his features as you speak, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear. He lets out a low rumble of laughter, a mocking sound without any trace of humor that sends a shiver through your body. 

His other hand grips your hip, squeezing tightly. “Good,” he hums, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your face. “There is no need to hide your true feelings from me, sweetling. I see right through you. Your hate, your desire for power… your desire for me.”

Gasping softly at his words, your heart races in your chest. You’re trapped between his sturdy frame and the door, and his nearness causes heat to pool in your stomach. “That is… not true,” you deny weakly, although your voice lacks conviction. You can feel the heat emanating from him, the strength of his hands on your body – and yet, you do not pull away. “I… I don’t…”

The conflict that wars in your eyes is obvious, and he all but devours the fight your body puts up against the desire that’s slowly burning through your body. “You don’t?” he challenges, and your breath hitches in your throat the moment his lips find your exposed throat. The tip of his nose brushes your jaw as he pulls back, lips all but a whisper apart. “Lie to me again. The sight of these beautiful lips of yours speaking falsehoods is almost as arousing as the truth.”

His words send a jolt of heat to your core, your body and skin growing hot while your pulse quickens. Fighting stubbornly against the urge to surrender to his touch, you take a shaky breath. “You… You’re wrong,” you whisper, your voice choked by your own traitorous arousal. 

“Then prove me wrong,” he laughs, low and dark, “push me away. Fight me.” Shame and excitement alike flood your veins at his words. Your hands come up to grip the front of his loose tunic as if you mean to push him away, but instead you pull him tightly against you. 

With a swift flick of his wrist, Maegor’s nimble fingers undo the tie in the front of your robe. 

You bite your lip, staring up at him with wide eyes. The robe comes loose against your body and falls partially open, exposing the skin of your chest and shoulders. Your body is responding to him in ways it shouldn’t, and you’re helpless to stop it. 

“I…” you pant, voice ragged, “I can’t…”

With his fingers tracing patterns on your body like a burning brand, you can’t bring yourself to push him away, and instead charge at him, wrapping your arms around his thick neck and connecting your lips in a passionate embrace.

Maegor grunts at the impact, but returns the kiss with equal fervor. His grip on you tightens even more, using it to push you back against the door. Breaking the kiss, he peels your arms off of him, which allows your robe to slide off your shoulders and fall to the ground, and flips you around, pressing your chest flush against the wood. 

Although you try to catch a glimpse of him from over your shoulder, you miss the dark, possessive look that’s etched onto his features, far too distracted by him easily ripping apart your nightdress from the collar to the hem. 

You can all but feel his dark blown eyes roam over your exposed skin, practically devouring the sight of you standing completely bare and pliant right in front of him. His fingers trail over your curves, gripping a fistful of your arse. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” he mutters, voice guttural and possessive. He leans in to bury his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. 

The sensations have you arch your back against his sturdy frame while soft gasps and moans spill past your lips. You feel him shuffle slightly behind you, yet your mind is far too occupied by the weight of his body against yours, the heat from his lips on your neck, and the harshness of his one hand on your hip to notice what he’s doing. 

But then you feel something dragging through your soaked and swollen folds, and while you’re certain it’s two of his fingers, you’re quickly proved wrong as something even thicker breeches your tight cunt. The groan he releases is strained but loud, fanning right over your damp skin, and drowns out the moan that slips past your lips.

It’s not the first time you lay with a man, yet the last encounter took place quite some time ago, hence your need to adjust to the size of his cock. But Maegor is not in a generous mood this night, and hardly allows your body to accommodate him before he sets up a reckless pace that has you whining and whimpering. 

Maegor towers over your small frame, pushing you up against the door with every snap of his hips. One of his paw-like hands is still holding onto your hip, while the other has disappeared into your hair, tugging on it and forcing your head back against his shoulder to make sure you keep your back arched for him. 

He continues to lavish attention on your body with his lips and tongue, just barely pulling away to take a breath. “You shall never be queen like your dear sister is,” he groans in between some kisses, his voice ragged. Under different circumstances, his words would have made your stomach drop – but not when he’s fucking you so good, and speaking again after a short breather. “But she could never give me what you do. She could never make me feel the way you make me feel. You drive me mad with desire.”

You tremble under his frame, and pressure builds within you as he brings his hand between your legs. It seems as though he’s suddenly taken on an urgency he hasn’t displayed before, adamant to finish it quickly so that his disappearance does not attract any attention. 

“The… Then take what you want… Your Grace,” you stutter, words hiccuped by his harsh thrusts. He’s sent you into a frenzy by now. “Take me.”

The coil in your stomach is ready to snap at any given moment with how precisely his deft fingers rub your pearl, and your peak washes over you even before you can tell him. Your lips fall apart in a breathy whimper while you relish in the overwhelming pleasure of your peak coursing through your veins as Maegor chases his own.

Regardless of how badly you want to reach behind you to touch whatever part of him is within your reach, your hands have to be propped against the door to support your small frame, keeping you upright. 

His thrusts already have become more and more erratic at this point, and the tight clenching of your walls around his cock is the last bit that eventually triggers his own release. 

Shuddered breaths and strained groans topple over his parted lips, mixing with your whimpers and moans. His twitching cock spills his seed deep inside of your cunt, and you squeeze him ever so tightly in response, milking him for every drop. 

He doesn’t give himself much time to revel in the pure bliss before he lifts his head off of your shoulder and untangles himself from you. His breathing is ragged and his gaze still darkened with desire as he gazes down at your disheveled form, taking in the marks he’s left. He silently buckles his belt and adjusts his clothing, appearing as though nothing has happened while your mind and body are basically in shambles. 

There’s little time for you to come back to your senses after he’s pulled out, and even less time until he’s inconsiderately nudging you away from the door, taking the handle into one hand. 

“And sweetling,” he says, his brusque demeanor coming right back with a dangerous tone to his voice, “I will not tolerate any further interference from you in my affairs, and I will not tolerate any envy towards your sister. You ought best to remember your place. You are nothing but a toy for me, and I will not hesitate to put you in your place if you get in my way.”

The sharpness in his tone makes you shiver. You watch him silently, body still trembling with the aftershocks of your encounter. His words ring in your ears, and you swallow hard, the reality of your situation only now sinking in. 

As he turns away and opens the door, he throws one final look at you from over his shoulder. 

“Yes… Your Grace,” you mumble with a nod of your head, and only then does he take his leave, albeit it does not last for too long, because as the following day passes and the Hour of the Owl strikes, it’s him who’s knocking on your door again, coming to take what he’s successfully claimed.  

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @k4marina @foxyanon @nats-whore

@palmer-hjp @sinarainbows @luvdella

General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @croatianprincess @snowystark @moonlightfoxx

@melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fan-goddess @at-a-rax-ia @tsujifreya

@bbgmonsay @doublesparrows @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101

@multyfangirl @dixie-elocin @zaldritzosrose @userhotd @delulumhaggy @urfavnoirette

@iloveallmyboys @beautbuck @rose-brulante @aerangi @aoi-targaryen

[lumillsie]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a song of ice & fire masterlist. ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ arianne martell, young griff "aegon", aegon ' the conqueror' targaryen, rhaenys 'the conqueror' targaryen, visenya 'the conqueror' targaryen, maegor targaryen, rhaena targaryen, aemon targaryen, baelon targaryen, aegon 'the younger' targaryen, viserys ii targaryen, aemon 'the dragonknight' targaryen, daemon blackfyre, shiera seastar, daemon blackfyre

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ arianne martell. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ young griff. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ aegon the conqueror targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rhaenys targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ visenya targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ maegor targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rhaena targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ aemon targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ baelon targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ aegon the younger targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ viserys ii targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ aemon the dragonknight. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ daemon blackfyre. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ shiera seastar. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ daemon blackfyre. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

[fairysluna]

“Don't you wanna feel good, baby?”

“Tell me how it feels. It doesn't hurt does it ?”

With big daddy plssssss 🥹

a/n: after MONTHS i finally got to fulfill this request (and work on others). I wrote this in an hour or so, so I'm sorry if it's not perfect but i had to take advantage of the inspo boost i had. Hope you like this, babyy.🤍

TW: king!maegor x maid!reader, smut (masturbation, innocence kink, pussy slapping, orgasm denial), power imbalance dynamic.

Maegor has always looked at you with lustful eyes. He would shamelessly stare at your cleavage whenever you bend over to serve him wine or to prepare him a bath. It was no surprise for you that he soon found himself being infatuated by your body, and the way your innocent eyes seemed to obliviously look at his naked form each time you would bathe him.

What was a surprise was the fact that he invited you to join him in, sitting you between his thick thighs after he observed patiently how you slowly and shyly removed your attires. There was a slight heat on your cheeks; this was so wrong in so many ways but you couldn't help but to feel drawn to his warm skin as he wrapped his muscly arms around your body. It was a quite uncomfortable position, the bathtub was perhaps too big to fit your bodies inside; yet, he did not seem to care, for he wasted no time in burying his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling that sweet scent that made him cock twitch against your lower back.

You would be a liar if you dared to say that it did not arouse you; the King was blessed with a charm that most men desired, he was desired by all the women in the realm and yet, he chose you - a simple maid that had never seen the world beyond those castle's walls. His calloused fingers would travel all around your body, leaving a trace of chills and heat behind as he made sure to touch every inch of you. Suddenly, you felt some kind of wetness between your legs, and you were certain that it was not the extremely hot water that was covering your body.

"Have you ever been touched?" Maegor asked, his low voice causing shivers down your spine as his hands rested right under the swell of your breasts; as if he was waiting for a sign to go further.

"No, my king…" You answered, almost in a murmur. Maegor smirked.

"Not even by yourself?"

You felt the heat on your cheeks growing as you replied again. "No."

A soft hum left his lips; a pleasant gesture took over his face as his cock only grew harder with the thought of being the one who steals your innocence. His fingers slowly moved upwards, cupping your breasts and squeezing them gently and softly - he was trying to see what your reaction would be, and as he noticed how your delicious lips parted slightly, he dared to capture your sensitive nipples between his thick fingers. A gasp fell from your mouth as he pinch them; it wasn't rough nor painful, it felt rather good as he played with them and you just squirmed over his body.

"So sensitive," he whispered for himself. The warmth of his breath hitting your nape was enough to make you moan softly, all while he started to add more pressure to his touch. You arched your back.

When his hands left your nipples, you felt his touch in your inner thighs. He used his strength to spread your legs, positioning each one at each border of the bath. You sighed, seeing your exposed flesh through the warm water. As you noticed how his touch came closer and closer to your core, your heart beated with anticipation and some nervousness. That is why your first reaction was to cover that intimate part of yourself with your own hand.

Maegor grunted in disapproval.

"Come on, darling, don't you want to feel good?" His husky whisper made you sigh, almost as if he was casting a spell on you. "Be a good girl, and let me touch that sweet little pussy of yours."

He removed your hand from your center, using a bit of strength and roughness to do it. Before you could cover yourself again, he cupped your core with his big hand and a soft moan left your lips. He immediately felt your slick against his fingertips, which were right outside your tight entrance. You gasped when he teased your needy hole, only pushing the very tip of his index finger.

Your hand went to his wrist, and he immediately stopped. Rolling his eyes after how you reacted, for it was not what he had expected. However, his fingers traveled up against your slit, and his skilled fingers found your swollen pearl - which was throbbing at that point, swollen with the carnal desire of being touched by him.

He started to rub it slowly and in circling motions, your eyes closed as an extremely erotic sound escaped from your swollen lips. Maegor chuckled against your ear, almost in a mocking way, as if he was trying to say 'I told you so'.

“Tell me how it feels. It doesn't hurt, does it?” He whispered, putting some more pressure on your sensitive clit.

You mewled, moving your hips against his movements as he fastened his pace just a little. His free hand reached for your nipple, and your eyes rolled back. You were only able to moan, feeling this overwhelming heat rushing all over your body, forming a knot in your gut that begged to be released.

As you did not reply, Maegor gave a sharp slap to your clit. It was painful, yet incredibly pleasing. You cried out as your hips lifted, causing the water to splash all over the floor.

"I made you a question," he grunted, pinching your nipple and making you whine.

All gentleness was left aside as his hand rubbed faster, rougher. Your legs started to shake as you were struggling to find the words.

"G-gods… it feels so- so good…" You managed to say. His hand squeezing your breast as his skillful fingers were moving impossibly fast against your folds.

You turned into a whiny mess, Maegor hardness was rubbing against your back as you moved desperately. It was an odd feeling, it felt too overwhelming but at the same time you just couldn't get enough of it. Your body was burning with desire, begging and pleading for something you did not know.

Maegor was enjoying to see your desperation, a smug grin was drawn on his face as he felt you close to reach that glorious orgasm that you so achingly need.

But just when you were about to reach your release, he stopped.

A cry was heard, your eyes clouded with tears that reflected your frustration as Maegor laughed.

He laughed at you.

"Poor thing," he murmured, "You truly believed I would let you cum first?"

"P-please…" You whined, "It hurts."

"If you want it, you will have to earn it."

He stood up. Drops of water cascading down his muscular chest as he straightened up. His imposing figure brought a new heat inside your belly as you looked up at him only to find his hard cock a few inches away from your face.

"Get on your knees," he commanded, "If you manage to please me, then I will consider returning the favor."

The ache between your legs left you with no other choice but to obey.

[bucknastysbabe]

Can you make Maegor smut i can barely find any

I shall try my hand, I apologize for the 90 year wait. This was very fun and I hope you don’t mind the dark themes :) This goes out to you, dear anon, and Big Daddy fan #1 @fairysluna

And you sluts too: @borikenlove @aemondsversion @ilikeitbetterangsty @lovelykhaleesiii @godrakin @xfancyuu

Rating: EXPLICIT READ WARNINGS

Tags: TW: non-con, blood, knives, restraints, rituals and implied soul magic, background sacrifice, forced impregnation, dissociation, Maegor needs an heir still, black bride!reader, voyuerism, size kink, sex pollen/drugging, he’s a bit fond of her for now, Targs using old Valyrian magic, pnv!sex, creampie

Belly of the Beast

Huge armored Kingsguard drug you beneath the bowels of Maegor’s labyrinthian complex, your feet dragging along the ground. You’d ceased fighting two layers ago. Tyanna of the tower glared down at you, raven hair almost shining in the gloomy light. She was clad in a deep purple satin dress, pale face pinched. The rumored sorceress hummed, “You’ll do fine. We need an heir. Stop fighting it, I see it in those bovine eyes of yours.”

You whimpered in pain, feet and shins ragged from the rough treatment. Maegor was no where to be seen. You had only see him on your wedding night, the beast splitting you open and depositing his seed before leaving. When it appeared your womb had not quickened, the guards had seized you in the night. Which led to now. Something sinister curling in the air, the dark glow of the lanterns casting the halls in a murky bloody tint.

Tyanna took a left, disappearing. The guards dragged you onwards, pulling you into a rounded room. Your heart beat wildly with terror. What was this place? It reminded you of the paintings of old Valyria. Oily black stone fused by horrid magicks into bestial creatures. Tall columns twirled with blood wyrms, casting their evil gaze upon you. You cried out in fear, but your mouth was covered with thick bound rope, irritating and dry.

In the middle of the room lay an elongated stone plinth, blood smeared in unreadable lettering. Maegor waited like a hungry lion, huge muscles rippling with every movement. You could see his purple eyes dragging along your bound frame, obscene cock twitching at the site. He boomed, “Put her on the table.”

You stopped struggling again in a state of shock. You weren’t sure if they were going to kill you. Ser Darklyn and Bracken hauled you upright, placing your body on the bloody slab. Maegor shooed them off, locking each of your limbs in some sort of mechanism. He thumbed one of your teats, growling, “Such a fertile body, we’ll get a heir my littlest queen.” You gazed up at the gnarled ceiling, depicting unspeakable things and creatures. You whimpered softly as Maegor undid your gag, rumbling, “There, now they can hear your delightful crying.”

There was a balcony and there stood the dowager Queen Visenya and Tyanna. Visenya’s face was hardened, her hands covered in more blood. She called down, “Do not be afraid girl, this is a new beginning. You will give Maegor the dragon we so desperately need. Think of it as a gift.”

You nodded yes but your mind howled and tore itself apart at the seams. This was not a gift. This was an abomination. You thought of home, the seaside and the barking seals. Not this perverted facsimile of a sept. Visenya barked, “Give her the draught, my king.”

“With pleasure”, he smirked. The beast of a man stalked back to your side, a hand twice the size of your head caressing back your sweaty hair. He murmured, “Open up, you might be my true queen.” You did as so, opening your lips and drinking the thick liquid. It tasted horrid, you fought back a retch before Maegor’s hard lips forced it’s way on top. He smothered you, another huge hand squeezing the soft flesh of your hips.

There was no more you could do as he climbed on top, muscled trunks of thighs splitting yours open, tongue probing your mouth. He grabbed at your hair, biting and sucking roughly down your neck. He murmured, “Close now.” Visenya began to chant in an abnormal sounding tongue of Valyrian. Your skin felt hot to the touch, the glyphs on the walls seeming to glow.

A wave of intense arousal flowed up from your toes to head, making you whine in anguish. The sensation so intense you wrapped your legs around the king’s scarred waist and thrust your profusely leaking cunt up. Locked under the arousal your ego stood trapped, screaming for help. Instead you moaned, “Breed me my king, please, it hurts!” Maegor’s hard set eyes rolled some, his beard scratching your bloodied neck.

He chuckled darkly, “I’ll give it to you little bride of mine, fill that tiny cunt of yours, not waste a gods damned drop.” Pale calloused hands wrapped around your waist, almost encircling you. You bucked underneath him, slick pussy dragging ever so again Maegor’s huge cock. From above, Tyanna and Visenya’s stark faces disappeared as you refocused on him.

Your king, your stud, the one to fill your womb up so you can give him baby after baby. Simply a broodmare for the taking. You arched your full tits against his impossibly built chest, whining at the drag across his body hair. Maegor nuzzled at your collarbones, humming, “It’s so…delightful to watch you squirm. I could break your pretty bones into dust y’know?”

Tears burned at your eyes, the ache between your legs becoming a heady burning. In a warble you begged, “Please, do anything my king, need it, wan’ your cock, pleasepleaseplease!” Openly sobbing now, the brutish king moaned in delight, cock swelling further from your pretty tears and swollen lips. He spanned a hand down your writhing body to land on the base of his cock. Maegor grabbed the Valyrian steel knife and nicked the thin skin of his cock, grunting in annoyance as it began to drip blood.

He tossed the knife callously aside and grabbed your wide hips, shoving his cock in to the hilt. The pair of you cried out, the loud howl echoing in the dim chamber. Maegor growled, “Fucking- fuck! Tight little bride you are, felt ya’ split. Bleeding pretty on my cock.” You weren’t even registering the loss of your maidenhead, hyperfocused on the wonderful feeling of your untouched walls accommodating and stretching for Maegor’s girth. He paused in awe, patting your lower stomach.

Maegor rasped, “Look at this, can see my cock through you. Fucking hell.”

He fucked like the bull they called the king, powerful thrusts sliding you through the tacky blood. Maegor grunted and cursed, muscles flexing and glistening. He panted, “It’ll take, it’ll take, good little girl.” You begged softly, “My arms, my King, please!” In a flurry of movement he unchained you, pulling your smaller frame onto those sinful thighs of his. You rolled onto him like a brothel whore, bouncing and humping, growling and scratching.

He pulled you into a kiss, snarling, “They always said the untouched ones were the hungriest for it,” his hand came down on your ass with a loud crack! Mewling onto his hard lips you embraced the sweet pain, body still on fire with need, need, need. Maegor cursed again and rumbled, unhooking your feet and manhandling you face down on the slab, jerking your ass up into the air.

Your fingers scrabbled as Maegor quickly reentered your pussy, groaning in pleasure. “See, please him, be the bearer of that strong seed,” said your addled mind. The claps of Maegor’s hips echoed against your softer ass, him swiping a hand across with a smarmy look. He cruelly cooed, “Yeah? You like your king stuffing your sweet cunt full of seed? Mmm, when you’re all rounded out I’ll fuck another into you right after. You’re mine.”

“Yours, yours,” you whimpered deliriously.

He pulled you tighter and drug his thick cockhead across a spot you didn’t know existed, eliciting a guttural moan. One big hand locked around your slim throat, the other sneaking to that throbbing bud between your legs. You squealed and squirmed, the nerve endings sparking like wild fire across your used frame.

“No, you take it,” he snarled.

And take it you did, crying and whimpering as your belly tightened and tightened, whole body erupting in goosebumps. Your legs gave out but Maegor kept you aloft moving his huge arm from neck to your tits. In a trembly caterwaul of his name you clamped down on his thick cock and gushed on him and the bloody mess below. Maegor gasped and stuttered, sharp canines locking into your shoulder. His strokes dug deep in shallow, sloppy thrusts.

He practically roared when the load of spend painted your overspent cunt. Load after load while he cooed praise and panted in your ear. The fervor that once gripped you had abated, leaving you a boneless mess, emotions comparable to a husk. Maegor felt around for something then bent you over, shoving in a plug of sorts as soon as his cock exited. He patted your ass and rumbled, “I’m feeling blessed by the Gods today. You shall come wash up with me in my chambers, littlest bride.”

Tyanna was gone.

Visenya called down once more, “Splendid. Let’s hope the seed takes, girl.”

Maegor proudly carried you through the underbelly and up to his quarters in the red keep, showing your mottled, blood soaked body off. You went to somewhere quieter in your mind. A seaside cliff. Salty air. Seals barking. Home.

[cl0ud-ninex]

I was just thinking it would be so ironic if out of Maegor's first three wives, Ceryse (the wife he humiliated and abandoned because she was infertile) was the only one who actually gave a damn about him.

Even though i love Maegor, Alys, and Tyanna together, I feel like this idea could work depending on the circumstances. Like, yeah he chose Alys and Tyanna and discarded Ceryse, but they both were just using him and only cared about the power he came with. Meanwhile, Ceryse actually cared about him as a person.

Idk I swing either way when it comes to this.