#aemond targaryen x lannister reader

[itsmeimtheproblemitsme]

A Rain of Fire Chap.1 Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Lannister reader

Prologue

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Warnings- Violence, smut, angst, angst, and more angst! 18+

Sorry this is so late I had a nursing exam that took up all my time and I failed half of it, going to try again in the next few months though!

Wordcount- 2k+

A laugh escapes your throat at the retelling of one of those very tales when a throat clears behind you. Your hand quickly covers your mouth as you turn on your heel, eyes meeting with none other than Prince Aemond Targaryen, a face you hadn’t seen in over ten years. There’s a patch covering his left eye now, the scar slightly visible. His lips were upturned in a half-hearted smile, a goblet in his right hand.

You feel your blood run cold when your eyes meet, offering a small curtsey as a greeting.

"Lady Lannister," he greets you, grabbing your hand to press a soft kiss to it.

You give him a small smile, nerves alight, remembering the last time you had seen him as asks for the next dance.

---

You hum quietly as your needled threads through your embroidery hoop, a hand tapping your shoulder interrupting you for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

Letting out a sigh you set the hoop to the side, "My Prince whatever is it that you could need this time?" you say turning to face him.

Aemond smiles shyly at you, his cheeks a pink tint as he grasps your hand forcing you to stand.

"I want to show you something," he says leading you back into the palace, "if it's alright with you that is?" he asks stopping and awaiting your answer.

You look at him with apprehension, the last time Aemond had something to show you, you had nearly been killed by a dragon. However, you trusted him, so you went along with him. Only to realize your trust had been misplaced the second you stepped into the dragon pit.

---

"Aemond! What are we doing in the dragon pit! The last time you brought me here I nearly died," you snapped following him down the sandy path to where the dragons lay.

He smiled as he continued leading you, "You won't believe it until you see it! And besides, I won't let anything hurt you," you frowned, he sounded so sure of himself, but you had always believed dragons had a mind of their own.

You quickly pushed away your thoughts, seeing as though they had only made you more anxious when you noticed two figures a head of you. Upon closer inspection, you believed the two girls to be Baela and Rhaena Velaryon, both of whom seemed to be extremely upset with Aemond.

You stumbled back as Baela punched Aemond in the face, nearly hitting you as well.

Aemond quickly fought back hitting the girl so hard she fell backward. You gasped as Aemond stood over Jacaerys with a stone in his hand as if to bludgeon the boy with it when Lucerys slashed his eye with a knife.

You gasp as blood pours from the wound hands shaking as you stumble back, starting into a run.

___

Your Father's hand tightened on your shoulder as the Queen Alicent argued with Princess Rhaenyra. The Queen argued that Lucerys should also lose an eye for having done so to Aemond, but the Princess was adamant that it was too much of a punishment, Aemond seemed to agree in that aspect, "I May Have Lost An Eye, But I Gained A Dragon," he had said as the Maester's tended to his eye.

You on the other hand were petrified, you had never been surrounded by so many important people in one room before, so close to them. Your Father, however, remained unfazed as you stuttered through your retelling of the events.

"Lady Lannister, what do you recall from the," he paused to cough, "incident?"

You swallowed thickly, all the eyes in the room now on you, bowing slightly, you spoke.

The King nodded thoughtfully when the Queen suddenly grasped a knife and wielded it towards Rhaenyra, cutting her arm, the blood dripping from her arm and pooling on the ground.

"Stop this madness at once!" the King ordered, the Queen glancing towards him as he began to lecture his family.

You glanced toward Aemond, a bandage now covering half his face, his eyes empty, staring into the flames of the hearth. Your eyes fell to the floor as your the King excused your Father.

He quickly dragged you down the hallway his group tightening as you walked. You could feel the anger radiating off of him as you reached the door to your room, dread filling you.

He released your shoulder, a strike landing on your cheek your head thrown to the side, tears springing from your eyes, as he shook you by your shoulders.

"How many times have I told you?!? How many times do I need to explain to you the importance of etiquette and manners in court?!? Must I beat it into your skull child?!? You have made a mockery of myself in front of the court, no! The King himself," he pauses, his hands shaking with rage, surely thinking of a punishment for your involvement in the incident.

"You will return to Casterly Rock first thing on the morrow. And you will be confined to your chambers for three months' time."

You feel your blood run cold, "But, Father-" you attempt to protest, but he sends you a bone-chilling glare and makes his way down the hall leaving you with your thoughts.

You slowly open the door to your chambers, sitting down on the edge of the bed, the curtains fluttering in the breeze.

___

Your eyes fling open when you hear the turning of your door knob, you grab your sewing needle and hold it out to defend yourself, ready to strike when the door creaks open.

Revealing... Aemond?

You sigh in relief dropping it back onto the bedside table regarding him. His bandage has a slight red tinge to it, and he's wearing a black cloak the hood drawn over his head. "My Prince?" you question, crossing your arms, "what exactly are you doing here so late?"

He closes the door behind him as he pulls back the hood of his cloak and sighs.

"I-I, wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. I didn't mean to get you involved in such a matter. I'm so sorry."

He says, but his eyes must catch the mark on your face as his hand cups it.

"Who did this to you?" He questions as you flinch, the wound still fresh with pain.

Shaking your head you turn and close the windows, drawing the curtains, "It does not matter my Prince, I will be fine," you attempt to assure him, but he ignores you.

His fist clenches in anger as he grasps your hand, "It was your Father, wasn't it? Because of what happened in the dragon pit?"

You look away, eyes brimming with tears as he lets go of your hand, fumbling in his pockets for something.

Your eyebrows raise in suspicion as he pulls out a small wooden box, carefully opening it as if it's made of glass. You frown when you see a silver necklace, a pendant of a symbol you do not recognize dangling from its center.

"I meant to give you this earlier," he whispers pulling your hair out of the way to clasp it onto your neck.

You frown unsure, "Aemond, I can't accept this. It's too much. Where did you even get it?"

He gives you a small smile, "It doesn't matter, I wanted to give it to you, because, well, because I think it suits you, and I like you, a lot," he says a blush creeping over his cheeks.

Your frown deepens as you grasp his hands, "Aemond, I'm leaving for Casterly Rock on the morrow," you whisper sadly as he frowns.

He's lost in his thoughts for a moment before tightening his grip on your hands, "Well, is there any way you can stay? I can ask your Father? Or my Mother? She would let you stay, I know she would!" He says as you sit back on the bed.

You sigh morosely as he goes on about you staying in King's Landing, maybe becoming a lady in waiting for the Queen when you interrupt him.

"I apologize, my Prince, however, my Father's mind has been made up. It will not change, not even if you ask your Mother. If he does not wish for me to remain in court, then I shall return to Casterly Rock. Even though it is against my own wishes."

He frowns, releases your hands, and runs from your room, leaving the door hanging open.

___

Your mind is returned to the present when you feel a hand on your shoulder, you look up, eyes meeting a concerned Aemond. You shake your head place your goblet on to a nearby table and rub your temples.

"Are you alright my Lady?" he questions, his hand now gently rubbing circles on your shoulder his concern growing.

You frown as a dizzying feeling overcomes you.

"No, I think it must be the wine," you pause feeling bile rushing up your throat, you swallow it back, "I think I'll return to my chambers for the night."

You begin to walk to the hall but you feel a hand on your waist stop you, you glance back to see Aemond, "Please, allow me to escort you to your chambers," he says voice full of concern.

You reluctantly agree and allow yourself to lean into him as you walk down the corridors to your room

___

Reaching your room you frown as you hear footsteps approaching from behind you. You feel Aemond's grip tighten on your waist as he quickly pulls you into your room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

You frown in confusion as he holds a finger to his lips and you bite back your question upon hearing the voice of your Father.

His voice is venomous as he pounds on your door, your heart dropping as the door knob twists and turns but the door refuses to open.

Aemond grits his teeth as the knocking continue, almost opening the door when Tyland's voice interrupts, pulling your Father away. Their footsteps led down the hallway.

You breathe a sigh of relief, partially collapsing onto the bed.

"Thank you for that, my Prince, I-," you're cut off as you feel Aemond's lips on yours.

"It's no problem my Lady, in truth I wanted a moment with you, alone," he says as his lips meet yours once more.

You sigh into the kiss as his hands begin unlacing your dress, tossing your bodice to the side, your hands running through his hair, a moan leaving your mouth as he trails down your throat leaving kisses and bites in his wake, sure to leave marks in the morning.

A gasp leaves your mouth as your back hits the bed, and your eyes shut when you feel his hand on your inner thigh, his mouth trailing down your neck to your breasts. You moan as his mouth latches onto your breast, his other hand pinching and twisting your now hardened nipple, forcing a high pitch moan out of your lips. You feel something tightening in your stomach as Aemond’s hand snakes down your thigh, slowly inserting a finger into your entrance as your lips meet in a kiss full of hunger and lust. You moan his name as he adds two more fingers, his pace quickening, the coil tightening to the point you see stars when your eyes close. Your nails rake into his back as he moves faster, his other hand now preoccupied with circling your clit. You can feel your high coming closer when he suddenly stops, pulling back abruptly leaving you upset lips turning up in complaint before you feel his head at the entrance of your cunt. 

You moan at the feeling of him slowly inching into your warmth, stars blinding you again as he moves faster. The tight coil finally snaps as you reach your high, Aemond’s hips stuttering against your own as he too reaches his high, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt.

He pulls away and lays down beside you, arm draped across your waist as he drapes the covers over the both of you. His lips land on your forehead as you bury your face into his chest, attempting to keep thoughts of what would become of you the next day, after well, that. 

You hear him whisper something that escapes your ears as you succumb to sleep, eyes fluttering shut. 

----

Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed!

If you would like to be added to the tag list for this fic, please leave a comment below! However I will not be able to respond because this is a side blog, but you will still be added!

Taglist-

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x lannister reader #mels fics #mels rain of fire #ooc post #ooc #dubious consent #aemond smut #smut #angst angst angst #no beta we die like men #not beta'd

[slutforaemondtargaryen]

Nobody hurts what's mine | Aemond Targaryen

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: fluff, mention of rape (not by Aemond), murder/death, blood, slightly dark Aemond, no use of y/n, traumatic event

Summary: While Aemond was out on duty a Lord from the court took advantage of you. Aemond will definitely not let that slide.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: hi! i really don't know how i thought of this. i've never written anything like that so it's probably not the best quality, but i hope you like it and enjoy it! any support is very much appreciated.

reblogs, likes and comments are very appreciated <3

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WORK!

She was sitting in their chambers, Aemond not present. She couldn't stop thinking about what happened.

It was supposed to be a quick dinner with the rest of the court. She would drink a few goblets of wine, eat some food, and quickly disappear to her chambers, where she would fall asleep.

She wasn't planning that Lord Lannister would follow her. He clearly had a few more drinks than he should've. His walking was not very straight.

Before she could even react, he pulled her aside to an empty hallway. She tried to fight him, but he forced himself upon her, putting a hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. She bit him multiple times however he didn't seem to feel it at all.

It was probably quick for him. For her, it were the longest minutes of her life. When he was done he just whispered ''Don't tell anyone or something bad will happen.'' and disappeared back to the dining hall.

She quickly went to her chambers. She told a maid to prepare her a bath as quickly as possible and requested moon tea. The maid sent for the moon tea without asking questions nevertheless made sure to let her Lord husband know. The bath was prepared in no time.

Her skin was raw from how strongly she washed her body, the places Lord Lannister touched. Scratches from her nails as she tried so hard to get the awful feeling off her. She felt so dirty all the segments of her skin that his disgusting hands touched. It felt like they were on fire. Tears streamed down her cheeks as everything slowly sunk in. The realization of what actually happened.

So many thoughts were running through her head. Does this mean I was unfaithful to Aemond? Was it my fault? Did I deserve it? Did I provoke him? What if Aemond finds out? What will happen? Will he blame me?

She stepped out of the bath. Water was dripping on the floor, but she did not care. The robe she put on was comfortable, like silky sheets that were caressing her aching skin.

The moon tea was already served on the table, waiting just for her. She drank it quickly, making sure there was no drop left. Praying to the Seven that she would not be with a baby of the filthy Lannister.

When Aemond got the message, he immediately canceled everything he was doing and returned to the King's Landing. He needed to know what made his wife ask for moon tea, and he had a feeling that he won't like it.

When he arrived at the King's Landing, he got off Vhagar's back and without talking to anyone, headed to his shared chambers. He walked quickly, ignoring his mother, Queen Alicent, on the way.

The guards opened the chambers to him. When he looked into the chamber he saw his Lady wife sitting in the armchair in front of the fireplace. She didn't even notice he was there. The doors closed behind him as he walked up to his wife.

He kneeled next to the armchair and sighed. ''One of the maids sent me some information,'' he said while placing his hand on hers. She flinched slightly, which caused him to put his hand away. Wounded a little. ''Is it true that you ordered the moon tea?'' he asked with a soft voice, not wanting to make her feel pressured.

She nodded. She didn't feel like talking at all, she was scared of Aemond's reaction. ''Why?'' he asked. He wanted to touch her, caress her hand, hair, anything, but he wanted to respect her comfort zone.

She kept silent. The bad habit of scratching her fingers until they are bleeding coming back. Aemond noticed it and took her hands in his which made her look at him.

He kneeled in front of her, his face desperate and worried. He loved her too much and he was scared of what happened. His hair was loose over his shoulders. He was wearing his clothes for riding, which he usually took off right after. Not now, his wife was his priority.

He kissed her hands gently, causing her eyes to swell up with tears. Aemond did not understand what was happening so he hugged her. He wanted her to know that he was there for her. She cried over his shoulder and they both sat there like that for a few minutes.

Aemond finally started getting what happened. Why his lady wife has requested the moon tea and why she was crying now. He only needed a name. A name of the bastard that laid his hands upon her, who forced himself upon her.

''Who?'' only came out of his lips. His voice was demanding although gentle at the same time. ''Lord Lannister,'' she said in between sobs, clutching on him even more, scared that he would leave her. That he was disgusted by her.

Aemond's lilac eye darkened. How did the filthy Lannister dare to touch his wife while he was away? He would pay for it, and Aemond would make sure that Lord Lannister would regret every second of the terror he did to his wife.

He got pulled out of his thoughts when she said something he never thought he would hear. The sentence 'Are you disgusted with me?' ringing in his ears.

He pulled a little away to look into her eyes. ''What? No of course not, my dear wife.'' He caressed her head slowly while she looked at him with glossy eyes. He could see how much pain she had endured. ''Why would you think that, little dragon?'' he was a little sad that her head would even come up with it.

''Because of...'' she looked away. ''Of what he did. What if it was my fault? What if I-'' Aemond cut her off with a gentle 'shh' ''Do not say those words again. It was not your fault, never think that. That pig of a Lannister cannot keep his hands to himself, and he will pay.''

He kissed her forehead. ''There is nothing that could make you disgusting to me.'' she smiled at that, clearly relieved. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. ''I love you, little dragon.'' he pulled her into his chest and kept caressing her hair. ''I love you too,'' she replied.

Those words made Aemond's body fill with warmth. He loved her so much, too much. He would kill for her, burn the world for her only to make sure that she was happy and safe. He loved her to such depths that he would betray his family if she asked him to. He hated it, but he knew that his life without her would not make sense.

When she fell asleep at night after many comfort hours with Aemond he went to finally take his revenge for his wife. He wanted to do it earlier, the second he found out but he couldn't leave his little dragon alone, not in that state.

He was furious when he found out that Lord Lannister left the King's Landing, and returned to Casterly Rock due to 'important issues'. He tried to run away. Coward. Aemond thought.

This wasn't going to stop him. He would get his revenge even if it meant he had to go to Casterly Rock.

He rode Vhagar. Oh, how he wished to see Lannister's face when he saw Aemond's dragon. Aemond didn't waste any time finding a place to land. He landed on the castle grounds, not caring about some towers falling because of Vhagar's wings. Why would he anyway?

He heard people screaming, some panicking. Aemond didn't care. He headed inside the castle. A young maid helped him find Lord Lannister's chambers. Such a sweet servant girl, she didn't know that she was helping the murderer to kill her Lord.

When Aemond barged into the chambers he saw Lord Lannister packing things in fear. ''You won't need them,'' Aemond told him. His tone was so horrifying that many courageous guards would run away in fear.

''What do you want?'' Lord Lannister said, his eyes filled with fear. ''What do I want?'' Aemond repeated slowly. He twirled with his dagger between his fingers. ''Don't you know that you shouldn't touch things that are not yours?'' he asked. His whole demeanor was calm which was surprising to Lord Lannister.

He didn't reply, instead, he tried to grab a sword nearby. Before he could even reach him he screamed in pain. Aemond's dagger was in his hand. ''Was that hand first?'' Aemond asked with a coy smirk. ''Doesn't matter you're going to lose both.''

Aemond ripped the dagger out of his hand and cut it off in a swift motion. Blood flowed out on the marble floor. Lord Lannister screamed in pain, he tried to clutch the hand to stop the bleeding but Aemond wouldn't let him. He loved his pained screams so much. ''You're a little cunt, aren't you? Taking advantage of my lady wife when I'm not there. You really thought I wouldn't find out?'' Aemond snickered.

''I told that bitch to not tell anyone,'' Lannister said. Aemond got furious when he heard Lannister call his little dragon a 'bitch'. Without waiting for anything he cut off his other hand.

''This is going to start a war between us, boy!'' Lannister gritted out. He was angry, and Aemond smirked. ''So be it,'' with that word, Aemond slit Lord Lannister's throat.

#aemond targaryen #aemond angst #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #fanfiction #fluff #aemond fluff #house of the dragon #house lannister #house targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #hotd fanfic

[aelenavelaryon]

Robert Baratheon x Reader (pt.2)

Summary: in which the Queen gets her revenge on her husband

The return of dragons came to a surprise for the realm. It was unexpected yet a blessing, especially for Rhaenyra. Finally, dragons returned to the world. Robert was not on board with having them in King's Landing at first but after watching Rhaenyra be happy after the loss of their child he agreed. Robert, despite marrying her without love came to enjoy her company as the two enjoyed making children.

Rhaenyra choose to let her dragons roamed free in a place where they were all away from people, to avoid harming innocent people. Prince Daemon was born in the year 283, near the end of the year. His brother Orys came days after his first name day in 284. In the year 286 came the twins, Aemon and Aemond. Just a year later in 287 she lost a child, it was then that Dragons were reborn.

By 290, Rhaenyra's dragons had grown a lot. The year prior they disappeared and when they returned they were the size of an adult dragon. So, for the first time in centuries a Targaryen finally took to the skies on dragonback. Balerion, the dragon she rode flew her to a part of the Keep that was abandoned and where he kept dragons eggs.

Rhaenyra brought Dragon Keepers to the Keep to help with the dragons and their eggs. The eggs, which were enough to give to each one of her children and brother, were kept warm and ready in the children's room. Finally, after five years of trying for a daughter, a girl finally came. Well, more like two. Rhaena and Helaena came during the summers of 290. By then, her children all had dragons eggs. Prince Daemon had claimed Caraxes, while his brother's hatched their eggs. Orys named his Eros. Aemon named his Moonfyre and Aemond named his Meraxes. Princess Rhaena and Helaena's dragon eggs hatched the same day of their birth.

King Robert threw a feast in honor of their first name day. By then, queen Rhaenyra had given him four sons and two daughters. Princess Rhaena was said to be as wild and defiant as her mother in her youth. Rhaena had the Targaryen hair and eyes, while her twin, princess Helaena had black hair and blue eyes like his father but she was as quiet and calm as her late grandmothers, queen Rhaella and Lady Cassana Baratheon. Robert was a decent king who took the input of his queen. They had a quiet a decent marriage.

Since the day they married Robert kept to his wife's and his own chambers. He slept with no other woman that was not his wife. Some had said he changed for the better and Eddard Stark could attest to that. Rhaenyra's life was good. She had no worries. Everything was just perfect.

The news reached her a few weeks later. Robert Baratheon had slept with Cersei Lannister or so she claimed. Cersei was a girl of three and twenty. She was yet to be married as her father hadn't found her a good match yet. Rhaenyra when she heard said nothing. Robert even thought she hadn't heard but she had. She knew, thanks to her little birds that Jaime was Cersei's lover. So, her plan was to take Jaime from Cersei. It was her goal to make him loyal to her.

Her plan began the very next day. She had asked Robert for a new guard. Stating that with six children it was better for them and her to have extra security. The king agreed. She smiled and acted as if nothing was happening. When Cersei was forced to move the keep by her father's order, Rhaenyra was forced to confront her husband.

Robert entered their shared chambers. "Nyra" she looked away. Rhaenyra was two and twenty. She had given her husband six children. She never complained nor did she cause him any problems. She simply did her duty, ever the dutiful her mother used to say. "I have never asked anything of you, nor have I ever caused you trouble or any problems. I have stood by you for the last seven years. I married you despite everything. I am no saint, nor have I ever been. I brought a son into a marriage that was not yours. You loved him and took care of him as if he was your own. And in return I gave your four sons with your blood and two daughters with your blood" there was a brief silence. "Where our children not enough?" she asked. "Was I not enough?" she asked.

Rhaenyra had never been insecure. How could she? She was a Targaryen, their beauty seemed to be god like and now, with her dragon being a god seemed far more possible than before. "I love you, Robert. But I will not be the person you treat like a common whore. If Cersei gives you a bastard child I will give you one too. And if she gives you another so will I" she said. Robert was too stunned to speak. She gave him on chance to speak before she left their shared chambers, Arthur and Jaime following behind.

Rhaenyra knew Cersei's greatest love was Jaime, and she rarely even allowed him to wonder far from her. Jaime didn't mind, watching over her gave him some sort of relief as he felt guilty for killing her father years back. He also wanted to keep her safe as he could not keep Elia and her children. Jaime was also avoiding his sister, as much as she would try to find him but he would walk the other way or ignore her pleas to talk. Over the months the good relationship between the queen and king perished in the blink of an eye. King Robert returned to his drunken and whoring ways.

Cersei Lannister gave birth to a son who she named Joffrey Baratheon, a boy with black hair and green eyes, he seemed to be all his father but the eyes. A year later, in the year 292, queen Rhaenyra gave birth to a son, a boy she named Rhaegar Targaryen and a daughter who she named Rhaella. The boy had blonde white hair. His eyes were the same eyes of princess Alyssa Targaryen, wife of Baelon Targaryen. One green eye and purple. Her daughter, princess Rhaella had a her grandmother's looks. Ser Jaime Lannister was the first one to hold his two children. A little princeling he used to call him and his little baby girl. Jaime and Rhaenyra were the ones who picked the names.

Robert knew but he said nothing as the guilt of returning to his old habits returned. Prince Jacaerys came four years after his sisters, then, a year after him came Lucerys. Princess Rhaenyra had always loved those names and had always wanted to name one of her sons like them. Prince Jacaerys had dark brown hair and purple eyes, his brother Lucerys was just like his brother. Queen Rhaenyra bore thirteen children at the short age of thirty. Her last two children were girls. Daughters. Visenya and Daenerys, daughters of Ser Arthur Dayne.

Eddard Stark never married, instead he served his queen Rhaenyra his entire life. And of course he took care of their two sons. Ned had became her closest companion alongside Arthur and Jaime Lannister. She had no other allies at court but them. At least, she didn't trust anyone else but them. Cersei gave Robert three more children. Tommen, Myrcella and Joanna but they were known as bastards since they were not married.

On the queen's name day, a thirtieth name day celebration was made in her honor. Every house in the realm attended, including Dorne, Driftmark and the North. By then, Prince Jaehaerys was nearly six and ten, Daemon was five and ten, Orys three and ten, Aemon and Aemond were one and ten, Helaena and Rhaena were eight, Rhaegar and Rhaella were nearly six, Jacaerys was four, prince Lucerys three and his sisters had just turned one.

Queen Rhaenyra, despite birthing thirteen children looked far better than most, she was grateful, she also took care great of her figure, she wanted to preserve herself as much as she could. Robert knew that seven of those children where not his. Jaehaerys had been claimed as a Targaryen despite Tywin's insistence to keep him as a bastard. Rhaenyra did not wish for her son to bear the name Baratheon or Stark. Brandon had written to her often wanting to know about his son but he not once had asked for the boy to visit him nor to be claimed as a Stark. She knew Catelyn did not like the idea of Brandon's bastard sons being in their home and possible taking Robb's birthright.

During the Queen's name day celebration things are said and revenge is plotted. They say when you play the game of thrones you win or you die, there is no middle ground. Queen Rhaenyra is going to win, no matter what. The question is, will she succeed or will she fail?

#aegon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon x reader #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon #alicent hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #robert baratheon #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #arthur dayne #rhaegar targaryen #ned stark #brandon stark

[writingsofwesteros]

Masterlist of works

WEEKLY ASK MENU  MODERN AU 

Daemon Targaryen 

Meeting Caraxes -- Meeting Baby -- He Knew Unwanted Attention  Exhaustion -- Part 2 A Maiden  Winter’s Love  * Danger in the Night * A Father’s Protection Love to a slave * The Morning After  Songbird  Belonging  I Dream of You Another Heir The Stranger   Part 2  Ignored Hurt Sister  Jealousy  A Problem  The Dressmaker * -- Part 2 A state of Undress -- Part 2 Protective  A rewrite  I’m here  Changes  Part 2  Part 3 A new Dawn Savior  A Tragedy  Legacy Safety  Proposal Declined and Made Accusations  Secrets  Playing Games Passion & Desire  His Riding a dragon Long lost daughter  Finally, a girl  The Other Sister  The Secret Daughter  Adopted  Obsessive  Love found in such places  Returning  The Martell Girl CEO Taboo Nature -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 A Vale’s Secret -- Part 2

Witch!Cousin Series Masterlist 

Secret Lovers - Cousin!Reader  Part One 

The Second Daughter  Part One Part Two

All the Sons Masterlist AU - all the daughters 

Childhood Friend  The Proposal 

The New Heirs Chapter One Chapter Two

Claiming What’s His Chapter One

His Rose. His Mistress Masterlist

A Stag’s Love Chapter One The First Meeting

His Sister & His Mistress Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three 

The Spare Chapter One Chapter Two

The Hand’s Sister Chapter One 

The Handmaiden  Chapter One

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

First times Learning Pleasure 

The Maid The meeting

The Other Hightower Masterlist 

Viserys Targaryen x Reader

The Marriage   Part 2  The Labour   Arguments ------------------ Seduction  Part 2  Part 3 ------------------ The Mistress  Sweet Sister -- Part 2 -- Part 3

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Moments in obsession   The Wedding Night  The Reunion (Part 2) ~~ Dreams -- Part 2 Obsessed  Secret Daughter’s secret love Chess Player -- Part 2 MILF  Stopping the fight  A Dragon’s Rose Protective  All his Another way to rule  A lifetime has passed His Eye Our Green Girl -- Part 2 Alternative His Brother’s Girl

Twin Flame

The Baratheon Girl Masterlist 

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

The Maid Obsessed  Pure Love -- Before King -- After King Threesome with Aemond  Gained a Wife Royal Mistress  Innocence  Mommy Kink Older & Wiser? -- Part 2 His mother’s Maid  His Brother’s Girl A willing seduced King Lemon Cakes So Wrong

Heleana Targaryen 

Showing her what she is missing -- Part 2

Tywin Lannister 

Breeding Kink Afterwards  The One That Got Away  Twin Flames  Making Up Protecting  You Will Be Mine -- Part 2 -- Part 3

Cregan Stark 

A Dragon in Winter *

Criston Cole x Reader

Happier Endings  Lies

Always second choice  Masterlist 

Harwin Strong x Reader

As pretty as a flower Labour  Watching  Protector  A Daughter Comfort  Rumours Mine Now

Larys Strong x Reader

Insecurities  The Truth  Obsessive  Part 2 Web of lies  -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 5 (au?) -- Part 6 -- Part 7 His Strong Wife

Otto Hightower x Reader

The Wedding Crush Backup Plan  HIS -- Part 2 Overstimulation  A Maiden  Pleasure overflowing  Too Much

Alicent Hightower x Reader 

Moments  Pleasure in the water 

Corlys Velaryon x Reader

A New Wife -- Labour 

Robert Baratheon x Reader

New Wife.New Heirs -- Part 2

Front Pages for AU’s

Tragic Love Rise of Dragons 

KINKTOBER 

Works 

Story snaps - Works Monthly Themes  Kink Meme - 1K Drabbles 

Masterlist Part 2

#daemon targaryen x reader #tywin lannister x reader #masterlist #Rhaenyra x reader #cregan stark x reader #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra #robert baratheon x reader #corlys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader

[eraenaa]

The Prince and the Poet

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader AU

Synopsis: It is established that Prince Aemond hates poems and sonnets; it was just a pity that you adored them. 

Warnings: Mature, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Aemond Writes a Poem, Childhood Friends, Hidden Attraction, Not Proofread

Word Count: 2,900

Inspired by my Original Fic on AO3, The Den of Dragons and Lions

Aemond scoffed and rolled his eye as he watched you completely enthralled by the sonneteer who performed before you. It had been un-endless hours he had to suffer as the court was subjected to watching poets read their works for the day’s entertainment. It was all too boring, all too frivolous, it was an utter waste of time. Aemond could not understand why you would willingly subject yourself to these men's trite and untrue words— whose delusions and desires were projected in their works. Aemond strongly believed that those who write poems and epics are weaklings and cowards. They do not have the courage to go on great adventures and woo their loves, so they can only imagine and write them down on parchment. And you were the sweet, naive fool who brought into their words—declaring their works beautiful and unparalleled. Blinded by flowery verses and empty promises. 

You sigh longingly in your seat as the sonneteer before you recited your favorite sonnet of them all. Your lips silently move unconsciously as you recite your most favored work with him. Aemond, who sat by your side, sneered at the sigh that left your pillowy lips and the enchanted look in your eyes. His gaze traveled the court; every young maiden swooned by the words and looks of the sonnet who stood in the middle, reciting the work that you clung on to. When his torment finally ended, Aemond rolled his eye once more as you quickly stood and clapped your hands, an ovation for the young man who had finished his performance. Aemond did no such thing, only staring down the sonneteer who bowed and savored the praises given. 

“I hope he shall return soon— and with new material!” You exclaimed to Helaena as you two walked the halls, arms linked together, Aemond trailing behind you. It was an old scene, your actions instilled since childhood. You practically grew up in the Red Keep with the princes and princess, a lion fostered by dragons. 

You hear Aemond’s third scoff of the afternoon, making you glance behind only to see the consistent look of annoyance on his face. “I would take it you did not enjoy?” You say and face onward, feeling Aemond fasten his steps and now walking beside you and Helaena. “It is an utter waste of time; why must we spend hours on this frivolity when pressing matters could be attended to?” You roll your eyes at the Prince’s complaint. 

“Aemond, your attendance was not required. If you believe poetry is a waste of time, I do not understand why you came there.” You say simply, pausing in your tracks. Helaena, a silent audience as you and Aemond began your ceaseless squabbles once more. Aemond was silent for a moment; the truth of his actions may not be revealed. “We did not force you to sit there and listen to Sir Liam— if anything, I’d prefer if you did not come; your glares and scoffs were seen and heard, and are very much unappreciated,” Aemond clenched his jaw as he had no response that he’d like to share. His eye traveled to his sister, who had a knowing smirk on her lips whilst you waited for his response that would not come.“I’ll see you both at supper,” Aemond grumbled as his eye landed on you, who bit back her smirk, the prince stomping away as you finally let your smile slip your lips. 

“Must you really tease him? You perfectly know why he sat through the readings,” Helaena said as you and she sat in the gardens for tea. You picking at the candied lemons that you and Aemond would usually fight over. You smile as you lick your finger clean of the sugary syrup. “Yes, I know why he suffered through the readings. However, he is not aware that I am knowledgeable of his intent,” Helaena sighed, “How long will you make him suffer?” The princess asked, already impatient for the day her closest friend and brother would finally admit their attractions. 

“Suffer?” You ask in shock, “I do no such thing! He inflicts his suffering himself—“ Helaena shook her head and laughed. “You’ve known of Aemond’s attraction to you for years! Yet you still act so clueless with him!” She reasoned. “I am a lady! I am expected to act chase and reserve. I cannot just go up to Aemond and confront him with his secret attraction!” You exclaimed with a fake and exaggerated look of scandal on your face, making Helaena laugh. 

“If you are waiting for my brother to acknowledge and confess his attraction towards you, then you must wait— it might take him a lifetime.” Helaena mused, a hint of frustration and pity in her voice, for Aemond had wanted you since childhood; he was just afraid to let it be known. “Then I pity him… he could have had the golden beauty of the realm, but he chose to stay silent.” You say confidently— proud with the title bestowed upon you by lords and ladies, small and noble folk men who agreed that your beauty was as valuable and desirable as the gold your family was known for. Helaena hummed quietly and quickly prayed to the gods that her brother would soon admit his attraction, for Helaena knew that your pride would not subject you to confess your feelings first. 

“Just because you do not understand or care for poetry does not mean they are a waste!” You exclaimed as Aemond picked another fight with you. You were peacefully seated in Helaena’s chambers, stroking your cat's fur mindlessly as Aemond’s own pet lay beside you. You were in no mood to fight with him and battle his views of poetry. “They are! They’re pointless. If you must say something, then say it— why must they dance around the matter? Why must they go on and on about something that could be said in one sentence? Cowards, the likes of them are!” You let out an exasperated sigh, making Aemond smirk at your annoyance. 

He finds you quite endearing at the state, which is why he often takes time out of his day just to annoy you. Relishing at the roll of your enchanting eyes, the sighs that leave your plump, pink lips, and the furrow between your perfectly arched brows. If he were lucky and had annoyed you to quite an extent, you’d stomp your foot like a spoiled child. Or simply wave him off with your pampered hand because you no longer had a word of defense. 

“Because they are poets! They do not wish to come to the answer and their intentions all at once— they create beauty with their words. They are capable of making subjects so dire be of great interest that they, in turn, create spectacles upon it!” You defended but Aemond only rolled his eye and shook his head, the former action he had gotten from you. Ever since you two were young, you would always roll your eyes when you found something disagreeable; Aemond would mock you for it— would mimic your actions in hopes of getting more from you. However, in time, he managed to adopt the same mannerisms. 

“Archmaester Sisco believed that poetry is of great danger,” he said, taking a goblet to his lips. Your eyes followed the way the ball on his throat booed as you waited for him to continue his thought.  “He says they mislead and are obscure and false— that poets are seducers of the mind,” He finished, noting the way your eyes were on his throat. Guessing you’d want to strangle him out of annoyance, Aemond was amused with the thought of you thinking about strangling him. 

“The Archmaester’s proclamation and thinking is old— irrelevant in our times. Even his student, Archmaester Aristedes, disagrees with his views on poetry. He reasons that it is not harmful— it is a form of expression! Cathartic to those who read and write it!”Aemond let another scoff of derision slip his lips, pushing your annoyance into frustrated anger. 

“You would not understand the beauty of poetry because you keep everything you feel inside you! You do not know what great relief it is to say or even write what you desire and hope for!” You exclaimed, and Aemond tensed in his seat. Silence surrounded the room as Aemond could not work out a response. You saw him fisting the arm of his chair, the knuckles of slender fingers turning pink from his tight grip. 

You sighed heavily, “What I meant is… I understand that you do not like poetry and find it pointless and a waste— but I don’t. I am not forcing poetry onto you, nor am I trying to change your views upon it. I enjoy and adore poetry— I just wish you would stop discouraging me from enjoying it. 

“Why do you enjoy it?” Aemond asked after a short while. You try to hide your surprise at his question. “Because… I find it romantic. For someone to take time to depict you with such beautiful imagery and flattering words, to love and admire you enough to dedicate a work of literature to your name… for me, it is the best way to express to someone how much you truly love them.” You could not look at Aemond as you said the words. In truth, a part of you felt silly because your love for poetry was only solidified because you loved a boy who you knew would not subject himself to create such works. When you read your favorite epics and songs, you would humor yourself and imagine it was Aemond who wrote it for you, knowing he would never do such a thing. 

Days passed since your and Aemond’s interaction and you noticed that you had scarcely seen his presence. You would pass by him whilst in training and join him and his kin for supper— but other than that, you could not feel a trace of his presence. He would usually join you and Helaena for tea or would suddenly appear by your side as you walked along the keep. He didn’t even pick fights or tease you anymore. Him growing more silent and reserved. Now you regret speaking— wishing you had just held your tongue and let him continue to disparage the sacred thoughts of poems and songs. 

It was high night, and you sat silently in your chambers, staring at the fire, trying to find ways to approach Aemond. Already missing his teasing presence— the only presence you would muster the patience to endure. 

You furrowed your brows as you heard shuffling at your door. Your eyes catch the shadow of a figure outside. You cautiously and quietly stood, going to your door only to see a piece of parchment being slipped at the slit of the wooden door. Your confession only grew. You quickly took the parchment and opened the door, revealing its sender. Three eyes went wide as you were met with Aemond, who blended in the dark. However, his silver hair shined in the light of the moon. “What are you doing?” You ask and turn to the parchment he had slipped. 

“Nothing— I… this—“ Aemond fumbled for words; you had never seen him in such a state. He was usually composed and stoic. You thought seeing him bashful and embarrassed was a nice gift from the gods. “What is this?” You ask and unfold the parchment. “No! Don’t—“ Aemond bit his tongue as it was too late to hinder you. Your eyes already consuming what was written. 

I’ve known you for half of my life yet; you consume the whole of it I’ve had you near and close to me yet, I only gaze from afar

I do not know how to proclaim I’m not certain how to say it without blame, but you, my beauty, are the cause of my desire and, most of the time, my ire

I know I pick countless squabbles, but I do it because I love to hear you babble about things I have no care for but you just simply adore

We disagree for many reasons, but I’d rather fight you through the seasons You, my beauty, so lovely and carefree my heart could not help but love you, most ardently 

Aemond watched you bite your lip as a wide smile started to spread. Aemond felt heat all over his body— anticipation did not sit well with him. He was ready to meet your laughs at his attempt to make you a poem. Ready to face rejection, but instead of the pessimistic thoughts in his mind, he was met with your sweet, pillowy lips. You were so excited and thrilled that you could not help but kiss him. Show him how you adored him as well. 

What was supposed to be a short and chaste kiss turned deep with passion. Lips dancing and refusing to part. You and Aemond stumbled to your bed, uncaring and ignorant of the teachings of the gods, for you and him had long surpassed your desires, and they could no longer be denied. They were ready to claim without thought of consequences because both of you knew that you’d happily take all punishment that would be presented if it meant neither of you had to stop your actions. 

“Gods, I want you,” You uttered as his lips traveled to kiss your soft cheeks, then trailed downward to the side of your neck. His hands were on your waist and threading dangerously close to your bosom. “Say it again,” Aemond almost begged. Savoring your scent, delighting at the way you feel against him. “I want you, Aemond. I’ve wanted you for years— you, only you.” You sighed as he left marks on your necks, earning quiet moans from you at the new sensation.  

Aemond let a low moan rumble as his cock painfully strained against his trousers, throbbing at your admittance of want for him. It was all he wanted. He thought his deepest desire in life was to have a dragon, but that was wrong. He desired you more than claiming a dragon— his deepest desire was to claim a lioness.

Aemond tangled his hair in your hair, finally letting his other hand move from your waist and cup your breast. Your hand, in turn, went to palm him through his trousers, watching as his jaw clenched and the ball of throat bobbed once more. “We… we must not lay until we are married,” Aemond said, voice pained and filled with impatience. Yet, he still did not move atop you; he kept his hold, but you relinquished yours. “We don’t have to,” You said, trying to push away your need for him to touch you. Aemond sighed and hurried his face in your neck, his lips and breath tickling your skin. “Then how…” Aemond trailed, and a thought passed your mind. “We must not touch each other….yet. However, I do not recall teaching forbidding us to touch ourselves,” You whisper, Aemond’s lilac eye flying to you, dark and filled with lust, mirroring yours. 

Aemond moved to remove his weight from you. You keep your eyes locked as you back away to the back of your bed, resting yourself on the pillows as Aemond kneels by the edge of your feathered bed, watching each move you make with his glazed, lone eye. 

You bit your lip harshly as your hand threaded a path that it threaded plenty of times, the thought you had as you did the actions now watching you. You slipped your hands, and you resisted moaning as your fingers brushed over the pearl of your cunt. Aemond admired the way your breasts peaked and traced through your silk nightgown. The way your eyes were hooded and how your plump lips finally parted and moaned his name. 

Aemond could no longer resist. Slipping his hand into his trousers just like he did every night, the image of you no longer in his mind but now sitting before him, calling out his name.“A-Aemond,” You stuttered as you felt the familiar cold within you. How desperately you wanted it to be, him to make you feel such a way. Aemond groaned and tilted his head to the heavens as he felt his cock twitch; he was quick to reach his peak; just the way you called for his name was enough for him to spill so quickly. 

Aemond closed the space between the two of you, each of your hands still pleasuring yourselves while lips met and wanted to be together when both of you reached your peaks. “You will be mine soon, my heart… mine to pleasure and please, all mine,” Aemond swore against your lips. You nod your head as you fasten your pace. “I’ve always been yours, Aemond.” You said truthfully, the final push for Aemond to come undone; you quickly followed as his moans spurred your peak. Aemond kissed your lips once more and boldly prayed for patience, patience, and restraint to not take you that night.

It was not enough for Aemond; pleasuring himself as he watched you pleasure yourself was not enough, but it had to be for now. Because when morning comes, he’ll demand that you shall be his, just as it ought to be.

If you enjoyed the premise of this story, you might like the inspiration for it!

#house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond smut #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #lannister oc #poetry #house lannister #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #archive of our own #hotd ao3 #hotd fic

[absurduty]

UNDER HIS SKIN [AMD.T X READER]

PART I.

summary: Aemond loves his big sister, so unfairly married to another. So unfairly away from him for seven cruel years. So when his sweet sister returns to King's Landing again, he is determined to show her he is not a child anymore.

warnings: none? Correct me if I'm wrong please 🫶🩷

a/n: smut is in the second part 🫶 not this one since it is mostly childhood focused my loves 🫶

Aemond had never gone a day without thinking of you. How could he when you were in his life? His half-sister. His beautiful y/n, his beautiful wife-to-be.

Just after Aemma, and right before Alicent, King Viserys the Peaceful married your mother, Myria Martell of Dorne. In that short time before her death, the olive-skinned woman managed to bear you, her exquisitely beautiful daughter.

A girl possessing both Dornish and Valyrian beauty? The Realm roamed with anticipation. You had the dark skin and olive skin of a Dornishwoman, combined with the features and eyes of a Valyrian beauty.

From his first breath, you were his virtue. You were five years old, holding Alicentʼs third-born. Your big blue eyes shone with adoration, and you could swear his little hands reached out for you.

If Alicent had trouble managing Helaena as a babe, Aemond had to be ten times worse. He cried out your name so often, that his mother would be forced to plead for your help. Every cry of your name was accompanied by a bitter feeling in your absence.

Like the sweet girl you were, you had no objections to helping your stepmother take care of her third child. You doted on Aemond, and you could not contain your excitement when he ultimately, at a year old, took his first steps into your arms. You kissed his forehead as he relished the feeling of your warm touch.

You would spend your free time playing with him and Helaena, his head on your lap and Helaena showing you her bugs.

And as you grew into a ravishing young woman, Aemond continued to follow behind you, his small frame glaring at any Knight or nobleman who looked at you too long.

You had been content to read with him, kissing his cheek every night before you tucked the eight-year-old into bed. Aemond couldnʼt imagine a good night without your kiss. He wouldn't.

One day, you'd be his wife. His and his alone. If his lady-mother betrothed Helaena to Aegon, it is only fair that you and him do the same thing. Once he is of age to marry, he will convince Mother Alicent to keep the bloodline pure.

His annoyance at not being able to obtain a dragon had never been directed at you. Never.

The door creaked open to your chambers, like most nights. The small sound causes you to stir awake. You weren't a deep sleeper.

“Valonqar,” you smile tiredly, scooting over “What is wrong?”

Aemond said nothing, just sighed as he crawled into your arms.

Your hair was unkempt and your eyes were half closed. So adorable.

“Cuddle me, rōva mandia,” he murmured, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms resorted to wrapping around your waist, and his soft sighs sent his breath tickling your neck. “I haven't a dragon yet.”

You sighed softly, taking his face in your hands and beckoning him to look you in the eye.

“Aemond, look at me.” you requested softly, to which he, with slight reluctance, looked you in the eyes. he loved the way you looked at him. how your face softened when your eyes landed on him. “You will get a dragon. How could a dragon not like you? You are everything good.”

Those words did it for him. they made his heart flutter like none could. he took a good look at her face and took some moments to admire her beauty. your sun-kissed skin looked heavenly in the moonlight shining on the sheets and her face, making her eyes shine brighter than they usually did.

At that moment, all the prince could think about was how he’d marry you someday. No matter what people say he could do.

With that thought, his body drifted off to slumber, holding you close to him. His head on your chest and a small smile gracing his face.

So imagine his turmoil when you were announced to be betrothed to a lord of house Lannister the very next evening.

He begged, begged, begged Alicent to discuss this with Father and reconsider.

“Betroth her to me once I am of age.” he urged his mother, his frustration rising as his efforts seemed futile. His lady-motherʼs decision was as if it was set in stone.

The night before your departure, he visited you one last time and slept cuddling you. At a given point, his eyes fluttered open and he stared up at the ceiling.

“Fools. All of them.” he quietly spoke up, his tears dried on his cheek. “At least they didn’t betroth you to that bastard.”

“Aemond,” you spoke up softly, brushing his hair out of his face. “You mustn't call him that. He is our nephew.”

“Be that as it may, his father is still a Strong,” he replies coldly, leaning into your touch. he turned his head so that his lips brushed against your cheek. You’re lucky he loves you enough not to stress your mind with the image of those Strong boys.

You sighed, deciding it was best to drop this matter. Perhaps his childhood crush, along with his disdain for your nephews would fade. You pulled him closer like two cats keeping each other warm. Perhaps his interest would fade once you married a lord of Casterly Rock.

The next day had come by rather quickly, and you had bid goodbye to each relative with a kiss on the cheek.

However, Aemond felt as if the kiss you planted on his cheek meant so much more than the ones you planted on the others.

And off you had gone, married to a man of House Lannister.

7 years of marriage had gone by, and you had sired 4 healthy boys. Your husband treated you better than most Lords and you could not be happier. You continued being the sweet and well-spoken young woman and you couldn't be happier in the presence of your dear sons.

So it was only natural when your sons came with you as you visited Kingʼs Landing again. You kept your sons at your hip as you exited the carriage, greeted by the sight of your dear brother.

Once your eyes landed on him, it seemed you were unable to tear them away. He grew. When he used to be half your size, he grew to be almost as tall as your step-grandsire. His lean and muscled figure stood tall and gracious. His gorgeous sharp features were accompanied by a grin on his face. You were almost envious of his shiny hair.

“Mandia.” he grins, taking your soft palm in his, pressing a kiss on your index finger. “It pleases me so to see you again.”

He had to refrain himself from pouncing on you, reminded of your sons at your side. All he wanted now was to shower you with kisses. Seven, he’d take you in that carriage if he could.

“Valonqar,” you smile, holding your four-year-old in your arms. gods, he grew to hate when you called him that. why must you still refer to him as little? “I hope you have been doing well.”

He wasn't stupid. He knew she was referring to Driftmark. He kept the letters you wrote to him, reassuring him that he was still handsome despite the lost eye.

“I have,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, too close to your jaw. “And who are these little Lords?”

“Vahaemor, Vigor, Vador, and Vahaegon.” you beam with the most radiant smile he’s seen, the youngest asleep in your arms.

“Motherhood soothes you, mandia.” he coos, cupping one cheek with his left hand. you had to refrain from breaking out into a smile at his affectionate albeit slightly inappropriate gesture.

His eyes flickered to your sons, patting their little heads and smiling down at them. Your oldest son Vahaemor stood proudly, trying his best to imitate Aemondʼs posture.

“And I suppose each one of you will make a fine swordsman?” Aemond teases, to which your boys break out in talk and laughter.

“I'm already better than Vahaemor!” your second-born, Vigor speaks up, causing Vahaemor to grow irritated.

“You could not even beat an infant with a wooden sword!” Vahaemor retorts, lightly shoving Vigor.

“Mother!” Vigor whines, hitting your oldest-bornʼs arm.

“Look what you have caused, Aemond.” you tease playfully, rocking your youngest in your arms as your third-born, Vador, waddles over to Aemond to hug his leg.

“Tʼwas merely a compliment.” Aemond grins, looking down at Vador before taking him in his arms. gods, he should have been their father. he has not inquired yet about your Lord-husband, however, he was certain he could treat you better in any and every way. no doubt that if your husband were out of the picture, he would have had you. he would give your sons silver-haired siblings.

“Mhm,” you sigh softly, smiling up at him. what he wouldn't do to make you smile like that every day. “Let us enter the Keep. I wish to have my youngest sleep on a bed instead of me.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #asoiaf #house targaryen #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #aemond smut #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x you #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!oc #house lannister #dragonborn

[kingsanddragonsandgods]

⁂Early life:

Princess Visenya Targaryen of Runestone was born on the last day of the year 90AC, at her mother's ancestral home.

The newborn child was named after the Conqueror Queen, Visenya, by her father and anointed by holy oils seven days after her birth at the Sept-by-the-Sea in Runesport.

Queen Alysanne, who held the child during the ceremony is noted for having remarking that ‘the girl has all of Viserra’s beauty, but Alyssa’s temper’ to which the King is said to have answered ‘Gods be good’.

As Princess Visenya grew, her parents continued to battle, using the young girl as a pawn in their conflict, with both parents appealing to the King and Queen to take their side on occasion.

During her early years she grew especially close to her natural born brother, Orys Stone, the illegitimate son of Prince Daemon by Lady Rowena Royce, Lady Rhea’s older third cousin. The young boy was brought into Lady Rhea’s household in the year 90AC, following the passing of his mother.

From the age of five, her parents’ estrangement was permanent, with Prince Daemon returning to the Crownlands and Lady Rhea and their daughter remaining at the Vale. After royal intervention it was agreed that the Princess time was to be split between living in Runestone with her mother, and between the Red Keep and Dragonstone with her father, alternating during the seasons, summer and winter was spent on the Vale, while spring and autumn in the Crownlands, special celebrations were shared.

Her education appears to have been strict and somewhat old-fashioned, thus, in addition to her studies, Grand Maester Runciter notes in his journals, she was taught spinning and weaving and had an innate talent for weaving intricate tapestry. From the year 92 forward, Visenya, who had been betrothed to her newborn cousin, Prince Aerion, was expected to become Queen Consort, and her education reflected it. Her betrothed passed away in his cradle two years later, and Visenya was then betrothed to his newborn brother, Prince Aelor.

Her tutors at the time, Maester Adelin, Archmaester Vaegon and Master Petrarca of Volantis, regarded Princess Visenya as an extroverted, lively, highly intelligent, and strong-willed girl. Prince Daemon was reported to be proud of her horsemanship and marksmanship.

Because of her outstanding intellect, and his blunt favoritism, King Jaehaerys named Princess Visenya as his cupbearer in the Year 96AC, at the age of six.

The young princess often was allowed to discuss the classics, philosophy, and the affairs of state with ambassadors and envoys visiting the court of Jaehaerys. Moreover, she was personally acquainted with the painters, musicians, writers, and scholars who lived in and around the royal court.

Princess Visenya if often considered one of, if not, the best educated women of her generation.

The year 96AC marked another milestone for Princess Visenya: on the eight moon of the year, the young princess bonded and became the first rider of a she-dragon she named Huraxes. The same dragon that as a hatchling had been brought to Princess Daenerys Targayen. Huraxes had pearly scales and iridescent wing membranes, with pale and pinkish flames. The princess was allowed to bond with the she-dragons by royal decree after falling ill with a bolt of Spring Fever that nearly took her life.

Matches for Princess Visenya started being discussed by the Small Council, brought up by the Lord Hand. Thought Visenya was heiress to the largest fortress in the Vale and to the Ladyship of Runestone, it was argued that as she was a Princess of the Realm, the matter of her marriage was a prerogative of the King, which infuriated Prince Daemon, who at the time occupied the seat of Master of Law, the Grand Master agreed that such line of thought might anger the Vale, as the Princess was highly regarded by her people and her second cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn. Lord Corlys suggested his own son as a match for the princess, four years her junior, most likely to tie another dragonrider to his house. His Grace put down all talks of marriage for his niece, agreeing that such was the right of his brother and good sister to choose her match.

For the celebration of his niece's fifteenth nameday, the king ordered seven days of celebrations, with a tournament and grand feasts. The Queen's absence was noticed, excused as Her Grace was in the early stages of her final pregnancy, and Visenya was allowed to sit in the seat usually reserved for the consort; she was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty by the Dornish Ser Eldric Dayne, the Star in the Morning.

Since the Princess's return to court early in the spring of 104 AC, Visenya had caught the king’s eye, and it is reported that Viserys and his niece have become very close, spending hours each day in each other's company, promenading in the gardens, hunting in the Kingswood, and dancing together during feasts and balls.

The king is said to have spoiled his niece with lavish gifts, including presenting her with a manse in King’s Landing, a country estate crossing the Blackwater Rush and later a sea palace in the Reach.

⁂Marriage and Queenship:

After the death of Queen Aemma Arryn in the Year 105 AC, Princess Visenya, aged 15, became the 2nd wife and Queen Consort of her uncle, King Viserys I Targaryen. Their betrothal was announced a month following the queen’s passing, and a private ceremony was held three months later in Dragonstone.

It was a scandal at the time, as not only the King’s new marriage was announced a moon after the late queen’s passing in childbed, but it had also been rumored for some time that Viserys and Visenya had been lovers.

More salacious tales propagated by the fool Mushroom during the Dance of the Dragons tells of the princess sitting on her uncle's lap during feasts, kissing him shamelessly, and nibbling his fingers sensually as he fed her like a beloved pet; of the king fondling her breasts in public, and announcing to his courtiers that he and his niece would retire to make love. These have no contemporary support, with Septon Eustace calling such tales absurd and slanderous.

Over the matter of his marriage to his niece Viserys claimed that the marriage was in the public interest and ordered a grand celebration for the occasion of his new queen's coronation, to happen after the end of mourning period for Prince Baelon. Visenya was the first Queen Consort crowned in a separate ceremony from the reigning King. During the occasion the apparent advanced state of the queen's pregnancy caused a new wave of rumors that Visenya had been the King's mistress while the queen was still alive and that their child was conceived out of wedlock.

In their more than two decades of marriage, Visenya and Viserys had fourteen children, all survived into adulthood, something that the maesters attribute to the queen’s management of the nursery. Visenya’s role as a mother was glorified throughout the realm, their young new queen’s obvious fertility was seen, by the smallfolk and nobles alike, as both a bless from the Mother and a sign from the gods. With the birth of her twin girls, Princess Viserra and Princess Rhaelys, coins were issued, portraying her as the Mother, an allegory that would repeat itself many times for the remaining of her husband’s and son’s reign. If in her maidenhood, as a young princess, Visenya posed as a model for sculptures of the Maiden, in motherhood and queenship, she was now the Mother.

Although it was not the norm of the age, and in fact, apart from the late Queen Alysanne, no other queen receive such a honor, King Viserys granted Visenya a seat on his Small Council, leaning on her for advice on varied subjects due to his respect for her opinion and good judgment. She became a formidable figure with far-reaching influence during this time. According to some sources, her influence was such that Queen Visenya effectively ran the government alongside the Hand of the King.

In the year 115AC, around the time of her stepdaughter’s wedding to Ser Leanor Velaryon and in the years that followed, the Queen Consort started to work and put her own trusted people in ever higher positions to strengthen herself and her sons through them.

Visenya acted as her first husband’s regent after his health decline, sat in her eldest son’s war table following Viserys’s death.

⁂Personality:

Some historians have contended that to some extent she deserved her negative reputation propagated by her stepdaughter following the death of King Viserys I, despite the inaccuracies of the claims that she was sexually disreputable or regarding the legitimacy of her children, other criticisms of her were valid: she was ambitious, proud, obstinate, and masked her cunning behind a sweet-toned voice and flawless manners.

Princess Rhaenyra described her as a woman of reckless extravagance and wantonness, who seduced a grieving man, and whom the King nonetheless loved passionately and faithfully. It is widely known that those part of the Black Court of the Princess of Dragonstone took to call the queen ‘the King’s Great Whore’ and ‘Lady Concubine’, however always away from both the queen and the king’s ears as well as her supporters, further spreading the rumors of an extramarital affair while the late Queen Aemma still lived and questioning the validity of the legitimacy of their children. Despite rumors spread on her sons legitimacy supported by the queen's supposed lasciviousness, all of Visenya’s children resembled those of her lineage.

In her youth, Visenya was celebrated as ‘the most beautiful creature in the world’ and that there was ‘nothing lacking in her that the most beautiful girl should have’. Ser Alyn of Hull would reflect later in her lifetime that regarding her appearance ‘there were few women who could compete with the Queen in her prime’.

Visenya was fiercely independent, a trait she shared with her mother. Mellos described her as having ambitions to match her pedigree. However, Archmaester Gyldayn notes that Visenya was fully aware that a woman in Westeros could not hold power in her own right. Instead, Visenya orchestrated the rise of her sons.

Capable of acts of extreme ruthlessness, she, in contrast, was also able to demonstrate uttermost kindness and charity.

⁂Issue:

At four and thirty of age by the time of their weeding, Viserys was already considered in his middle age. The union however proved itself to be a happy one, and together they had 14 children, nine sons and five daughters.

Visenya had been taught the importance of receiving an education and came to play an extensive role in her children' education, resulting in the creation of a "superior breed of princes."

Queen Visenya was know to call her children her 'precious jewels', and took great pride in all of them, she was particularly close to the princesses Alyssa and Elaena, however it is said, that from all her children, her favorite was Prince Aegon.

edited on 11/04/2024

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #it's pro team green #kinda #viserys married his own niece #so she's team red #she's the bitch people accuse alicent of being #the children are there in essence #Aemond is the same #mostly #hotd #viserys targaryen x oc #viserys targaryen x reader #tyland lannister #fuck viserys

[crownedtargaryen]

Headcanons for Your First Time With Aemond, Aegon, Jacerys, Bran, Robb and Podrick

A/N : I’ve never written a headcanons post before so I have no real promises this will be any good. Please feel free to go to my ask box and recommend some ideas!

ALL NOTES (SHARES, LIKES, COMMENTS) ARE APPRECIATED!!

18+ NSFW content

Aegon

Without hesitation I can tell you this man is a switch

He would definitely start off harsh

He’d immediately go to tear your clothes off like you’re a whore h’s bought from a brothel

He looks at you like you’re a fresh piece of meat and he’s been starved for ages, absolutely craving every inch of your skin

You push him back and he’ll stare at you in shock, but then calm down

I’m assuming since you’re reading his you have a “i can fix him” mentality, so you’ve fixed him in this

he feels guilty at first, but you reassure him it’s alright and to be gentle, that you’ve never done this before

at you admitting he’s your first, he starts to rile up again, but is obviously swallowing it down

he’ll lift your dress and slip his hand beneath your undone corset, kissing over that fragile neck and leaving the filthiest bites on your skin

”You’re mine” he’ll demand against your earlobe “And I’ll make sure the whole castle knows that by the end of this.”

He’ll slip his fingers in, working your insides hesitantly. He’s not used to pleasuring someone else, more doing all this for his own pleasure

His movements are sloppy and reckless, but it feels good either way

It’s almost awkward, he stares at you at moments, trying to see if you’re feeling good

eventually you have to take charge of the situation, pushing him onto the sheets and working your way around his body

putting his dick in your mouth, watching as he whines and bucks his hips while panting like a dog in heat

you slip him in, your head tilting back. He mewls in pleasure, sitting up and guiding your hips, you stop him and tell him it hurts.

he listens, something you wouldn’t expect. You smile, petting his white hair and then locking lips with his, your bodies smothering each other as you ride him

you both are noisy, and he starts getting rougher with you, but you don’t seem to mind.

by the end of it all, he’s fucking you senseless until you’re on the verge of losing yourself, making a mess all over him as he does inside of you.

as for aftercare, he knows nothing of such. He merely gets up, wipes himself off, then lays with you and lets you cuddle close as he strokes your hair

honestly, the sex was good but he doesn’t seem to be educated enough. It’ll take a lot of it to get him perfect. ;)

Aemond

He’s a top and would NEVER let you overpower him

The entire experience is like a power trip, he tells you over and over that he owns you, and you believe it

but it took forever to even get him into bed

you’ve been set to wed for quite a while, but he’s so focused on the war and everything else that he won’t pay you ANY attention

and you HATE it

so, when the wedding comes around, you specifically request a bedding ceremony, which pleases his mother after some hesitation

at first he weirdly hesitates in touching you, instead he commands you strip in front of him.

as your corset and gown drop, a sly smile comes to his face as he licks his lips at the sight of your figure

he’ll move over and run his fingers down your stomach and to your lower lips, rubbing in a circle

where he learned this? God knows, but it feels so good you can’t dwell

your legs turn to jelly as he slowly strips himself from his garb, smacking your hand away when you attempt to assist

he’ll lower you on the bed with one arm, kissing down your collar bone and chest, licking over your nipples

”You’re gorgeous,” he’ll whisper in a deep and lustful voice. “All of this is mine.”

he’ll then push inside you without warning, stilling and looking into your eyes forcefully, his eye patch still on

”Isn’t that right.” He’ll growl, thrusting unto you with slow and rough smacks of his waist to your inner thigh

”Come on, baby” he’ll coo, holding your hands down and smiling so sly

”say it.”

you swallow hard then can’t utter any words, it feels amazing, like you were made for this very moment

he slows to a stop and chuckles at your whimpers, shuffling ur hips

”Say. It.”

“I’m yours” you’ll whimper, his smile growing. “I’m yours and yours alone, Aemond.”

You reach up to take his eyepatch off and he flinches, catching you off guard

”I don’t want to scare you,” he suddenly says, making you flush and smile.

”You’re perfect, a scar couldn’t scare me.”

He hesitantly let’s you take off the patch, his sapphire eye now visible. You hold his face and kiss the scar, feeling him twitch inside you at such a gesture.

He starts moving in and out, panting and letting out low grunts but not loud enough for it to trail outside of the room

He’ll grow into a pounding, enjoying pulling your hair and flipping you around like you’re a play thing

He’d degrade you, mixing them with praises and leave red hand prints from smacking your ass and thighs

He’d go for about 2-3 rounds before finishing up inside, and making sure you finished as well.

He’ll then clean you up with extra cloth and even give your cunt a few licks, then kiss you and make you taste both of your juices and the love you made.

then, he’ll arrange a bath and take it with you, not caring to clean up the mess on the sheets, urging a servant to do it for him as he holds you close in the water and says nothing

just rubbing your thigh and kissing over your shoulder with relaxed breathing as you wash his hair and face with peppered kisses between each other

Jacerys

A top. For sure.

he definitely likes to take control after you think you are, another power trip but much gentler

hes also like Aemond with he doesn’t do anything sexual until the bedding ceremony

but not because he’s too busy for you, oh no he’s made SO much time for you

he just has fun doing romantics rather than sexual things with you

every day is a new adventure, you almost forget your desires

but once the bedding ceremony starts, he’s got his hands on you in ways you didn’t think were possible

of course, he starts off slow, taking you from your garb without any haste

he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, but doesn’t seem all that interested in your body

no, he loves that pretty face of yours

he loves the expressions it makes, the noises that come out of those beautiful parted lips

he loves it with so much of his being that he’ll do anything to see those faces

so, he picks you up with a heated kiss and places you against the wall, looking to you eagerly as his kisses trail down. He keeps you up with just those strong arms on your legs

he loves how surprised you get when he places your thighs on his shoulders

oh he definitely knows his way with his tongue too

he’ll know all the right places, looking up to you as his tongue dances on your cunt and inside

he smiles, you can feel it in those lower lips of yours, when you tilt your head back and say his name

he LOVES it when you say his full name

not Jace, but Jacerys

he removes himself just before you can finish, kissing you and making you taste yourself on his tongue

he’ll place you on the bed so gently, his hands feeling over your waist and a giddy grin spread on his face

”You’re all mine,” he’ll whisper, raising a brow. “I want you to remember that. My wife, the barer of my beautiful children.”

unlike Aemond, he sticks to praises and loving terms

”Love” “Beautiful” “Pretty” “My goddess”

and you definitely feel like a goddess

he doesn’t insert just yet, rubbing it on the base of your lower lips and slit

he teases you, but not in painful way

you softly beg him

he loves it, he loves when you speak. Your voice is like honey to him, he wants to eat it up and drown in that beautiful tongue of yours

”Since you asked so nicely, Princess” he’d tease, shoving inside of you before running still and gentle

he def moves his hand down to work the clit. No questions asked.

he’ll kiss you only a few times, not wanting to silence you

he’d work you well. Slow at first, then a steady rhythm. Not too fast, but not insanely slow

he’d leave marks on your chest, in places only he can see

and when you’re done, he’d bury deep inside and let it out

as for aftercare, he’d pick you up once he’s recovered and whisper about how amazing you did

he’d clean you up and see to it you’re bathed. He doesn’t mind being sweaty and heated, so he doesn’t get in the bath with you

no, he instead bathes you like a servant

he’s so gentle with his touch, it almost feels ludicrous

then, he dries you off and takes one last moment to admire your beauty

then, he dresses you. He doesn’t let you do it yourself

he has trouble with it at first, even if it’s just a night garb

But once he’s got you clothed, he’ll take you back to the bedroom and get the sheets changed before holding you close and drifting to sleep after you

Podrick

hear me out, a soft switch

he LIVES to please you

Definitely has mommy issues and a mommy kink

since he isn’t of royalty he’d probably act on his desires when you show interest

he’d definitely only do it when you want to, but that doesn’t stop his tempting gaze

he finds you gorgeous, eyeing you down and smirking slightly to himself as he thinks the nastiest thoughts of you

and oh you love it. So much.

When you finally admit your desires, he’ll ask if he can kiss you

he seems shy at first, gentle with his hands and movements

then, you show eagerness and desire. It drives him crazy

he’ll open your legs and work your cunt with his tongue

he loves. LOVES. When you scream and shake

he’ll pet your thighs and pump his tongue in and out at a steady pace while sucking on your folds and clit

he’d have to hold your legs down as you cum in his mouth, and he loves it

he’d try to get up and leave for a moment, but you stop him and plead for him to lose himself with you

he’s SO hesitant, but then strips from his clothes and gets on top of you

as he’s on top of you he’d softly go “Are you sure?” And wait patiently for your consent

when given, he’ll push in, and the sigh he lets out as his eyes roll back is mesmerizing

he’ll bite his lip, hard, and move slowly in and out, groaning and looking in your eyes, loving the sight of you

your faltering expression gives him confidence as he presses his hand on your clit and works it as he quickens his pace, making you roll your eyes back as well

he’d be too nervous to kiss you, just working you like he’s don’t this a million times over.

he’d cradle you after he busts outside, and finger you until you softly plea him to stop.

he’ll wipe you off and clean himself off, not thinking of bathing, just holding you close and not wanting to lose this moment.

he’ll leave soft marks on your shoulders and chest, obsessed with your breasts, and admire you with so much love

”I love you” he’ll whisper “I hope I can marry you soon.”

Bran

A bottom. I will not take criticism.

he doesn’t know where the clit is, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing. He’s just too inexperienced

When you first present the idea of exploration into sexual territory, he’s hesitant

he’ll look at you with a “me? You want to try with ME?”

When you insist that you want him, he’d flush and kind of pull away

when you ask why he’s so scared, he tells you “I’ve never tried anything like that before.” And then look at you, so lovingly and worrisome “I’m not even sure if *it* works.”

his eyes will widen when you say “There’s only one way to find out.” And he nods then verbalizes consent to trying.

He’s shaking as you help him lay comfortably on the bed, his eyes trailing you. He loves when you tease him.

you sit on his lap and roll your hips as your garb is stripped, and he eagerly reaches for you, but you stop him. He obeys, looking at you with pleading and innocent eyes

his eyes start on only your face, then his thoughts best him. He looks lower, eyeing your chest and sighing, a new hardness under his clothes. Then lower, and he lets out what almost sounds like a pitiful whimper

you’re flushed at his reactions, taking his hand as his gaze snaps to your face with a guilty look. You move his hand and guide it to your clit, where his breath hitches at the wetness below.

”Rub in circles, Bran,” you’ll whisper, watching as he swallows hard and licks his lips as he works you insanely well, surprising you. You whine and moan softly, his eyes blowing wide and his cheeks blood red.

he LOVVVES your noises holy shit

and he adores the way your breasts bounce as he pleases you

he would be fine doing this and only this the entire time, but is surprised when you move his fingers to your entrance and adjust them, then push them in.

he keeps them still, then you guide them in and out, his eyes going to your face as you sigh and groan. He moves faster, picking up the movement amazingly.

As you strip him from his clothes, he looks adorable while he’s flustered. Shuffling and eyeing your chest once more then your face.

he does NOT know where to look

you’ll reveal his cock, and it’s big. Much bigger than you expected on a man, it’s stands up straight and eager, twitching slightly. He looks HUMILIATED.

you reassure him, moving to his side and holding his head to your chest, he kisses over your breasts and groans, moving and licking over your nipples. He LOVVVVES this.

you jerk him off, seeing if he feels it. And oh he definitely does.

he grabs you, shuffling and moaning under his breath, it almost doesn’t make you wanna stop

but you steady to a stop and ride him, his eyes rolling back and his breathing heavy and uneven. He holds your waist, moaning your name over and over as you hold his arms and tilt your head back. He sits up all the way and kisses you

he loves how your lips taste, groaning against your mouth and even moving into a sloppy make out to muffle his pathetic whimpers.

he softly tells you he thinks he’s about to burst from the inside and you tell him it’s you being close to cumming. He doesn’t even think about it and without warning bursts inside of you.

hes definitely apologetic after the high wears down, but you shush him and cuddle close, not caring about a cleanup. You just want to be close to him, and he wants the same.

Robb

He’s a hard read, but I feel like he’d top you after being a bit unsure about his place in the bedroom

he’d definitely know where the clit is. I take no criticism.

he’d do it whenever you seem to show a lot of interest in it, and would sacrifice anything to keep you as his

he starts off slow, getting excited at just the sight of the garb sliding down your shoulders

his eyes are EVERYWHERE. At first, your face, in need to feel like he isn’t disrespecting you somehow, but once he sees your body he’s done for

he loves when you pull his hair, especially when you kiss him.

he’d finger you until you can’t function, smiling so wide at just the sight of your desires

he’d never push you into anything, just kissing down your body and leaving love bites all along your skin

he’s OBSESSED with the way your body follows his hands, and how you lean into him with such desire

he’s definitely a doggy style type of boy

dont get me wrong, he LOVES looking at your expressions, but he loves pulling your hair and seeing the way your back arches

he’d start off slow, rolling his hips in a gentle and easy rhythm, but when it’s not enough for you he hastily pounds you into the bed

he’ll bite. 100% he bites you and will whisper “Such a good girl, my pretty little thing… You’re all mine.” And would grip your ass, groaning softly in your ear

no hesitation or apologies, he cums inside and ENSURES you’re over your limit before he’s done

he’d take such good care of you. Washing you off, kissing the sore spots, massaging you, he’d even offer to give you some… “after treatment” with his mouth ;)

def eats you out after too, after he washes you off he goes for another round but only for your pleasure, letting your ride his face

he’ll then wipe you down and pepper you with kisses, dressing you and refusing to let you help

he’d then cuddle you so close, promising to love you forever and that he’d never let anyone hurt you, refusing to sleep until you’re sound asleep and he knows you’re safe.

#jacerys velaryon #jacerys targaryen #jacerys valeryon x reader #podrick payne #game of thrones #game of thrones headcanon #got #a song of ice and fire #tyrion lannister #sansa stark #house of the dragon #house lannister #house stark #house targeryen #aegon ii targaryen #prince aegon #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii #house of the dragon aemond #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond stannies #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x fem!reader #bran stark

[pinkykats-place]

Aemond Targaryen x Reader Insert Fics

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

The stories linked are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Mostly female readers.

Note: if you read and enjoy any of these stories - please like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

In the beginning

aemond x targaryen!reader, reader is rhaenyra and laenor second born child

Summary: in a final attempt to salvage the rift between your families, you suggest a marriage pact between you and and Alicent’s second son

Reunion

Aemond x Older Half-Sister!Reader

Summary: You reunite with your brother after the death of your husband.

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

aemond x female!tyrell!reader

Summary: Aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both.

warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism

Touch Starved Aemond

Summary: touch starved aemond aka aemond slowly falling in love with his betrothed by her gentle touches he was deprived of all his life

In the Eye of the Beholder

Summary: Compared to his elder brother, who abused the offerings on the Street of Silk, Aemond’s tastes have always been…tame. 

Can't help falling in love

Summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings

Secret Visits

aemond x female!targaryen!reader

Summary: you are aemond's little sister and he visits you in your room after dinner (smut)

To Have and to Hold

Aemond Targaryen x F!Velaryon (Strong)!Reader

Summary: Reader goes to Storm's End with her younger brother and instead of asking for Lucerys' eye, Aemond claims her as his wife.

"Muña"

Aemond x Older Sister!Reader

Summary: Aemond longs for you, Aegon's twin.

We Light The Way

Aemond x Hightower!Aunt!Reader

Summary: Aemond's beloved aunt returns to the Red Keep, and this time, he is determined to prove the depths of his devotion to her.

Deep Rivers Run Quiet

Aemond x Lannister!Reader

Summary: You have the reputation of being a spoiled young lady of House Lannister, but a certain one-eyed prince sees beyond that.

Ties That Bind

Aemond Targaryen X cousin!Reader

SUMMARY: After spending most of your childhood in the Red Keep, it’s hard to let go of the bonds you’ve formed even with war on the horizon.

The Woes of Betrothals

Synopsis: Recently betrothed, Prince Aemond is unsure on the virtues befitting that of a good husband. Ser Criston offers some surprisingly useful insight. 

Of Flowers & Dragons

Aemond x wife!Reader

Summary: Your daughter wants a sibling and makes it everyone’s problem.

mad blood stirring

Aemond x betrothed!f!Reader

(inspired by the scene in s1e5 where harwin rescues rhaenyra during the wedding feast)

Urgency (smut)

Aemond x afab!Reader

Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures

Mother Knows No Bounds

Aemond x wife!Reader

prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.

Little Dragon

Aemond x wife!Tully!Reader

synopsis ; he was your fire, and you were his sea, willing to push and pull the tides at his behest

Your beauty never scared me

Look after you

Summary: You were betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, and while the two of you got along well enough, you hardly behaved as man and wife. After you suffer a great loss, Aemond decides to change that. (Hurt/Comfort)

Not a child anymore

Prince Aemond Targaryen x older!fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You are Queen Alicent’s favourite young lady in waiting and Prince Aemond’s childhood friend. However, he is sick and tired of you viewing him as nothing but a child when he is a man now and he will not let anyone else have you.

Just A Touch

Aemond x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: During a ball made to celebrate the name day of King Viserys, Aemond falls in love with Daemon's first daughter, and he is eager to dance with her.

Gold Rush

Aemond x Lannister!Reader

Synopsis: Everybody wants you, and I don’t like a gold rush.

Pearl of The Realm

Aemond x newlywed!reader

Summary: Duty meant a lot of things to Aemond. But he had hoped that it would not mean marriage. And when the day comes for him to confront it, he finds with his new wife, small, naiive and innocent, that there is some pleasure to be found there also.

Mini Series: Castling

Aemond x twin!reader x Dameon

Warning! Very mature content

AU

"A Love Like War"

Ares!Aemond x Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Aemond, the God of War, does his best to woo you, the Goddess of Love, though obstacles meet you at every turn.

Pomegranate Seeds

Hades!Aemond x Persephone!Reader

Summary: a retelling of the abduction of Persephone

#reader insert recommendation #reader insert recommendations #house of the dragon #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #fanfic recommendation #tumblr recommendations #fic recs #song of ice and fire #reader insert #aemond x targaryen! reader #aemond x Hightower reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x ​velaryon reader #targaryen reader #game of thrones x reader #aemond targaryen x strong! reader #aemond targaryen x aunt reader #aemond targaryen x sister reader #aemond targaryen x tyrell! reader #aemond targaryen x hightower! reader #aemond targaryen x older sister reader #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #Lannister reader

[ichorai]

BROKEN MACHINE ; the series.

a series based on the album broken machine by nothing but thieves for our 6k milestone! fandoms included ; marvel, house of the dragon, the walking dead, the boys, game of thrones, and succession.

main masterlist. wasteland baby! series. dear science series. about me.

TRACKLIST.

ONE. i was just a kid ; (marc spector) 6.6k ↳ khonshu wanted you dead. marc just wanted you.

TWO. amsterdam ; (jacaerys velaryon) 4.7k ↳ prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.

THREE. sorry ; (daryl dixon) 7.9k ↳ you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

FOUR. broken machine ; (miles morales) 5.1k ↳ stuck in a time loop, miles had to witness the one thing that he dreaded the most in life over and over again: your death.

FIVE. live like animals ; (kimiko miyashiro) 1.0k ↳ you try and frenchie try to show kimiko how to have fun on a day off.

SIX. soda ; (aemond targaryen) 40.3k ↳ he flinched away when your fingers brushed against his eyepatch. despite this, you reached out once more to pull it off, your touch ever so gentle—and this time, he let you. you whispered that he was beautiful as your lips grazed against the marred skin of his cheek. aemond didn’t believe you, but he let you say it nonetheless.

SEVEN. i’m not made by design ; (jaime lannister) 47.8k ↳ wolves and lions tend not to be friends, much less lovers.

EIGHT. particles ; (peter parker) 2.8k ↳ tony gives peter the dreaded 'dad' talk.

NINE. get better ; (hobie brown) 5.5k ↳ electric guitars and strawberries, leather jackets and quilted skirts, city spiders and cottage spiders. the two of you were perfect for each other.

TEN. hell, yeah ; (roman roy) 91.5k+ ↳ pain was an old friend for the both of you.

ELEVEN. afterlife ; (yelena belova) 1.9k ↳ her sister was dead. she’d lost everyone she’d ever known. and she didn’t know you—at least not as well as she’d like to know her sister’s spouse, but yelena wanted to try. that was the least she could do.

TWELVE. reset me ; (wade wilson) 1.3k ↳ charles sends you to recruit deadpool into the x-men. expectedly, the bastard tries to weasel away from you—and when that doesn’t work, he resorts to his most lethal method: flirtation. that, and taping a kick me sign on your back.

THIRTEEN. number 13 ; (rhaenyra targaryen) 5.4k ↳ in another life, she could’ve been with you, she was sure. a life of bliss and a life not ruled by the laws of men.

#broken machine #back with my third milestone series :D #marvel fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #marc spector x reader #daryl dixon x reader #miles morales x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jaime lannister x reader #peter parker x reader #yelena belova x reader #wade wilson x reader #twd fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #sw fanfiction #got fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #jace velaryon x reader #kimiko miyashiro x reader #hobie brown x reader #roman roy x reader #succession fanfiction

[themotherofblood]

Dear author, you don't know how happy I am to see that your ad requests are open. That said can I get an extremely romantic, overwhelming, passionate and rough smut with Daemon x Martell fem reader inspired by the song "Ang laga de", please?

you have no fucking idea how happy this ask made me, like kicking my legs and smiling like a lunatic happy. I have envisioned this very smut scene at least a hundred times. It is a little dark, both Daemon and Y/N are kinda crazy in this. Madly in love, literally

masterlist

smut, talks of murder, blood, loss of virginity, oral (f), more blood, fingering and evil daemon being a softie.

Daemon Targaryen x fem!Martell Reader

“I refuse to be your mistress!”

That is the last thing you had said to your beloved dragon prince.

The Dornish were said to be a shameless lot regardless, and here you fell for a married man.

The Rhoynish gods were laughing at your stupidity, there wasn’t even a lure placed for you to catch. You simply fell for him, hard.

What had been a month long endeavour to see your younger sister wed a distant Targaryen cousin. Turned to your own nightmare. You had never craved for something as much as you had Daemon Targaryen. His flirtatious deeds, bringing your flowers and trinkets had bouncing like a little girl. It was frustrating, you had tried courting before and yet it felt flat, you truly believed that men simply were not capable of pleasing you. Until he came along, him and that stupid red dragon that made you want Daemon even more

He became the thing you wanted to cry to the gods about, the sweets yours parents wouldn’t let you have or that fine silk dress that was far too big for you to wear. His niece Rhaenyra, also egged this fire further and not once had either of them mentioned that he was married! It was painful, really fucking painful, learning that his loyalty was sworn to another.

You’d spent nights unable to sleep on foreign beds, awake in the royal gardens of the Red Keep, where the prince kept you company till the sun graced the horizon and you had succumbed to slumber with your head in his lap. There was serenity, shared comfort that dwelled between the two of you. You had heard stories, counted first hand of the nights he’d spend in brothels with his whores. You didn’t care, you wanted him.

“I refuse to be your mistress.”

It was a lie, you would happily become his salacious secret should he have asked a second time. There was no dignity, no obligations or customs, to you there was just him and the one truth that boiled your blood hot. You had already given him a piece of you heart as you boarded the ship to return home. You wanted him to ask again, to whisk you away on his dragon and yet he allowed you the curtesy to return home with your honour intact.

“If there is anything the crown can provide for Dorne, do not hesitate.” Viserys coughed his words out as he presented his farewells to you in a crowded court

“Should I ask, you wouldn’t be able to provide it your grace.” You wandered, keeping your head low in respect for the man and your wants

“What is it that a king cannot provide,” Otto Hightower questioned, taking offence to your wording.

“Daemon Targaryen.” You stated, gasps echoed across the throne room. You had committed a crime, stained your honour for good. You didn’t care nor did you give Daemon a last look before boarding your ship.

Honour- what was it compared to feel of being in his arms? What was devotion if not sound of his voice relaying Valyrian poetry? What was love, if not your heart that drowned in his blood?

What was love- if not the letter of his wife’s untimely injury?

Rhea Royce, bedridden of her paralysis, remained frozen and useless to her husband.

There was much that Daemon Targaryen was capable of, much that you were capable of. The sheer fire that burned your passions would have soaked your own hands in Rhae Royce’s blood.

She didn’t love him.

You did.

Then came your brother, his stupid alliance and vengeance against the Targaryen’s was costing you your sanity, you had pleaded with him for weeks and then you succumbed to the insanity that perhaps there was venom in your heart for whoever kept you from your dragon prince.

It festered for days, the mirrors in your room painted with clay. Refusing to look at yourself until he laid eyes upon you as his wife.

You had sat at supper with your brother, his disappointment was clear. You wanted to lay with the enemy, if loving Daemon was treachery then you would happily lay your hands forwards retribution. There should have been sorrow, a searing burn of guilt- he was your family, your blood. You shared a cradle and a mother; nothing more. Your sweet brother, for now was thorn digging into your palm as you admired the flourishing bud of devotion. He had to be plucked out.

The forbidden subject was brought up once more, there wasn’t a request in sight but a demand from his brazen sister.

“Let me be his, let him have me.” A prayer, Qoren grew irate over your insolent behaviour.

He loved you dearly, his sweet sister who was blinded by the rage of love. He wouldn't allow it, claiming to chain you to your chamber if you made an attempt to contact him. You said nothing as you nibbled on your food, spatters of blood dripped onto your pie. You could feel your throat constricting and yet it was nothing compared to the agony you had been in without Daemon.

Qoren coughed profusely, blood dripping from his nose as his eyes widened at your betrayal. In truth he had betrayed you first, choosing to keep you away from the one thing you had ever truly wanted. You could taste the copper on your lips, corners of your eyes welling with tears as you ripped the small pendant from your neck; even with the antidote to the poison in your system. The despair never stopped.

An unpleasant event truly, yet what was anyone to do, Qoren had no heirs and your blood-bled mustard. In the true picture of your house’s words, you remained unbent; raging on in sheer will for one man.

Even tainted in blood, you wore white for him; to remain pure, awaiting him to paint you in the colours of his house

He will return for me, for my love

There was no assurance that he would fly to you, no evidence that Rhae Royce’s accident wasn’t a mere coincidence; yet your arrogance had you rubbing rose oil onto your skin.

My dragon would return to me, you were sure of it.

For days the men sworn to the Martells had sighted the skies day and night, all in hopes of seeing a red dragon looming over the palace. The very ladies that had dressed you since you were a child urged for you to see reason, men often toyed with naive noble ladies for their amusement. He hadn't toyed with you, you were his cherished doll, one he stole because he simply could.

“Princess,” A young squire heaved, a folded parchment in between his fingers. Sealed with a three-headed dragon.

Your wish was my command princess.

Even without a name, the curls on his lettering were indicative enough an answer for you.

He had indeed harmed Rhea Royce for you, just as you had killed your brother Qoren for him. In your heart, you knew he would find you soon; just as your orders for exotic flowers and wines were distributed to merchants, people in your household began to whisper of your delusions.

Then the black skies graced your hopes, almost taunting all those who questioned your faith in him. The moon, full as is lit the ocean in its milky glow, from those very black skies came your faith. Loud whistles of a dragon echoed through Old Palace. Yet another young squire mumbled out in laboured breaths.

You smiled to yourself as your ladies sat in silent shock, their efforts in dressing you in white and gold would bear fruit tonight. Their feet sprung to action, the jangles from their anklets were muffled in your ears, and you just smiled to yourself. You hiked you skirts up as you skipped down the corridor, the jangles on your gold anklets seemed to have been cursing everybody who questioned you.

The doors to the Old Palace opened as Daemon Targaryen rode in on horseback, and along with him came a small entourage. He sat tall atop his horse, finally a Targaryen worthy of conquering Dorne. You were sure your ancestors were screaming bloody murder, shunning you and wishing you ill will, and yet as you stood at the enterance of the Old Palace, your father’s name meant nothing infront of the man you loved.

“In a bustling court you asked for me, may all see; I have arrived.” Daemon proclaimed as he stood with his arms out. You feet hurried down the steps, hoping to grace him with an eternal embrace and yet he raised his hand to stop you dead in your tracks

“I applaud you, for a devotion even I was unknown to. You stripped yourself bare of your honour and dignity for a relationship you had no right over.” He retorted, you couldn’t understand was her perturbed? Is that what he was here for, to lecture you?

“What reasoning do you have for this madness?”

“Love.” You stated, even the word in itself felt lacking for the true tempest that swirled in your environs. It had to be bigger, all consuming.

“The one revolts against the mightiest of dragons, that love,” You walked towards him “The one that fearlessly professes her devotion at court, that love.”

“When she sees her beloved and forgets her family, that love.” You eyes glossed over, consuming your skin in wild fire, begging him to claim you already

His hands harshly grasped your forearms, shaking sense into your as he spoke.

“The Faith and my brother’s court will never see you as one of theirs,” He warned.

“I accept.” You smiled.

“Marrying me would have you walking on fire!” He reasoned, hoping you would back away; a flower far to delicate for him to touch. He would give his life for you to not wither.

“I accept.” You nodded.

“I have a wife, Rhea.” He grimaced at the thought of his bronze bitch “I shall never be able to provide you the title of my first wife.” His hand trailed up to hold your cheek, stroking away the moisture that had looked below your eyes.

“Taking my name as yours will bring nothing but notoriety.” He kissed you cheek.

“I accept.”

“Then let it be known, the world would remember us as one,” He moved backwards gesturing towards the priest in his entourage.

“The Watergardens,” You stated, gesturing your servants to lead the priest to the location.

Daemon had allowed you moments alone, your household torn over what was happening. While many sighed in relief, perhaps you would finally eat; let life make your skin glow yet again. The storm gave away and your lamp was still burning bright. He presented you with a head piece made of khaki cloth, amber and rubies with stray pieces of shells. You handmaidens were quick with it, pinning it onto your hair as Daemon made his arrangements. Caraxes looked over the Watergardens, whistling just as ecstatically as his rider as he perched himself on the beach mount.

The universe seemed to have been in agreement of your emotions, the wind on the beach picked up; cooling your overwhelmed and hot skin. The skies were clear, twinkling in stars and the full moon as the complimented the low tided waves crashing ashore. Your own servants had been quick, decorating the gardens with yellow and red candles and exotic Bravosi flower arrangements placed on vases. Daemon awaited you by the shore line.

Your hands held a dhanuchi, clay burners that held sizzling coal pieces accompanied with sandalwood. You hiked your skirts up, walking towards Daemon, counting your steps as your bare feet hit the sand, you were trying your hardest to breathe; he stood their awaiting you looking as galant as the day he received you at the Blackwater ports, it was from that day you knew your fate would be painted black in his name.

Daemon turned, toying with a black obsidian dagger as his eyes softened the second he saw you. He held his hand out for you take as you stopped next to him, placing the dhanuchi at the alter.

“This will hurt,” He whispered, gesturing to the dragon glass daggers. You shook your head, no pain would compare to the three moons you had spent without him. He lifted the edge against your bottom lip, drawing blood as he gently slashed a cut, he guided your hands to do the same. The taste of copper filled your mouth, a stinging sensation ran through your lips; one you knew would only soothe once you felt his lips on yours.

Blood of two, joined as one

You cut a gash on your palm, wincing as blood trickled to the surface; Daemon did the same with his before grasping your bloodied palm within his. The priest wrapped a silk across your palms, your lover’s lilac eyes held concern for your pains and yet wild adoration. You were to be his. Blood began to trickle into the cup of wine placed under you as the priest continued.

Ghostly flame and a song of shadows

Daemon marked your forehead with his blood, you followed his lead as the priest instructed the symbol you drew, he then offered you the cup of wine laced with your blood. You eyes never once left Daemon’s as you sipped on the strong wine before giving him the cup to do the same.

Two hearts as embers, forged in the fourteen fires

His hands came to rest at your cheek, both growing restless of the vows as he wiped the dripping blood from your lips.

A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness.

You pulled yourself closer to him, one might say you were dazed from the blood loss, in truth it was Daemon’s lilac eyes, how his hands caressed your skin. The wanting fires that engulfed the alter seeming leave everything in ashes but the two of you.

The vows spoken through time, of light and darkness.

He whispered along with the priest.

There was no shame in the way your lips crashed against one another, you tasted his blood on your tongue and yet his hands scorched your skin, almost consuming your body whole as his hands wandered everywhere as his lips claimed you. A stray tear fell from your eyes as your held onto his face, letting his tongue explore yours. You couldn’t breathe from the passion of it all, not that you cared; you life was now his to do with as he pleased.

You rested on Daemon’s lap as he lounged on your window bed, working a healers poultice on the cut of his palm, still lingering in the after effects of wedding. His hands gently returned the favour as he wrapped yours in gauze, you prayed that it would scar; it was a testament for your devotion.

“There- all fixed sweet wife.” Daemon whispered, nudging his nose against your cheek. Heat immediately rose to you cheek as you looked away, you were his wife.

You shuffled off of him, you walked to the steaming dhanuchi that you had carried back to your bed chambers, you bed chambers smelled sweet from it aroma. You had lit in hopes of being blessed by the fertitly goddess, that your marriage remaind pure and secure for eternity. You pushed you skirts always as you climbed onto your bed, letting the steam grace and bless your bed with your unconditional wish.

You dropped the burner on the floor after, letting it submerge the room in its sweet smoke. You awaited your husband as he rid himself of his tunic, you shuffled closer as you sat on your knees. Admiring his toned body and taking account for every battle scar on his skin that you would spend the rest of your life healing with your love.

“Will- will you bed me now, husband?” You whispered, your lips dangerously closer to his, begging for another kiss.

“Oh, I plan to do more than just bedding you.” His lips moulded against yours once more as his hands tugged on the ties of your blouse.

“I conquer Dorne tonight,” He teased, peppering kisses to your temple down to you cheek. He pushed you back on the bed, almost immediately pouncing on top.

He grasped your wrists with one hand, pushing them above your head as he laid siege upon your neck. Laying warm- wet kisses and bruising nips at your neck; his hair tickling at your bare skin as your squirmed underneath him. There was no reasoning to the gentle throb that began pulsing at your core- you rubbed your thigh closer to make it halt. He pushed aside your unlaced blouse, your chest heaved as he suckled on your breast, pulling and licking the hardening pebble in his mouth.

You back arched if the bed, pushing your chest into his mouth, small open mouthed gasps left your mouth as his fingers danced past your navel; yanking on the fastening strings of skirts. His hands pushing your skirts and small clothes down at once, unwrapping you like present as your laid in his ordered positioning.

You succumbed to your exposure, you moved your head in shame, opting to look out at the glaring moon as it witnessed your de-flowerinng. Daemon took offence to your actions, using his fingers to guide your chin towards him as he groaned in disapproval.

“Three moons apart and you dare look away from me?” Daemon cocked his brow at you, freeing your hands as he ventured lower on your body.

“I- forgive me, my prince.” You whispered, your lungs refraining you from speaking any louder

“Husband,” He corrected as he pushed you legs apart.

“Husband.” You mewled in shame as his fingers stroked your folds that looked by the minute. His lips latched onto your inner left thigh, sucking and nipping at the skin.

All the while his eyes remained devious yet absurdly comforting, the two fingers that drew circles on your thighs or a small groans he left against your skin, indicative of how much he was truly enjoying himself. Just for his own satisfaction he marked your thighs at several spots, leaving darkening marks for you to reminisce over in the coming fortnight.

You felt intoxicated, revelling in the way his tongue wet your outer folds before indulging in the saccharine delight that was your cunt, a shameless moan echoed through your bed chambers as you felt his tongue flicking at a much sensitive spot. He moaned against your mound the second your taste hit his tongue.

His palm, large enough to lay flat over your soft belly to hold you flush a against the bed as he took his liberties, lapping at your like his last meal had been consumed days before. His eyes bore into yours, his own demeanour turning to command, strumming the pleasures of your body to his own rhythm.

“Such a sweet delight,” He complimented, mostly to distract you from his finger easing into your tightness. You immediately clenched down on the intrusion. “This shall ease the discomfort.” He elaborated before spitting onto your folds

Your head fell backwards in shame, focusing on the comforting caresses in your torso as Daemon plunged his finger in knuckle deep. You couldn't take the prolonging tasks no longer. You whined, pawing at Daemon’s trousers.

“Please, please have me already.” You begged, you wanted to feel him within you. You could careless of the pain or discomfort, you just wanted to be one

“Take them off,” He instructed, your hands immediately worked on unbuttoning his pants, before digging your fingers into her rear to pull them down. His cock- that thing hung pliant between his legs. Part of you looked up at him curiously, and the other half wondered how your envious would engulf such a monstrosity. Your eyes silently asked for permission, to which Daemon simply stroked your hair as your wrapped your hand around the warm appendage. You were unsure of what to do.

“Stroke it, gently.” He guided you as you followed, feeling his cock twitch in your hands as you moved your hands back and forth. His tip soon glistened in moisture leaking from within. All Daemon could think of were your sweet lips wrapped around his cock and yet there was an eternity to teach you of the pleasures of the flesh. “Good girl,” He cooed.

He urged you to lay back against the pillows, working his length to harden to its full potential. He hesitated, having taken many maiden heads before, he needed this to be delicate as he tore through yours. He circled his tip at your sensitive rose bud before pushing at your entrance. You gasped out loud, letting you arms wrap around his shoulders as he inched forwards.

The stretch of his efforts shot a stinging sche through your pelvis, and he halted. Kissing your cheek and cooing at you in an attempt to alleviate even a fraction of the discomfort you were in. He advanced all the way in, hoping to let your ride out the waves of pain; you cried out louder and yet there was a little more left to go

“Look at me, just me. I shall make it better.” He groaned, hoping to suppress his own pleasures that coursed through his body, your tightness strangling his cock with threats of nearly milking him dry before anything had even begun. He felt selfish for feeling bliss as you silently wept underneath him, he caressed your cheek, the thing he held onto as his lips kissed your face. Peppering kisses to your forehead and your lips, over and over again as he inched forward

“Dae-” You shrieked as he finally bottomed out within you, the pressure of the stretch making your eyes well in more tears. You pulled yourself closer to him, trying to muffle your weeps on the crook of his neck. His arm reaches under you to support your neck. His deeper voice whispered encouragements as he awaited you to adjust to the pain.

“Look at how well you take me,” He whispered in between kisses that he pressed in your temples “Made just for me, aren't you? My sweet little wife.”

“Just for you,” You sniffled, letting yourself rest back against the pillows.

There was a humiliating familiarity in the way your aches encouraged your actions, you shuffled underneath him. Hoping to get him to move and yet he solely focused on doting on your body.

“Husband-” You whimpered, making his eyes shoot to you as they were focused on where the two of you were connected just moments before. He hummed in acknowledgement

“Can you- um please.” You stuttered, almost frustrated at yourself for losing your wording this easy.

“You have to tell me sweet wife, show me what you need.” He asked, urging his will into your answer.

“Please move- I need you to move.” You requested, he smiled before angling his hips backwards; hissing wantonly in the process and you mewled under him. There was pain within the first few thrusts and yet the deranged tendencies of your blood milked pleasure from the pain that subsided to a subtle pressure in your belly.

Daemon lost his composure, uttering vulgarities in your ear; the most obscene of sentences paired with the sweets of names he had picked for you.

“Perfect little hole, taking me so well,” He’d compliment one minute.

“Should have fucked this cunt the first day I laid eyes on you sweet girl,” The next he’d complain of the things he’d regretted.

He held your jaw, a feral smirk adoring his lips as he took your apart, your bangles clicking as your body bounced with his determined thrusts.

“Daemon!” You shrieked, such hurtful pleasure causing you to bed for such sinful things

“Just like that, scream your husband’s name.” He grunted, “Let all of Dorne know who owns this pretty body. Go on tell me.”

“You do, you do.” Cries poured from your lips as you held onto his forearms. “My Daemon,” You moaned as pulled yourself up to kiss his lips.

“Yes, yes sweet girl. All yours.” His deviant smile widened. Your cunt began to flutter around him, such flattery could mean just one thing as Daemon pushed his pelvis against yours, his thrusts grinding at your nub.

“That’s it, just lay there and take my seed,” He growled, his playing again harshly grasping your jaw to make you look at him.

“Dae- Daemon!” The ever impending storm began to paw at your insides,

Not long now- “I want it, I want babes and so much more. Please, please.” You begged to hope that itch would finally give way, and so it did. With no warning and only a scream of your husband’s name, your body erupted in ecstasy.

Daemon groaned out loud, muttering praises of your name, good girl, his sweet girl. Yes, you were. All for him as you loomed on a cloud perched high above the ground, you only registered Daemon’s thrusts faltering and warm filling your core, and then you felt Daemon’s caresses on your skin as you coaxed your heaving body to stability.

“Still with me?” He whispered against your hair and all you could muster was a lazy nod against his chest. You hissed feeling his cock leave your opening, he pushed you through it all. Letting his body weight do the work for you as he pulled himself to sit up along with you.

You finally opened your eyes, blinking away stray tears as he wiped at the trails of moisture on your cheeks. He bundled your exhausted body against his as he lifted you off your bed, walking you along to your chaise before wrapping a spare blanket against both your bodies, almost rocking your vulnerable body to a humming under his breath.

Maids poured into the clear martial bed, they all frowned at the image of their beloved Lady Martell curled against a dragon without a care as you nuzzled against him. Daemon snapped his fingers at them as they began to carry the bloodied sheets away, gesturing to the corner of the room for them to leave it behind. He planned to gift it to his brother’s council, as a warning.

There was nothing anybody could refuse Daemon Targaryen from- that and that he had a new wife. A wife of his choice, a wife he intended on loving until his death bed.

#daemon targaryen x martell reader #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #desiblr #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #tywin lannister x reader #spotify #got x reader #aemondtargaryenxreader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x lucerys #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #hotd aemond #daemon targeryan #daemon fic #prince daemon targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon smut #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond x helaena #aemond fanfiction

[devilsjacket]

Aemond: Have you ever rode a dragon before Y/n?

Y/n, being the cocky Lannister he is: no but you’ve definitely rode a lion before

Aegon, sounding amazed: YOU RODE A LION?!

Aegon: oh wait-

Aemond: stop making sex jokes in front of my brother.

#male reader #male y/n #x male reader #male yn #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x male reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x male reader #aegon targaryen #male lannister reader #lannister!reader

[aelenavelaryon]

If you guys are interested in Game Of Thrones or House Of The Dragons short stories I have writing a few on Wattpad. I’m thinking of sharing them here as well. I hope you guys can check them out and enjoy them too!

#house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #game of thrones x reader #jaime lannister #rhaegar targaryen

[jaimeslanisters]

the pawn in every lover's game (part eleven)

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

When you’re ten, your father sends you to King's Landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. A lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 6.4k chapter warning: some discussion of sexual acts, a lowkey innocence kink notes: this fic also moonlights as a love letter to helaena

Viserys Targaryen is dying.

As you stand behind Helaena, watching as she kneels at her father’s bedside to speak to him, the Queen standing next to her, wringing her hands, you realize it’s nothing short of a miracle that the man is still alive. He looks skinny, far skinnier than you ever remember him looking like back when you were a child, and his skin has taken on a gray and pallid hue, more corpse than a living man. He’s rotting as he lays here, decaying before he even passes, and you note with a grim sense of satisfaction that it’s the bare minimum he deserves for what he’s done to his children.

You hope he’s in there still, behind the haze of milk of the poppy dulling his pain and senses. You hope he’s trapped within his own body with nothing but his regrets to keep him company.

The King is dying and you wish he were dying sooner.

The smell of the medicines that the maesters must be pouring into him to keep him alive is strong, unbearably so, and you can feel your nose twitch as you fight to keep your face neutral against the sting. Whenever you finally get to leave, you know that the scent will follow you, will linger on your clothes like a stain that’s too stubborn to be scrubbed off. At your side, Ser Harrold Westerling faces away from the King and his family, the ever-watchful sentinel, and you wonder how he does this day after day. Only a few moments have passed since you entered the royal bedchambers and already, you’re desperate to get out. Perhaps he’s grown used to the awful smell. Perhaps he’s as familiar with the stench of death as you are with the old dusty smell of the library or the sweet floral aroma of the gardens.

“My love,” Alicent murmurs, reaching out to brush a thin piece of hair away from the King’s face. He doesn’t react, doesn’t shift to seek out her touch, or flinch away. He’s a statue, perfectly still, and only the labored movement of his chest tells you that he’s alive. “Helaena is here. It’s her last day as a maiden and she wants your blessing for the wedding tomorrow.”

Helaena looks at her mother nervously before her gaze shifts to look at you. You smile the best that you can, nodding your head to encourage her, and, after a deep breath, she focuses her attention back on her father. Even from your spot, you can see how her hands tremble slightly as she rests them on the bed, her fingers curling into the thick covers to give herself something to cling to. “I… I wanted to thank you, Father, for allowing me this opportunity to bring our House honor through continuing Valyrian traditions. Aegon and I… Aegon and I will bring you pride, Father. We will. I promise.”

He doesn’t deserve it, you want to assure her. You’ve given him enough. You have nothing more to give to him. Not when he doesn’t deserve even your kind words.

After she finishes speaking, Helaena looks like she has more she wants to say but, after a long drawn-out moment where the only sounds are the rattling breath of a dying king, she shakes her head and rises to her feet. She stands, her silver hair a pale flame in the darkened chambers next to her mother’s blazing red hair, and looks over to the Queen, plainly waiting for instruction on what to do next.

Alicent sighs, her hand gently smoothing over the little hair that Viserys has left, and her eyes flicker down to her husband. From here, you can see the way her mouth turns downward, how her eyes stare down at the King with open pain and distress.

You curl your fists at your side, digging your nails deep into your palm, just so you can anchor yourself to something.

“Husband,” Alicent tries again, valiantly trying to steady her voice but, in the silence of the room, you can plainly hear the slightly higher pitch, the more pleading tone. She’s begging Viserys to care, to acknowledge Helaena, and you wonder if you’ve ever hated anyone more. Erren and Victor Florent had made the valiant attempt to supplant the king from that dubious honor but you know that, if the Stranger asked you if you would trade Victor’s death for that of Viserys Targaryen, you would take that deal in an instant. For Helaena, for Aemond, and for Daeron and Aegon too. “Your daughter is here. She’s here for her final maiden day, my love. Don’t you have anything you wish to say to her?”

There’s silence, dead awful silence, but then the king shifts in his bed, a low groan leaving his body, as he feebly pushes himself up slightly, craning his head to stare out at his wife and daughter at his side. You watch as Helaena’s face hesitantly brightens with something resembling hope, how Alicent twists her frown into a cautious and encouraging smile, and fear suddenly grips your heart as you realize all at once why the old king had moved.

No, you think wildly, wishing you could reach out to shield them and silence the King in one quick motion. Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.

But Viserys didn’t do what you had wanted him to do in Driftmark and he certainly wouldn’t do it here.

“Rhaenyra?” Viserys asks, his voice weak and shaky as if each word is fighting and clawing its way out of his chest. “Rhaenyra is here?”

The king could only have done more damage if he had struck his wife and daughter across the face as he uttered that name. As it were, the Queen flinches back as she has been slapped, her brown eyes wide in distress and betrayal as she stares down at her husband, as she looks at the man she had vowed to love and protect and cherish ignore the daughter she had given him.

But Helaena… Helaena only closes her eyes, tilting her head down for a moment as if she’s trying to find balance again, squeezing her hands so tightly together that her already pale knuckles grow even whiter. When she looks up again, there is no heartache or disappointment written on her face. No pain. No anger.

There is only resignation.

You don’t even think - you step forward, suddenly desperate to reach out to Helaena, to brush your hand against her sleeve to assure her that you’re here and that you’re here for her, not for some rotting old king that would get what was coming for him in this life or the next. The moment your heel touches the ground, however, Viserys lets out another rattling breath and his pale eyes, dull and lifeless and so far removed from the bright eyes of all his children, swing to look at you.

He’s hopeful, that much is plain. He’s looking at you but he doesn’t see you and you can recognize the exact moment he realizes that you’re not Rhaenyra or anyone resembling anything close to Rhaenyra. Viserys looks at you for a moment longer, so plainly baffled by your presence, and indignation rises up in you.

You’ve been at Helaena’s side for nearly the majority of your life. You’ve been her loyal companion. You’ve been Aemond’s. For years, you’ve stood at their sides, as determined and loyal as any kingsguard.

And there’s no flicker of recognition in his eyes. Not when he looks at you. Not when he looks at Helaena.

For a moment, you let your mask slip. For half a second, you let all the rage and frustration and hatred slip onto your face as you glower at Viserys Targaryen, feeling as if you could reach out and choke him as easily as you could draw your next breath. For half a second, you imagine how lovely it would be to become a kingslayer, how easy. For half a second, you imagine how beautiful it would be for Viserys Targaryen to die knowing it’s because of his own actions, his own inactions.

It’s only for a moment but it’s a glorious moment.

Your mask comes back easily and you continue forward, moving to Helaena’s side, your face as pleasant as usual. The Queen is too busy staring down at the king, too busy facing yet another failure of her husband, but the princess is watching you. She had seen your control slip and, when you move to stand next to her, you look up to meet her eyes.

And she smiles.

Beautiful, sweet, and kind Helaena smiles and you know without a doubt, if she were to ask you to become a kingslayer for her, you would do it with nary a complaint. Quietly, you reach out to gently graze her sleeve, and, quick as can be, Helaena snatches your hand, squeezing it tight.

“Rhaenyra,” Viserys calls, feebly, and, reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from Helaena to stare down at him. He’s staring at Helaena, pale purple eyes pleading up at his daughter. “Rhaenyra, my girl, have you come to read to me? Have you and Alicent come to read?”

You glance over at Helaena but she’s already looking down at her father. Her face is clear, a perfectly blank expression, and your heart aches at the sight of it. “I’m not sure if I’ll have time to. We have to go to the royal sept, Father,” she says after a moment, clearly forcing the words out as calmly as she can.

“Can wait,” Viserys manages to croak out, his voice growing weaker and weaker as whatever little strength had possessed him to speak leaves his body. “Please. Alicent. Wait.” You look back at the King, expecting to see him gazing at his wife, but instead, his eyes are trained on you and you startle at the unexpected eye contact.

“Me?” You manage out after a moment, completely caught off guard. You’ve lived in the Red Keep since you were ten and not once has anyone ever compared you to the Queen. You were the walking copy of Lady Johanna Lannister and Johanna was as far from Alicent Hightower as was possible. Baffled, you snap your gaze towards the Queen, as if she could explain her husband’s delusion, only she’s already looking at you.

Her eyes aren’t anywhere near your face, however. She’s not looking over your dress in case you’ve accidentally worn something that resembled something she wore once in her childhood. No, she’s staring at your hand, wrapped around Helaena’s, and for a moment, you can’t imagine how that would cause more pain to spring up on her face than her husband’s mistake had.

It hits you all at once.

She used to be Princess Rhaenyra’s childhood companion, you realize, watching the Queen with pity blooming in your chest. His mistake has nothing to do with any resemblances he’s deluded himself into seeing. It’s about who I am to his daughter. Who she was to Rhaenyra.

You’ve never seen the Queen quite so off-kilter like this. Even on Driftmark, her heartbreak and anger had blazed more brightly than… this. That had been righteous fury, tempered by the shock and agony of failure. This was defeat and regret. She was deflated and lost, a little girl in all but appearance, so far removed from the Queen you’ve grown accustomed to after years and years spent in her company.

Even Helaena has noticed her mother’s distress, looking away from her father to stare at her mother. Nervous and hesitant, she reaches out with her free hand, gripping one of Alicent’s sleeves gently and tugging.

“Mother,” she whispers, sounding just like she had when you were both little girls, and just like that, the trance Alicent had entered is broken. The Queen reels back, brown eyes wide as she stares at you and Helaena, looking at your faces now. She’s breathing quickly as if she’s just risen up from the depths and is finally catching her first breath of fresh air after eons of holding her breath. “Mother, are you…”

Alicent shakes her head immediately, visibly rattled. “We should head to the sept, my sweet,” she quickly says, plastering a plainly fake smile on her face. “There are quite a few ceremonies you girls will need to perform today and I’m sure the septas would appreciate all the extra time you can afford to give them.”

The pair of you stare back at her, stunned by her fast turnaround before you find your voice. “Of course, Your Grace,” you say, bowing your head slightly.

After a moment, Helaena echoes your words and, hurriedly, Alicent rushes the pair of you out, the three of you quietly whispering your thanks to Ser Harrold as you pass.

None of you bow to Viserys when you leave.

——————————–

You’ve never been too fond of the royal sept. There’s nothing wrong with it in particular - it is a beautiful sept, one fit for the seat of the royal family, but whenever you were in it, you only ever felt longing for Casterly Rock. At your ancestral home, your mother, while not pious by any stretch of the imagination, would always make sure that you and your sisters would keep up appearances by performing the appropriate amount of prayers and songs in front of the statues of the Seven. It didn’t happen too often - usually only two or three times in a sennight - but it was a frequent enough occasion that the incense the septas burned immediately launch you back to Casterly Rock’s sept.

To be sure, the royal sept was larger and grander with beautiful stained windows filling the main statuary room with copious amounts of light. The sept at Casterly Rock was practically claustrophobic by comparison. Set deep within the Rock itself, it was windowless with only candles providing light but it had never seemed dark, not even when the candles were dwindling to nubs. In true Lannister fashion, nearly everything in the sept was golden - from the floors you and your sisters kneeled on to pray to the statues of the Seven you had prayed to. With no windows and only small vents carved into the walls for air circulation, the smell of incense was near unbearable. As a little girl, it had been the least favorite of your chores by far and you had often complained to Cerelle and Tyshara under your breath about how badly your eyes and nose ached after even a few seconds inside the sept, giggling whenever your mother or your septa had scolded the three of you for not focusing on prayer.

The air in the royal sept, in comparison, was fresh - as fresh as King’s Landing air could get - and the incense smell was low, far more manageable than it was at Casterly Rock. When the septa leads you and Helaena to stand before the statue of the Maiden, you find you almost miss the ache. The ache meant you were at Casterly Rock. It meant you had your sisters and your mother near.

One has left and another will leave the Rock soon enough you think to yourself, moving through the mechanics of kneeling before the statue on instinct. Soon, all of us will leave the Rock and only little Loren will remain.

It’s a discomforting thought to have to picture the Rock without Cerelle managing the household, without Tyshara entertaining Jeyne and Joy with you, and you quickly banish it from your mind, forcing yourself to refocus on what the septa was explaining to you.

Almost predictably, however, the septa leaves as soon as you decide to actually listen to her and, as you watch her leave with a twinge of regret, Helaena leans in close to your ear, ignoring the way you jump slightly when you notice how close she is. “Did you catch anything she said?”

You cough to cover up your laugh and someone in the spacious chamber shushes you. Helaena almost immediately bursts into giggles, throwing her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to muffle it, and you grin, biting your cheek so you don’t start laughing again.

“Missed every single thing,” you promptly confess when she finally slows her giggles, gently knocking her with your shoulder to tease her when that statement makes her dissolve into another laughing fit.

Eventually, she calms, shaking her head while she looks around the sept curiously. There are only a few other septas, most of them tending to the Father and Mother statues as they gently clean them with rags. A lone septon stands in front of the Crone, head bowed as he swings a thurible gently in front of him, the smoke lazily making its way up to the statue of the wizened old lady.

“Did she say when she was supposed to return for us?” You ask, watching the septon finish his prayer and slowly move around the circle of the Seven to the statue of the Smith, swinging the thurible as he goes.

Helaena shakes her head. “I think soon. We still have to bathe, don’t we?”

You tilt your head in thought, trying to recall everything your childhood septas had explained to you about your future wedding days. A bride’s last day as a maiden was spent in prayer and recitation, usually with her chosen maiden companion at her side, and, if your vague recollections of your lessons were to be trusted, at some point, the two of you would be sent to a large bathing room where septas would wash the pair of you while reciting prayers for fertility and health. From there, it would be more prayer until you finally got to leave the sept to attend a dinner with Helaena’s family.

Attend a dinner. Not eat a dinner. Like for Maiden’s Day, the pair of you would have to fast until the next morning, and sit a dinner, surrounded by everyone eating around you, to symbolize the strength and willpower the maidens must have in order to remain pure until their wedding days.

Typically, the dinner that you wouldn’t eat was held with the bride’s family with the groom eating someplace else with his own family except you weren’t entirely sure what the protocol would be seeing as the groom was the bride’s family here. Would Aegon eat with you two? Would the family be split down the middle with some dining with him and the rest with Helaena?

You sigh, deciding that it didn’t matter now. “Yes. Your mother should be joining us after the bath, I believe, but you know… It doesn’t seem very fair that we have to spend all day in the sept while the princes get to watch the archery event. They still have roles to play tomorrow.”

Helaena shrugs helplessly, reaching towards the basket of flowers placed at the Maiden’s feet and running her fingers absentmindedly through the loose petals. “Aemond is the Warrior. It makes sense for him to be there at the tourney, I suppose.”

You resist the urge to snort. “And Daeron is meant to be the Smith, isn’t he? I don’t suppose he’ll be spending the day in the forge or will he?”

“Being the Maiden isn’t all bad,” Helaena replies, giving you a small smile. “No one can bother us right now, at least.”

Something in you softens at her expression and you smile back easily, nodding. “Of course, Helaena. I’m not complaining about serving as your Maiden. I’m more questioning what the men will be doing in preparation.”

It had never occurred to you that there was a disparity between the work that the different wedding attendants would need to do in order to properly fulfill their duties. Typically, weddings done in the light of the seven always had six attendants to serve them: the Father, the Mother, the Maiden, the Warrior, the Smith, and the Crone. The Stranger was never physically represented - not when having their presence would only invite death onto the newlyweds. The six attendants were typically divided neatly in the middle with the bride’s and groom’s party each providing three of them but, when the party was essentially one, there was no such division aside from preference. Otto Hightower was serving as the Father seeing as Viserys Targaryen could not be bothered. Alicent was the Mother, you were the Maiden, Aemond was the Warrior, Daeron the Smith, and the Crone was…

“Who’s the Crone?” You ask without thinking, your voice accidentally an octave too loud, and, immediately, you are shushed by several people.

Helaena grins at your affronted look. “Princess Rhaenys.”

You choke, earning yourself another reprimand that you promptly ignore, before you lean in, desperate for more information. “Princess Rhaenys? How? Why?”

She shrugs in response. “Grandfather has been talking with her recently. She’s the oldest, highest-ranking woman in our House, after all.”

“He’s actually speaking to her?” You ask. “Or she’s actually speaking to him?”

“Aemond told him to, apparently. He said Grandfather should speak to Princess Rhaenys about tax reforms, I think, and apparently, when he did, he ended up asking her to serve as the Crone and she agreed.”

You lean back, flatly stunned, and you rest your hands on your knees as you think. It had only been a few days since you had told Aemond he should tell the Lord Hand to consult with Rhaenys. While the days since had felt impossibly long, you knew that wasn’t the truth. In all honesty, you had expected Aemond to act on your advice once the wedding had passed, during those few days when noblemen slowly prepared to return to their holdfasts and castles. You had never expected him to enact your suggestions so fast and you fight back a smile.

Aemond’s speed aside, this was massive. Rhaenys serving as an attendant at Aegon and Helaena’s wedding was by no means a sign that she was fostering an alliance with that branch of the Targaryen family but it was an opening.

An opening you intend to use.

“Will she be at the dinner tonight? Or will she be preparing with us later?” You ask, fighting to suppress the eagerness in your voice.

You fail if Helaena’s bemused smile is anything to go off of. “I think she will be.”

You grin, laughing out loud in glee, and not even caring when a chorus of shushes responds.

——————————–

You wish the septas had bothered to heat up the water. The bath hadn’t been bad - at least, not at first. It had been odd, to say the least, to have five septas circling the communal bath while singing hymns you only vaguely recognize while two washed you and Helaena. No one has bathed you since you were a little girl and to suddenly have an audience was disconcerting, to say the least. You had quickly gotten over their presence, however, instead focusing on holding yourself back from shivering relentlessly. It was cold and, as the prayers had dragged on, it had only grown colder. The little warmth the bath had had in the beginning had died quickly and you were left fighting the urge to curse and dive for a towel to try to use to warm you up.

Helaena, thankfully, had handled it much better than you had. She had only flinched at the beginning when the septa had reached for her but eventually, she had grown accustomed to the woman’s touch and had relaxed, looking as if she was handling the cold of the water a great deal better than you.

The blood of the dragon runs hot indeed.

Mercifully, the bath ends and, after dressing the pair of you in simple gowns and drying your hair, the septas guide you to a new statuary area, away from the large room you had been in earlier. It’s spacious enough if only because it’s nearly empty and, when you spot the women waiting for you, you fight down a smile.

Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenys could not look more uncomfortable with one another if they tried. It’s clear that they’ve just arrived for surely they would be more at ease with one another if they had had more time to try and start a conversation. As it were, when the septas lead you and Helaena in, both women show flickers of relief on their faces, one more muted than the other.

When the septas instruct the four of you, you actually listen, unwilling to be caught off guard in front of people who wouldn’t take as kindly to it as Helaena had. Thankfully, the ceremony they leave you all to do is a relatively simple one although a rather tedious one. It’s an affirmation of the seven blessings - the four of you will walk around the sept seven times, stopping at each statue as you go to ask for their blessing for the wedding tomorrow.

Simple. Yet so unbearably tedious.

Thankfully, Alicent, by far the most pious of the four of you, leads the way, Helaena right by her side. This leaves you in the back, walking by Princess Rhaenys. For the first two laps, you’re all relatively quiet, only speaking when you recite the prayers for each of the Seven, but Helaena breaks the silence first, asking her mother how the preparations are going for tomorrow.

When Alicent launches into a long-winded complaint that she’s clearly been holding back all day, you glance over at the Lady of Driftmark, smiling hesitantly when her eyes, the typical dark blue of House Baratheon rather than the usual violet of House Targaryen, meet yours.

“Princess Rhaenys,” you say after a moment, bowing your head slightly in lieu of a curtsey. Rhaenys reciprocates in kind, eyes sharp as she watches you. “Do you have much experience as an attendant?”

Rhaenys smiles, clearly on guard but plainly judging you to be relatively harmless. “A few times here and there. I’ve played the Maiden as a young girl but I’ve been the Crone a few times now in my age.”

You tactfully ignore the fact she’s never gotten the chance to be the Mother. Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding was notoriously rushed and some of the smallfolk whispered that it had been such a cursed union because they had not been given the time to properly ask for the seven blessings. Daemon and Laena’s wedding was similarly speedy if the gossip was to be believed. Daemon had killed Laena’s betrothed and taken her to wife, stealing her away to Essos before anyone could intervene. No seven blessings there either.

“This is my first time as an attendant,” you reply, laughing slightly at yourself. “I’ve attended a few weddings here and there but this is the first time anyone’s ever asked me to participate.”

Conversation pauses as the four of you stop in front of the Maiden, speaking the prayers together, only to resume as you continue on your walk.

Rhaenys raises an eyebrow while looking at you. “You have two older sisters, do you not? I imagine you’ll be able to serve as the Maiden for at least one of them.”

You laugh. “I hope to get such a blessing soon enough. I’m happy enough to serve Helaena, though. She’s a sister to me in all but name at this point.”

“From what I hear, she might be a sister by name soon as well,” she says, smiling slightly when you visibly grow flustered. “The Targaryens may welcome a new daughter sooner rather than later.”

“I could only be so lucky, my princess. To be able to join the house of the dragon would be a blessing beyond words,” you respond after a moment, making sure to soften your tone to sound more shy and unsure of yourself. In front of the two of you, Helaena slightly falters in her footsteps and you feel a flash of nerves, suddenly fearful of her sprouting her prophecies in front of Rhaenys. Instead of that, however, she shoots you an amused look over her shoulder, seemingly having heard the shy maiden you’re presenting yourself as.

Rhaenys, however, doesn’t notice, simply eying you with quiet amusement. Better she think I’m a harmless lovestruck maid than anything else.

After the next statue, the Crone ironically enough, you clear your throat and look back over at the Princess. “I’ve been blessed with being able to speak to Lady Baela. She’s a very clever lady - a testament, I’m sure, to your care.”

Her smile comes even easier now and, in her dark eyes, you can see undisguised pride for her granddaughter. “Baela is a smart girl. Headstrong. She’s like her mother in that regard.”

“Lady Baela has told me of her lady mother - of her kindness and care for her daughters.” You say, softly, and Rhaenys tenses, looking you over with doubt rising in her eyes. You’ve entered dangerous territory with her. “The Stranger is cruel, to take someone so notable so young. I’m glad you’ve stepped in with Lady Baela’s care to honor your daughter. She, and Lady Rhaena, are Lady Laena’s legacy and they are safest in your hands.”

Rhaenys watches you for a beat longer, searching and searching in your face for a sign that you’re being duplicitous. She won’t find it since you’re not - you’re honest. Baela is better off with Princess Rhaenys than with a father who disrespects her mother. “Your words are kind, my lady,” she finally says, tearing her eyes away from yours to stare up at the statue of the Stranger. From here on the ground, the sunlight casts shadows on the stone, concealing completely the Stranger’s face hidden under their cloak. “I live to honor my children. That is my only purpose.”

You don’t reply. You don’t need to. You’ve already planted the seeds.

——————————–

After the week of feasts you’ve been attending night after night, the dining room in Maegor’s Holdfast seems almost positively quaint in comparison. It’d be refreshing and relaxing.

If you could eat.

You and Helaena are the first ones in the dining room and you pointedly keep your eyes off the spread of food, wishing you could plug your nose. You’ve fasted before for different religious holidays but the cooks are seemingly determined to make this exercise in restraint that much harder on you by making your favorites. From freshly baked lemon cakes to decadent venison pies, it all smells absolutely divine and you wish, not for the first time since you’ve sat down, that you could sneak a bite.

Unfortunately, the Queen and Lord Otto are already here, the two of them speaking to Rhaenys about the ceremony tomorrow, and you know with your miserable luck that the moment you reach out to steal even just a candied lemon slice, they’ll look your way and see you breaking your fast. You fear losing their respect more than satisfying your hunger and so you keep your hands firmly in your lap, swearing to yourself that tomorrow you’ll find a way to convince someone to fetch lemon cakes if the bakers don’t make them for tomorrow’s even more lavish feast.

You open your mouth to say something to Helaena when the doors open and Aegon all but trips in. Close behind him, Daeron is grabbing him by the back of the tunic to haul him up while Aemond watches them with such disdain that you know, without a doubt, if his younger brother hadn’t been there, he would have left Aegon to fall on the ground.

“Are we late?” Aegon asks when he rights himself, grinning broadly, and you freely roll your eyes, knowing that none of the princes would care about your act of plain disrespect. Aemond notices and he smirks at you, shaking his head slightly in mirth.

“Of course not,” Alicent says, her tone clearly saying the opposite, and Aegon laughs in lieu of responding. You wince. He’s drunk - which is normal for him - but you haven’t seen him this drunk in years, not since he was a boy and testing his limits. He’s learned to at least play the part of sober but he must have drunk Sunfyre’s weight in alcohol for him to be this drunk. He’s stumbling and only Daeron at his side is keeping him standing. Carefully, the youngest prince guides his brother to a seat at the right end of the table, all but dumping him into it, before he slides into the seat next to him, smiling brightly at the rest of the table as if he hadn’t physically dragged Aegon here. Aemond sits next to you, sandwiching you between him and Helaena, sitting across from his older brother so he can suitably glare at him.

Otto clears his throat once the men settle. “Nevertheless, the princes are here now. We should begin.”

For a moment, you fear he’s going to give a speech and you don’t know if you can stand to sit here amongst your favorite foods for longer than absolutely necessary. When he doesn’t, you almost sigh in relief except the Queen announces that they should all pray together before the meal in order to ask the gods one final time to lend their blessings for tomorrow.

Of course, you think to yourself even as you bow your head and close your eyes, clasping your hands in front of you. This marriage will need all the blessings the gods see fit to give it to be successful.

Thankfully, the prayer goes fast and, almost on instinct, you reach for food only to have to bring yourself to an abrupt stop. You stare pitifully at the tray stacked high with lemon cakes, wishing desperately that you could eat one.

“You’ve fasted before, my lady. I’m surprised you’re taking it so hard this time.” Aemond says after a moment and you pitifully drag your stare away from the lemon cakes to frown at him. He hasn’t reached for any food for his place, preferring to watch you with amusement at your disgruntled expression, and that only makes you frown even more. Around the pair of you, the conversation has started with Lord Otto speaking with Helaena and Rhaenys as Alicent and Daeron make a valiant attempt at disguising their panic at Aegon’s quickly deteriorating state.

“I have,” you reply in a prim voice, tapping your fingers against the empty table setting in front of you. “But this time it’s different. For Maiden’s Day, I’m free to lock myself up in my quarters and distract myself. Here, the temptation is the point. I need to be tempted to prove that I’m able to abstain.”

Aemond’s eyes flash with something that leaves too fast for you to identify. He looks at you for a moment, scanning and analyzing, before he looks over his shoulder to check on his mother sitting by his side. The Queen is leaning towards Aegon, whispering fiercely in low tones, and, judging from the mulish look on the prince’s face, she will be distracted the entire dinner by his shenanigans. He turns back to you and moves closer.

Without thinking, you also move closer, slowly and imperceptibly so as to not call attention, and your sleeve brushes his. Your heart begins to pound loud in your chest.

“Are you tempted often, my lady?” He asks, voice low and steady, and you blink owlishly up at him.

“I don’t eat lemon cakes every day if that’s what you’re asking,” you respond after a moment, tilting your head as you meet his gaze. You know what he’s asking - you know you’re playing the fool for him right now - but you don’t know how to articulate the answer that he’s seeking.

I’m tempted every day but I don’t know what to do.

He smiles but there’s something mean about it. His arm presses into yours. “But you do indulge.”

Vaguely, you’re aware of Helaena laughing at something Rhaenys says but you can’t register any of it, not with the blood rushing in your ears. You lick your lips anxiously and Aemond’s eyes seize on the motion, watching your mouth hungrily. Your heart stutters. “I… I don’t know how.” You confess, feeling yourself burn with shame and something else. “I’ve never… Never.”

I’m playing the Maiden you think to yourself as you watch Aemond’s smirk slowly grow on his face, when that hunger from after the melee grows in his eyes. Surely, this is breaking some rule, going against the blessings we’ve spent all day asking for.

But to be fair to yourself… You don’t think this union could be any more cursed, wayward Maidens and tempting Warriors aside. Perhaps the gods would take pity on you. Maybe the Maiden had never been tempted by a man like Aemond Targaryen.

“But I want to,” you say, the words rushing themselves out of his mouth before you can reconsider them. “Gods, I want to.”

Temptation is the point, you reason with yourself, ignoring how the heat from your and his body makes your head go hazy. There is nothing to abstain from if there is nothing to tempt.

Aemond tilts his head, looking like a cat that’s cornered the mouse, playing with it, knowing he’s won. Part of you rebels against it, wants to remind him that you’re no meek maiden, but a larger part of you delights in letting go of your own restraint and control, if only for a few stolen moments at dinner. “Would you like some advice?”

Something in you thrums at his voice. Mouth dry, you nod.

His eye looks around him for a moment and, judging it to be safe, he leans in, his lips touching your ear as he does. Your hands fist up your dress in your lap, pulling it tight. “I would, my love, but I’m afraid we’re unbound as of right now. My mother might be remarkably uninterested in keeping my head on my shoulders now that the tourney is done.”

He pulls away but you reach out, capturing him by the arm to hold him still. You look at him, mindful to keep your careful distance but still close enough that you feel that rush of excitement when he looks at you. “You said that there’s always been an understanding,” you remind him, squeezing him slightly. “Ever since I came.”

Only peripheral awareness of your surroundings keeps you from telling him that your father wouldn’t mind, not really, if he took his liberties. He would only mind if the perception of you from the court was that he had not, that you were the perfect Maiden that you were meant to be.

From the look in Aemond’s eye, you wonder if he already knows.

He smiles, gentler than he has during this entire dinner, and, for half a second, you feel robbed - of what you’re not sure and that’s the worst part that makes you want to scream. As quickly as the disappointment arises, however, he dashes it when, under his breath, low enough so no one else can hear, he says, “There’s a bud, my lady, in the apex of your thighs. When you’re alone, touch it. Or perhaps, you’ll be strong enough to abstain.”

Your legs snap together, rubbing, and you heave a sigh, nodding shakily, as he pulls away completely. His smile grows even softer as he takes in your state of disorientation.

“Are you tempted?” He asks, nodding his head towards the lemon cakes, as if he’s asking you a perfectly innocent question about your fast. Next to him, finally noticing something aside from Aegon fighting to not vomit, Alicent frowns at him.

“Aemond,” she scolds, looking as if all her patience has left her. “Don’t tease her - she’s performing a great duty for Aegon and Helaena.”

Aemond nods solemnly. “Of course, Mother,” he replies, as innocent as a Targaryen prince could ever be. “I was simply admiring her strength and asking if she was alright.”

You briefly entertain exposing his misbehavior to the Queen, if only to watch him squirm as he had you, but instead, you sigh. “I am fine. Thank you for asking, my prince.”

Aemond bows his head towards you, as if acknowledging your sacrifice for his family, and Alicent turns back to her oldest son, her attention plainly leaving the two of you. He looks at you for a moment longer.

Before he reaches out to steal a candied lemon slice off a lemon cake, popping it in his mouth, and licking the sugar off his fingers.

You wonder if you’re strong enough to flip the table.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #i've lured you guys in with romance and now you have to read my worldbuilding #this also goes out to the person who asked how lady lannister is so strong to resist aemond (spoiler alert: its the lack of sex ed)

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Imagine actress!reader playing the role of Jocelyn Lannister. Imagine filming scenes with almost everyone, some scenes are very intimate and 18+, you have to be nude many times, gorgeous revealing dresses.

Imagine you have to film scenes like where Otto and Jocelyn are discussing how to keep King Aegon wrapped around her fingers. Otto talking casually as he feels Jocelyn and enjoys her touch as well. Jocelyn enjoys herself a powerful man

Imagine a scene where Jocelyn visits Aegon the night of his coronation. She just wants to show her king how much love he deserves and that she would be a better queen and wife.

Imagine a scene where Aemond is lusting over his brother's new wife, Jocelyn. Secretly Aemond desires both the throne and Jocelyn. Imagine a scene where Aemond goes into Jocelyn's room when she is taking a bath. She steps out of the tub completely naked and Aemond just can't stop looking at her with lust and desire. Jocelyn would be lying if she said she hasn't developed feelings for him as well, but she also desires power. Imagine someone came to kill Jocelyn and Aemond protects her, kills the men and keeps her safe and unharmed

Imagine a very intimate and hot sex scene between Jocelyn and Aemond. It's right after he comes back from a battle, Aegon is not there and Jocelyn tends to his wounds. Or its when Jocelyn is travelling to some place and was ambushed, Aemond comes riding his dragon and protects her but gets injured. Jocelyn tends to him and Aemond just pulls her in for a hot steamy kiss. He doesn't care that she is his brother's wife or the queen. He just wants her. And Jocelyn for the first time in her life actually loving someone without a selfish reason behind it. Aemond knows her ambitious aims but still loves her, trusts her. Jocelyn actually never betraying Aemond no matter what

#ewan mitchell x actress!reader #tom glynn carney #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell #Jocelyn Lannister #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x oc #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #game of thrones imagines #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon imagine

[jason-is-a-real-mood]

One day we'll have to sit down and talk seriously about how the lannister!reader we all put in our writing is always the dream daughter that tywin lannister, the most strict and unforgiving father there is (being kind here) would want, listen to and respect.

And also why she always ends up with one of the characters of the got/hotd world who love to see her unhinged and ruthless.

#Now i'm not saying that this is really older daughter coded but #it kinda is oldest daughter coded #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow x reader #tywin lannister x reader #hotd #got #game of thrones #lannister!reader #lannister #house of the dragon #reader insert #house lannister