#aemond targeryen imagine

[bittersweetarts]

Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Aemond Targaryen x You (Fanfiction)

Word count: 3471 words

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: Misogynistic behaviour (borderline sexist), dubious consent, no smut (because I am physically unable to)

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Chapter 1: The Summer Solstice Festival

When you first came to King’s Landing as a young maiden, you didn’t expect much out of your stay – it was meant to be brief, and your parents had hoped that you would next return to Storm’s End betrothed. It was your duty as a high-born woman. Though your house is noble, much of its influence had been lost in the years subsequent to the ascent of Aegon the Conqueror, and you needed to secure a good match for its livelihood.

When your parents first received a letter from the Targaryen Family, inviting your household to to stay at the Red Keep during the Summer Solstice Festival, a religious holiday in the Faith of the Seven, your father had instructed you to attend with your mother and one of your elder brothers, Steffon. The pair would serve as your liaison between potential suitors, and this irritated you greatly. Independent in spirit, you could not reconcile the fact that your insufferable git of a brother, only a few years elder to you, gets to determine the path of your life, purely on the basis of his sex. Yet, here you were, en route to the capitol, trying to summon your optimism in bleak circumstances.

Part of a large family of fifteen, you were next in line to be wed, and truly, you were grateful that you have managed to escape the life of becoming a child bride. You truly are the epitome of a middle child, only occasionally remembered, and when you were needed, you could be found in the household library, your head firmly affixed to a book. You are of a reserved nature, found far from the center of affairs, and from a minor house, which is why everyone found it surprising that Queen Alicent had taken notice of you, most of all yourself.

“My Queen,” you bowed towards the famed pious woman, as you greeted her with your mother and brother at the entrance of the Royal Hall. It has been a little of a week since your arrival to King’s Landing, and you had little to show for it, much to the dismay of your chaperones. It was almost the mid-point mark of the celebration, and in honour of the Summer Solstice, a ball was being hosted. Ironically, it was Steffon who has garnered the most interest with regards to marriage, and you have slowly begun to prepare yourself with the life of being a spinster. It couldn’t be so bad, perhaps you could train to become a midwife, or whatever occupation you could find. In a way, you wish you could do just that, forge your own way in life, and create one that is truly your own. But you know that is just fantasy, and that if you are unable to return engaged, your parents would likely just arrange a partnership with the first possible suitor. Nevertheless, this was a harmless fantasy that you let yourself divulge into, which in all fairness, was not frequent, as you were more often than not, reading. The Red Keep’s library was your favourite place in the world, you had decided, as you know that their collection would keep you occupied beyond your lifetime, and when you were not there, you were found at the Royal Gardens, reading. Unrealised to you, this had earned you a reputation as a book worm, and had attracted the attention of the Queen.

“I must say, I am quite surprised, this is the first I have seen of you since your arrival, without a book at hand.” The fair woman spoke, next to her fair-haired children, observing the fair.

Unbeknownst to you or your family, this was the first light-hearted comment the Queen had spoken that evening. She had been an awful mood due to the unsurprising absence of King Aegon II from yet another Festival event, which was preluded with a heated argument regarding the utility of wasting treasury funds for religious events, at least that was the position of the ill King, much to the dismay of his young mother, a devout follower of the Faith.

This shift in mood had surprised the one-eyed Prince Aemond, who had otherwise been detached from affairs of the evening, by that point. He truly did not give a shit about inconsequential matters, such as balls where fat old men drunk themselves into oblivion, and naïve young women armed themselves with false flatteries, in hopes of wooing some nobleman, all while their duplicitous guardians manipulated these affairs.

However, this moment had intrigued Prince Aemond. For one, you were a foreign face, and as was your name, as introduced by your older brother. But more importantly, you were someone who had caught the attention of his mother, a woman who did not care for court social life in the slightest, unless for political purpose.

You tactfully maneuvered the conversation, deflecting attention from yourself whilst politely responding to the Queen. Thanking her for the invitation whilst leisurely bowing, Aemond could not help but notice how pleasing you appeared in that position, with your flushed cheeks and full chest on display. As you disappeared into the crowd, Aemond took mental note of you and your house, as well as the dress you were wearing, a deep crimson frock which accentuated your golden skin and glistening décolleté. It definitely was a satisfying display, and his interest had been piqued.

You had found the entire Targaryen family handsome, and each time you see them, you are always taken aback by their beauty. Queen Helaena could have been a Goddess, and all of the Princes in attendance had an unworldly quality to them. You could almost understand in a way why it was their dynasty that managed to ‘unite’ the Seven Kingdoms. Almost. However, you knew better, and it was not their beauty, but violence, fire and bloodshed that had chained the Kingdom together. And you were unsure of whether that was a good thing.

As the evening progressed, you slowly started blending into the background. A few dances with unmemorable men to appease your mother, and a waiting game until your brother was too intoxicated to remember your existence. You had brief conversations with suitors, monitored by your kind, yet stern mother, and you knew that any arrangement would ultimately be managed by her.

You were never good at maintaining conversations with peers, and found that you over-thought spoken exchanges too much. You preferred avoiding such internal conflict, and predictably grew weary of the ball, as you chose to not even interact with any of the other ladies in attendance. Though you knew it was unwise to be alone as a maiden, you decided that you were in need of fresh air and opted to go to the nearest vacant balcony, with a goblet of cherry wine at hand, whilst trying to hide from your observant mother. While leaving, you expected that no one would take notice of you. The one-eyed Prince, who had distantly observed you since the beginning of the night, giving you more glances than he should have, saw opportunity. Satisfied with this development, he stealthily followed you, keeping a considerable distance.

The Red Keep was a maze, and while you stumbled across many people, most were intoxicated and took no notice of you. You were a lady on a mission, and were in desperate need of fresh air. After an eternity wandering, regretting not finding the courage to ask one of the many knights you crossed paths with, you finally found refuge in a large empty balcony. As you approached the railing, setting down your sleeved arms against it, you took in a deep breath of fresh air, or rather air that is as fresh as it could be in King’s Landing suffocating weather. Your momentary peace however was disrupted, as a deep male voice echoed behind you, startling you.

“Like a little lamb on your own, are you not afraid of being taken advantage of?”

You immediately jumped around, and a small distance in front of you was the wayward Prince Aemond, known throughout the land for his coldness and unspoken cruelty; the kinslayer, and since the war, this reputation has only cemented further. Immediately, the image of the Prince riding his infamous dragon, burning down cities and armies came to mind. You could almost hear the screaming in your head. You truly were afraid, but you were also stubborn, and refused to be intimidated by anyone, including a Prince.

Taking a quick breath, you cocked your head while responding, forcing a smile. You hoped this could be interpreted as charming.

“Do I have anything to be afraid of?” You spoke, in a soft voice.

His violet eye was sharp, staring at you, and in the darkness, dilated. His expression was stiff, and he did not return your smile, his jaw remaining tight. Despite appearances, you did feel incredibly intimidated, but hoped that the Prince had not noticed your false bravado. There was a momentary silence, and you forced your smile to remain, while staring back. A fresh breeze past the two of you.

“I suppose not,” Aemond spoke after what felt like an eternity to you.

Keeping a small distance, he joined you, leaning against the railway, still staring at you. The silence continued, except that it felt deafening to you, thanks to your heartbeat. Aemond enjoyed watching you squirm. It was entertaining to him, your reaction, and it was not as he expected. Most women are afraid and flee, or throw themselves at him, yet here you were, doing neither. And Aemond did not like being unexpecting of others.

Finally breaking eye contact, you turned back around, staring at King’s Landing, while nervously cupping your goblet, still filled. You were not ready to break the silence, and to be frank, you were unsure of what was happening. How is it that you managed to find yourself alone with the likes of him? Why were you not more cautious and why did you have to leave on your own? This was a precarious situation, and you knew that it was better for you to be silent, so as to not offend the Prince, which in all likelihood, you would still manage to do regardless. And even if you had not managed to, you were not only afraid of him, but also that someone will inevitably find you two alone together. The soiling of your reputation felt inevitable now, and the prospect continued to frighten you. You start to fiddle with your goblet, now staring down at it, until a sudden movement catches you by surprise.

Swiftly, Aemond grasped the wine, chugging it effortlessly before tossing it aside, the glass shattering absorbed by the noisy environment of the celebration and the city sound. Frozen, you widened your eyes, and your mouth gapes open.

The Prince was attempting baiting you into breaking the silence, yet here you were, still hushed. Stepping closer, the Prince grazed a hand against your flushed cheeks and jawline, and now you start to violently tremble.

“So you are indeed afraid,” Aemond now smiled as he spoke, and you could not help but notice a wickedness behind it. Your false confidence had crumbled, and you felt like you were sweating profusely. Prince Aemond still continued to caress your face gently, with his rough hands, which felt cool against your boiling skin. His face was now a breath away, and his voice lowered as he spoke.

“I don’t mind though. In fact, I do believe some fear is healthy, helps people know their place” the Targaryen pauses for a moment, his fingers now exploring your lips. At this, you jerk and you bite down, hard. If it hurt, the Prince did not show his reaction, but merely jumped and glanced at his index and middle finger, which against the moonlight had a crimson glisten. Though this happened on impulse, you were in a state of shock for a moment, staring at the Prince’s hand.

When you realised how fucked you were, you tried to sprint, but failed to, as a hand shot up against your throat tightly.

“No. Behave.” Aemond drawled out slowly, his face touching yours’s. You could smell the wine in his breath, and there was rabid look in his eye. Though you felt faint, and you thought your voice would fail you. Luckily, you felt a survival instinct rush through you. You never doubted that the Prince was dangerous, but at that moment, you truly felt at peril.

Looking at his violet eye, you spoke back, your voice throaty due to the constriction. You also gently wrap your hands around his right hand, in hope that he may release it. Tears began escaping your eyes, and they slid down to Aemond’s hand. As they did, his smile only grew more fervent, and his eye become completely dilated.

“Why should I?” You weakly respond. Your mind was blank, and you had no clue what to say.

“That is an odd apology.” The Prince responded back, grinning. “I am sorry, my Prince. I am sorry for harming you.” He says mockingly.

“You do not want an apology.” You say. Tears continue streaming, though slower now.

“I don’t? Then pray tell, what do I want? I did not realise that you knew me so well, little lamb.” You did not miss the demeaning nickname, spoken with a mocking tone.

“No. You want to control me, that is what you men always want.”

Aemond smiled cruelly, lowering his gaze. “Us men, huh? You sure do seem well acquainted with the wants of men.”

The Prince’s implication was deafening, and his other hand suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, firmly but not painfully. You felt ashamed, and angry that the Prince had made you felt this way. Taking many rapid shallow breaths, you spoke harshly.

“You are vile and cruel.” Your hands now try to push against his chest, but fail. “If you intend to violate me, just do it already. Were you not taught by your Queen mother to not play with your food.”

At the mention of his mother, Aemond smile dropped, and so did his hand from your throat. The mention of Queen Alicent had broken his fervent fantasy, and he was brought back to reality. He was grateful that he had planted a knight to monitor the door and ensure no interruption, but he was not prepared to end his folly so promptly. The Prince had enjoyed this little game, and the most fun he has had in a long while, at least since the war ended with the demise of his not so dear half-sister and other kin. Yes, he was not ready for the folly to end just yet, and you had proven to be very entertaining indeed.

Though with one of his arms still around you, Aemond slightly distanced himself, and ran his free hand through your hair, as if you were a pet. Your brown hair was soft, and Aemond loved how he could sense a sweet earthy scent from it. You jump at this, and try to shove his hand away, but suddenly realise that they are clasped behind you, against your waist.

“You will not be violated, you are a noblewoman after all,” he says cryptically, smiling. “And why would I, when I prefer my women to submit on their own accord.”

“I am not yours.” You respond, your voice high and indignant.

With a mean laugh, Aemond responds. “Well-read people are supposed to be clever, are they not? Because you seem to misunderstand your position.” The Prince pulls you in crushingly, and now, you feel like you cannot breathe.

“Though you are a noble lady, I am a Prince.” He says sharply, every breath like a dagger slashing against the air. “By birthright, I can do as I please, and if I decide that you are mine, there is little you can do.”

“But as I said, I am not yours.”

Smirking, Aemond let you go. You were upset and angry, blinded by your emotion, and Aemond lived for your stubbornness. It drove him mad, in the best way possible.

“We’ll see about that.”

With that, the young Prince left, and as soon as you were alone, you crumbled onto the ground, hysterically upset and ventilating. After what felt like an eternity, a hand gently touched your shoulder, which scared you, causing you to scream.

Looking up, a knight profusely apologised. “My Lady, I sincerely apologise. Please do not be frightened.” You back yourself against the balcony railing, crawling away from him.

“Please, let me escort you to your quarters.” He says, keeping his distance. You were unsure whether you could trust him, and stared at him wide-eyed, trembling and hiccuping. Though the knight felt sympathy towards you, he had to follow orders, as it was his head on the line, not yours. 

“Please. I have been instructed by Prince Aemond to do so.”

At this, you panic completely, and wrap your arms around yourself, beginning to shiver even more profusely. You feel frozen in place, and feel incredibly faint. Closing your eyes, you try to will away this nightmare of an evening. For a moment, you believe it to be a dream, and you wonder whether actually it was, as your consciousness escapes you. In the background, you hear some voices and a heavy sigh, and you feel yourself carried away. You are unable to distinguish reality, and as you toss, you are met with a strong chest and shushing.

When you wake, you feel incredibly congested. It takes a few moments for your blurry vision to clear, and as you look around, you are relieved to be in your guest chambers at the Keep. That was truly one awful nightmare. Your head is pounding, and you come to the conclusion that you must avoid wine. It affects you too much, evidently. 

You see that you are still dressed in last night’s attire, and go to your bedroom’s private lavatory to refresh and prepare yourself for the day ahead. You put on a cream silk gown, light for the humid daytime weather. What is on today’s itinerary? Better to confirm with mother.

As you stroll into the modest living area, you are shocked to see Queen Alicent and Queen Helaena, sat with your mother, having tea. Your brother, who is normally noisy as an elephant, is absent from the room.

“And she finally wakes.” Your mother dramatically states, though you can hear a masked tightness in her tone.

You immediately bow before the Queens, very low, greeting everyone in the room, hoping that your shock is not visible, and that they take no offense. You are confused about what was happening entirely, until you remember your nightmare. Not a nightmare? Your heart begins to race.

“Please, sit.” A song-like voice speaks, and you realise that it is Queen Helaena who spoke, her voice mesmerising. You felt enchanted, and found yourself seated without second thought. You smile nervously, feeling inadequate next to such a beautiful person like her.

Despite your aloofness, Helaena launches into conversation, talking about how glad we found ourselves in attendance of the Summer Solstice Festival. Snapping yourself to sense, you attempt to begin conversation, understanding the importance of having the Queens in your company. Well versed in the Faith of the Seven and its history, you proceed to begin conversation about the theological origins of the Festival, and how it all began with followers committing sacrifices and offerings to the Mother Above, in hopes of prosperous harvests. “We soon understood the grander the offerings and showcases, the more blessed are the blessings.” The young Queen completely enraptured as you spoke, which relieved Alicent. Yes, my Aemond was correct. This would be ideal, the Queen thought.

In a kind, yet commandeering voice, Queen Alicent spoke as you finished. “I do not mean to deviate, sweet child. We were just speaking about this with your mother earlier, prior to your wake.”

The Queen took hold of your hands with two of hers, smiling whilst maintaining firm eye contact with you. It felt very familiar and comforting. In the corner of your eye, you see your mother’s face, and realise that there is fear in her. This spikes your anxiety.

“My dear, you are exactly the type of lady my dear Helaena needs as a companion. How do you feel about prolonging your stay at King’s Landing?”

Queen Alicent framed the proposal as a question, but you know that this is far from a request. You sincerely wish it had been, as right now, you recognise the danger ahead of you, yet again.

Taking a deep breath and summoning your voice, you respond, with fabricated joy.

“It would be an honour, my Queens.”

Hope you enjoyed my incredibly self-indulgent imagine!

I have been rotting my brain with Aemond Targaryen fanfiction for weeks and decided to take one for the team and write a fanfic myself. I do not claim to be a writer, but I also may continue writing more chapters, depending on my mental stability (the worse it gets, the more likely I am to write).

I have also posted this on AO3, incase you prefer that platform 

– Chapter 2

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[thedreamsmith]

Forged in Dragonfire (Part 7)

As always, feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Terror warred with revulsion; a scream that was not hers rang out as Lord Vaemond’s blood sprayed across the foot of the Iron Throne. Princess Helaena was clutching her hands over her ears, eyes rolling wildly as her mother pushed in front of her, a futile attempt to shield her from the horror that had already unfolded before them.

Aemond’s gaze was fixed unwavering upon his uncle, his expression unreadable as Prince Daemon made a glib remark, utterly at odds with the vile act he had just committed. His grip was iron on her waist, his body turned ever so slightly toward her and his sister.

The following minutes were a blur of raised voices and King Viserys announcing that he wanted his family to gather for dinner; Helaena’s panicked breathing and Aemond asking her to meet him in the royal quarters, to join them for supper. His words barely registered. There was blood splattered on the hem of her skirts.

How had she spent over a decade forging weapons without considering what they were used for? How had she trained with sword and dagger with Aemond without thinking what it would be like to use them on the flesh of another?

A steward guided her from the great hall, giving her instructions that she did not hear. The only sound in her ears was the terrible metal-song as Dark Sister had passed through the Lord of Driftmark’s skull.

In the chaos that followed, she slipped unnoticed from the Keep, down the dusk-lit streets of King’s Landing until she was surrounded by the familiarity of her family’s home at the base of Visenya’s Hill. The lamps were dimmed, nobody within but the servants, as she passed like a spectre through the familiar hallways.

She had enough presence of mind to change her dress, stuffing the blood-splattered gown to the back of her closet. The scent of brimstone drew a dry sob from her as she pulled the garment over her head, ripping the laces loosened by Aemond’s clever hands just hours before.

Then, dressed only in her shift, hardly feeling the chill on her bare skin, she settled in to wait for the dragon at the door.

*

Night had fallen fully by the time Aemond made his way to her. The hours following the blood-soaked audience before the Iron Throne had been endless, wearing grooves in the polished wood floor of her bedchamber as she paced.

His arrival was not preceded by a servant, testament to the late hour and the prince’s black mood.

Yet despite the wildness clinging to him like the ever-present scent of dragon-smoke, his voice was ragged, edged by what she would have called desperation in any other man.

‘Where were you?’ He stopped mere inches from her, but they may has well have been standing on opposite sides of the Narrow Sea. Nothing had felt farther from the way he had hauled her against him just hours before in the warm darkness of the Dragonpit. ‘I was going to announce our betrothal to my family. I waited for you. The Strong bastards had a good laugh at my expense.’

There was a treacherous edge to his words now, his eye flashing dangerously as it flickered over her face. The words waiting on her tongue were heavy in her mouth, as sour as rancid wine. There was no world in which she feared the man before her, not for her own safety. But she feared for what tragedy her words would wreak upon the soul he had bared to her; the raw wounds wrought by a lifetime of torment and living in his family’s terrible shadow.

‘We cannot be wed, Aemond.’ Her voice was thick with sorrow and heavy with pain. ‘I am not fit for this game of thrones - I cannot watch it consume you.’

The crimson spray of blood that flashed across her mind was no longer that of Lord Vaemond’s, but Aemond’s. The screams belonging not to the Helaena but children with her dark hair and the prince’s cunning eyes.

‘I am the deadliest swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. I ride the largest dragon in the world. I will protect you and our children until my last breath.’ Every line of his body was pulled taut, a bowstring primed to release, the arrow pointed directly at her shattering heart. ‘They will never know the pain that I have. Why can you not trust me in this?’

Hysteria and fear curdled in her breast, as terrible and destructive as wildfire; boiling and consuming until her blood was ablaze, and it felt as though the world might burn with her.

‘Because despite what we feel for each other, those who associate with your house tend to end up dead.’ She hissed, willing her eyes to stay dry, for the blaze inside her to evaporate the weakness that threatened to spill from her every pore. ‘I do not wish for myself or my future children to spend every waking moment guarding their backs from a grab for power or imagined slight.’

Aemond’s face seemed to spasm, a single flicker of emotion before it settled into indifferent stone.

‘I have never expressed any feelings for you beyond base lust, a mistake I do not intend to make again.’ His tone was flat, glacial - a perverted mockery of the fragile soul she had seen in the darkness of his room. ‘I am the second born son of the king; I am destined for a better match than to the last-born daughter of a minor lord. You have as much use to me as a common whore.’

Her heart seized at his words, a painful tremor that threatened to bring her to her knees. But she would not kneel before this man, despite her low standing, despite the way her traitorous heart yearned for him.

In the end, it was the prince who made the decision for her, striding away without another word. Each crack of his boots against the parquet reverberated against her heart, driving another needle into her soul. The door slammed heavily behind him, and the ensuing silence so complete it was deafening.

Afterwards, she could not say how she had managed to dress herself and right her tangled hair, only that a sense of crystal calm had descended over her, as sharp and delicate as glass. With hands that did not shake, she wrote three letters.

The first she had delivered to her father and brother with an excuse that they would not investigate; that her moon blood had come, and that she wished to recuperate at their estate outside the city.

The second would be sent to Jon, with her apologies that family matters would keep her from the forge for a time.

The third flew with a raven to the chamberlain of her family’s ancestral estate in the eastern crownlands, informing the remaining domestics that she would be lodging for half a moon while her mother visited her eldest sister in the Reach.

The quiet clarity remained, the calm before the storm, as she woke the servants and ordered her belongings to be packed and loaded into her father’s carriage. It crept into her bones, curling like a cat into the dark hollows within her ribcage. She barely registered the leagues that passed on the half-day journey beyond the walls of King’s Landing.

The first fingers of dawn were creeping over the horizon when she arrived at Fernside Manor. If anything appeared amiss, her family’s aging chamberlain did not comment as she greeted him upon the worn stone steps of the house that she had been born in. It followed her through the hallways, up to the rooms that had been hers since she was weaned.

And there, upon the furs in her childhood bed, in a room warmed by a fire set hours previous, it broke like a storm descending.

Until this moment, grief had been a distant acquaintance to Lady Edeline Farring; only making its presence briefly known in the passing of elderly relatives and echoing through plays and novels.

Now it bullied its way into her body, into her very essence, as she fractured over and over again. Each sob was a memory become manifest; the first shock of their meeting, the weight of his hand on her hip, the words he’d hurled at her like so many knives, his mouth hot against hers – burning, burning.

Burning until they were stripped bare, a perfect match, a perfect mirror. Tempered steel - deadly beauty forged in dragon fire.

*

The fire in the hearth was naught but embers by the time the firestorm within her banked its wicked flames. The knock that sounded at the door was the loudest thing in the world; it brought her back to her senses and let her find her voice, barely a whisper after hours of weeping.

‘I do not wish to be disturbed.’

‘Terribly rude of you, sweetling, after I have dragged these old bones of mine up those wretched stairs.’ The figure in the doorway as it opened was frailer than she remembered, leaning against a cane when it had once stood proudly. Nonetheless, her grandmother’s voice was unmistakable in its elegance.

The dowager Lady Farring made her way into the dim chamber, a trio of tall candles flickering in the candelabra held in the hand not wrapped around the intricately carved head of her cane.

‘I do not know why that doddering fool your father calls a chamberlain did not see fit to inform me that my granddaughter had returned home for the first time in moons.’ Elena set the candelabra on the dresser beside the bed, before slowly lowering herself onto the furs next to her granddaughter’s curled form. ‘Nobody tells me anything these days.’

Edeline laughed wetly as she pushed herself upright, allowing her grandmother to cup her damp cheek, wrinkled hand soft as she gently wiped a tear from beneath her lashes.

‘Am I to assume that all this fuss is about that Targaryen prince of yours?’ The piercing grey eyes were her father’s, passed down to him from the matriarch who had sided with her against her mother when she begged to be allowed to apprentice under Jon. Edeline swallowed thickly.

‘I thought no one told you anything?’

Elena clicked her tongue sharply. ‘Obviously that does not apply to your mother – she wrote me hardly a day after she saw you two dancing together at the king’s feast.’

Of course she had.

‘Aemo-‘ She stumbled over the name, ‘The prince does not to belong to me. He never did.’

Her grandmother did not reply, letting the heavy silence prod her youngest granddaughter into speaking. Edeline worked her jaw soundlessly, torn between girlish stubbornness and giving in to the trick that had worked so many times when employed by her father.

‘If you are trying to parse how to lie to me about your innocence, you do not need to trouble yourself.’ The matriarch’s tone was as dry as the Dornish sands, one lined corner of her mouth twitching into a smile. ‘Your lady mother may not have noticed the hay in your hair and your rouge on that lordling’s doublet, but I certainly did. Besides, you are not the first women in this family to ride a dragon, for that matter. King Viserys was quite the libertine before he married his late queen consort.’

‘Grandmother.’ Despite the ache in her chest, a startled laugh burst forth, pushing back the darkness, just a little. ‘I did not have…relations with the prince. He merely kissed me.’

‘Then Prince Aemond must be a particularly skilled kisser, to inspire all this trouble.’  Her face heated, blushing to the roots of her hair as her grandmother maintained a serene expression. Even the filthiest language she had heard on the Street of Steel had not prepared her to discuss the details of her intimate trysts with the women who had helped birth her.

Sensing that she was not going to get further with this line of questioning, Elena sighed gently, smoothing the dark hair back from the younger woman’s face.

‘Your father is a good man, but his marriage to your mother was a match borne of duty and alliance. It was the Mother’s good fortune that they found solace in each other in the years afterward. Be as it may, despite the way she throws knights and lordlings into your path, Marilla has always wished for you to find a love match, even if she and your sisters could not.’

Edeline snorted, a crass sound that the Lady Farring in question would scold her for if she heard.

‘It’s more likely that the Father will sprout tits before that happens.’

Her grandmother scowled sharply, rapping her knuckles with a ring-encrusted hand for good measure. ‘Don’t be sacrilegious, awful girl.’

She smiled fully then; the sharp ache of her broken heart still present but dulled somewhat, at least for now. Her true agenda achieved, her grandmother mirrored her expression, the gleam in her eyes belonging to a much younger woman than the body she wore with such grace.

‘Now,’ She planted her cane, twining her free arm around Edeline’s. ‘You may help me move my old bones down to the kitchens and we can see if the cook still remembers how to make those sweet buns that you were so fond of as a girl.’

‘Yes, grandmother.’ For now, she left her grief behind in the darkened room, curled beneath the furs like a loyal hound. It would still be there when she returned, she knew, where it would once again twine its dark tendrils around her bones and peel her apart as the stone walls stood in silent witness. Each barb of its wicked tongues armed with the hateful words he had spit at her, each artfully forged to find the chinks in her armour, to draw blood.

But for now, she would let the memories of her girlhood warm her. Just for a little longer.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 8

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond stannies #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targeryen imagine #aemond x oc #aemond x ofc #slow burn #oc #ofc #slowburn #angst #angst with a happy ending

[sublimitymp3]

hi hope you have a nice day :) if you have time could you write hotd's yandere boys (estranged) romantic reaction to his reader wife giving birth to twins? (I apologize in advance if this bothers you or something I swear I didn't mean to :( take care :)

I'm back 😈😈😈

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Aegon was madly in love with you, his darling wife, but he never quite knew how to show it. He had awful habits of drinking, whoring, and gambling, only pushing you further away from him. Each time he'd come crying to you on his knees promising he'd do better, you'd hold him and suppress your feelings, but enough was enough. You were pregnant, carrying his child and he couldn't even make an effort to stop his wanton ways. You were fed up, and rightfully so. You had moved into your own separate apartments, eating your meals alone in your rooms, and avoiding places around the Red Keep you knew your husband would frequent. Eventually, the months passed, and you neared closer to giving birth each day, until one night, your labors finally had begun. Aegon was at some brothel wasting away and getting drunker by the second it seemed. He had no clue you were in the midst of your labors, nor that you would be bringing in not one, but two of his babes into the world. It is only the next day does he wake from his slumber, hungover and feeling ill, does he find out you had given birth. He rushes to your chambers to see you sitting up in bed, cradling two swaddled babes, each one with little tufts of white hair and violet eyes. He'd immediately burst into tears at the sweet sight, begging for your forgiveness and swearing to the old Gods and the new that he would change his lecherous ways for you and his newborn children. Despite your apprehension to forgive him, deep down inside you strangely felt that he would truly honor his promise this time.

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Aemond seemed so cold to you. He was distant and rarely ever spoke to you unless it was necessary. Even when you'd try to initiate conversation he'd only respond cooly with a yes, no, or a simple hum of acknowledgment. You'd tell yourself at night when you lay alone in bed that it could've been worse. He could've been prone to striking you, or he could flaunt paramours in your face. He could've been a drunkard, a wastrel, or a cruel and sadistic husband. However, your efforts to comfort yourself would be in vain, as the feeling of loneliness festered within.

Despite Aemond being a withdrawn husband, you both had done your duty on your wedding night and so it was no surprise you had fallen pregnant. Unbeknownst to you, Aemond was growing more and more obsessive over you once he had been told you were now carrying his child. He didn't mean to be quite neglectful, he only wished to not overwhelm you with his less-than-normal feelings of obsession towards you. He practically stalked you, despite the fact you two were married and expecting a child. The months passed, and Aemond would open up a bit more, showing bits of care and concern toward you in your fragile state. But even then, his actions seemed cold and his words curt. When your labors begin, Aemond remains in the hall outside the birthing room, despite wanting to rush to your side. He decided right then and there as he heard your screams of pain that he would no longer keep up this distant farce. He didn't care if you'd find his attentions odd, he just couldn't bear to torture himself or you any longer. Once he could hear the wails of a baby, he'd rush into the room to be greeted with the sight of two, small, and wailing babes laying on your chest. He'd come to your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he admired your newborn twins with a small smile. You felt hope for your marriage at that tender moment, the first hope you had felt in such a long time.

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Jacaerys loves you so much, he truly does, but sometimes you feel as though he puts his duties of being heir above you. He takes his role extremely seriously, as his mother's claim is already shaky due to her being a woman, and his even more so due to the concerns of him being legitimate or not. He doesn't mean to neglect you, to dismiss your attempts at spending time with him, or to hardly inquire about his babe that grows within you. By the time he notices, the damage is already done. You had given up any attempts to spend time with him, to conversate with him, or to merely be in his presence. It seemed to you that he put his duty before you, and you couldn't see how you could change that. Honestly, Jace is so sweet I can't imagine him not immediately coming to you and apologizing immensely for being an inattentive husband, so for the sake of this, let us imagine he finally realizes the effect his actions have on you by the time you are in the midst of your labors. He'd be pacing outside the birthing room, mentally chastising himself for being so foolish. How could he have ever been so stupid to leave you alone when you needed him most? How could he be so cruel to the one he loved most? Your muffled screams of pain from beyond the door shattered his heart even more, and all he could do was wait in borderline painful anticipation. When the maester does let him in the room, he rushes to your side. He apologizes immensely, kissing your tears away and brushing the hair that sticks to your sweaty face out of the way. When he holds the twins for the first time, you watch him adoringly. Everything seemed right again.

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Ser Criston didn't get to see you much. You two were wedded in secret, as due to his vows as a member of the King's Guard, he wasn't allowed to wed or father children. You were a common girl, living in the city, and Ser Criston spent his days and nights at the Red Keep. He could only visit you on his rare days off, and even then those were kept brisk due to his paranoia someone would discover you. You had always tried your best to be understanding, after all, you knew what you were getting into by being romantically involved with a member of the King's Guard. But an awful thought would always linger in your mind whenever you would see Ser Criston: did he regret marrying you? The thought would persist, never leaving like some parasite that had latched onto you. In fact, as the months passed and your stomach swelled with his child, it only grew. He looked uneasy every time he'd stare too long at your pregnant belly, only feeding that awful thought in the back of your mind. Sometimes, you would even find yourself questioning your marriage to him, doubting it all. Your marriage grew tense, and though none of you voiced these feelings, it was evident the doubts festered within both of you. The day Ser Criston visited you after you had brought his twins into the world, he looked shocked. The color seemed to drain from his face, as he saw them. Not one, but two, living breathing children, evidence he had broken his vows. But the heartbroken expression on your face as you held back tears slapped him back into reality. He would quickly kneel by your side, whispering to you how he loved you and the babes more than anything, and that he regretted nothing. When he finally holds the babes, his smile was so genuine, and his eyes were filled with nothing but love. At that moment, those awful doubts faded from your mind, never to be thought of again.

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Daemon longed for battle. He loved you dearly, and so desperately wanted to stay put with you and your unborn babe. But when the fighting in the Stepstones had begun, and the perfect opportunity to spite his brother for refusing to name him heir arose, he couldn't resist. You had begged him to stay, far too worried for the peril he would most certainly face during battle, and fearing for his life. He brushed you off, leaving you behind.

You spent your nights alone, praying to the Seven to keep your lord husband safe so that your child would have a father. He barely wrote to you, and you found yourself getting more and more frustrated at him for leaving you and your child behind to participate in some war that didn't concern him that much. And it wasn't like he wanted to help for some noble cause, you knew he only joined to spite his brother. Instead of spending the remainder of your pregnancy happy with the notion of your child growing within you, you spent it crying tears of anger and sadness.

When Daemon first hears word from a messenger that you had given birth to healthy twins, he abandoned his petty attempts to establish his own kingdom to spite the king. He would return to you as fast as he could, proud that you had given him two strong and healthy heirs. Daemon wasn't the best at saying apologies and preferred to show them through actions. The Stepstones could wait, all he needed right now was to be with you and the newborn twins.

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when that 3am inspiration pulls you out of your sixth month hiatus 😍

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #aegon ii targaryen x reader #yandere aegon targaryen x reader #yandere aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #yandere aemond targaryen x reader #yandere aemond targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #yandere jace velaryon #yandere jacaerys velaryon x reader #ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole #yandere ser criston cole #daemon targeryen x reader #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #yandere daemon targaryen

[milliesdiary]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 — 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; you get injured one day and your self-proclaimed "rival" has a problem with it.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; rhaenyra, daemon, alicent, jace, aemond, aegon

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; "who did this to you?" trope, blood, kind of gory (?), fluff. female reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; this piece was based on this request! also i just had to use that line alicent said to aegon in that one scene... it was too fitting omg. enjoy :)

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀

you and rhaenyra have always had a rocky friendship. sometimes there was an unspoken sort of distaste, one that neither of you had a reason for; your views just did not align, and you did not agree on how certain events had been handled in the past. as these disagreements grew, so did the rift between you. but as a vital part of house targaryen, you remained there for years despite the hardships and helped her with tedious tasks. whenever you spoke with the princess, your words were clipped, short, and to the point: something you are sure rhaenyra appreciated as well. you assumed she hated you, and accepted this way of life — until the second you got hurt. 

you’d been watching ser criston training the boys in the courtyard, and on accident, a sword managed to get too close and sliced right into your forearm. the second you rush into the palace with a knight behind you — a palm clutching the wound to stop the blood from dripping onto the expensive flooring — has rhaenyra reeling from her place on the sofa. you expect her to grab someone, but instead she’s rushing up to you, an unknown emotion swirling in her light eyes. “dear gods,” rhaenyra whispers lowly, taking your wrist in one of her hands to inspect the damage, calling down the hallway for a maester to bring a cloth. when she locks her gaze with yours, you see it: worry. “what happened? who is responsible for this?” rhaenyra asks, her lips drawn into a taught line and lightly shaking your arm with every word. the second you tell her, she’s screwing up her face in both indignation and annoyance. “i must admit,” rhaenyra mutters, grabbing a cloth from a shocked servant woman and tugging you along to where you presume you’ll be getting medical attention. “i am sick of his incompetence.” when you lift your eyes to stare at her in wonder, you find that she’s already focused on you. with a sigh, she lifts her chin to look ahead, her steps down the hallway resolute and grip on your wrist secure. “at least we will have a scar to match,” rhaenyra murmurs, and her attempt to lift the mood is successful. the moment you smile at her, she’s doing the same. it’s warm. it speaks volumes: all those years spent together weren’t a waste. 

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍

you and daemon never got along. perhaps it was his attitude that made your hackles rise, or his brash way of speaking that had you prickling with annoyance. either way, the prince was constantly antagonizing you. to your chagrin, you surrendered yourself to a world of teasing; however, things changed when you accidentally took a hard fall onto the floor, thanks to aemond and aegon rushing through the palace in a quarrel and knocking you down.

you make your way down a long stretch of hallway, waving away the boys’ apologies and trying to ignore the blood dripping down your knee under your dress. searching for your chambers with a wince falling from your lips, you presumed you were alone: but there daemon was of course, walking the opposite direction. he at first gives the slightest of smirks in your direction, though it falls when he catches sight of you limping. daemon stops in his tracks, eyeing you with that razor-sharp gaze of his. “what happened?” he questions coolly. before you can even say anything, daemon is sauntering over and aggressively lifting the hem of your dress. you make a surprised noise, one that he ignores, and clicks his tongue when he sees a chunk of skin missing from your knee. “and which inept cunt did this?” his voice rumbles, tone interweaved with venom and... anger?

it’s a reaction you weren’t expecting, and he knows it the second you stare at him in silence, mouth gaping open. a servant stops and gasps at your wound, turning to grab someone, but daemon stops her with his stern voice. “i’ll take care of it,” he barks out, before placing a protective hand around your waist and guiding you down the hall. his grip on you is tight, and you swear you see a slight quirk of his lips when he speaks. “the moment you are bandaged,” daemon says, voice deep yet almost a whisper. “i will have the head of whoever did this. and you are going to tell me.”

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

you both had been friends at some point, but after you got into a fight with her father, it ended abruptly. from then on, you always butted heads in some way. still, both of you always tried to keep any sort of conversation between one another civil. it could be awkward, though, having to talk with her at meetings and avoiding eye contact throughout the day, or being in each other’s company without a single word spoken. so once you cut your finger on a blade after trying to rid a loose string from your dress, and alicent enters the room as you cover the cut in a cloth, you’re surprised to find that her brows are knitted together in concern. the gasp that falls from her mouth when she notices the red, raw slice on the tips of your fingers is loud — you swear she almost steals all the oxygen in the room.

in almost a motherly instinct, the queen rushes over, her green gown swishing behind her like a silk scarf. alicent takes your hand in her own before her focus flashes up to you. by the way her dark gaze flies over your face, you can tell she’s trying to analyze your expression, to gauge your pain level. “are you alright?” her hands quickly find themselves upon your shoulders and she aligns her face to yours so you look her dead in the eye. “who did this? was it jacaerys? lucerys?” she questions angrily, voice coming out fast and harsh once she mentions the boys names.

you tell her what happened, and her face softens a bit, the crease between her brows softening. “i thought you hated me,” you whisper as alicent takes a peek under the cloth, assessing the damage. the words has her head shooting up to stare at you; she appears shocked. after a few beats of silence, the woman’s hand comes to rest on your cheek and her lips twitch into the smallest of smiles — something you haven’t seen in a long time. it’s filled with something akin to friendship. no, stronger than that. love. “you imbecile.” 

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄

some sort of rivalry settled itself between you and jace as children. you both always competed with each other in almost every aspect; sword-fighting, your training, studying for the septa, literally anything. your chats were full of sarcastic remarks and rebuttals, along with stares of jealousy and frowns from losses.

when ser criston goes too hard on you training, however — knocking you down and causing your head to hit the ground — a hatred grows deep into his gut. his temper is a copy and paste of both his parents: upon seeing you sit up with a groan, he is placed into a chokehold by a force that’s scarlet, scorching, and nearly agonizing. it’s one of those rages that make your chest ache, almost as if your heart has been used as a pin-cushion. “is this what you do?!” jace spits, stepping between you and ser criston cole, glaring at the older man with fiery eyes akin to raging flame. “place harm upon your pupils?” he's upset, his voice much heavier to match the intensity of his furrowed brows and pinched gaze. it’s not the first time ser criston has gotten too heavy-handed with a sword or words: he has seen him egging aemond on to mercilessly beat luke in a practice duel. he’s ushered away by ser harwin, but you’re surprised when he holds his hand out to you to help you up. for some reason, you take it, and it feels right. jace’s palm leaves yours only to land on your shoulder as he leads you out of the courtyard; he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, it seems. in an effort to contain his fury, he scoffs and shakes his head mockingly.

“what a farse,” he grumbles, coming to a sudden stop: his gaze settles on you, and his words are suddenly soft. “is your head alright?” those lovely eyes of his bore into yours, crowned by brunette wisps of lashes as he awaits a response. when you nod, he forces a tight grin and takes you by the hand. he looks a little sheepish as he does it. embarrassed even. maybe jace didn’t hate you as much as you thought he did. maybe he didn’t hate you at all.

𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

similar to jace, there sits a rivalry between you and aemond. it started when you were younger — two children fighting to prove their worth — and sat with you until adulthood. while you did talk, your conversations were mostly teasing and emotionally provoking. he angered you in plenty of ways, doing little things he knew would be annoying: giving hidden smirks while walking by, jesting, throwing small insults here and there. naturally, you would have thought aemond holds an ill-will toward you. that being said, when you got hurt during a practice sparring match and escorted into the castle by a knight, aemond catches sight of you. having one eye has forced him to become more perceptive, more wary — so it isn’t difficult for him to see how you try to cover up the crimson-red seeping from a cut your palm. you don’t even realize he’s there until you hear the knight address him, and then you turn and aemond is at your side.

without even asking, his large hand is grabbing harshly at your arm to steal a glance at the wound. “gotten yourself into trouble, have you?” comes aemond’s voice. you instantly snatch your hand back, giving him a confused stare, and he returns it with a cool look of his own. something deep and primal has been lit within him; you can see it, and the knight can certainly see it as well, judging by how they decide to remain distant behind you. with a quiet rage in his eye (we KNOW aemond can give off the scariest silent wrath) he orders, “tell me; who is it from?” you try to explain it was an accident, but aemond is not having it. your rivalry has been about one-upping the other and making each other’s lives more difficult, so you’re stunned that he even gives a shit. “whoever dared to lay a single hand on you,” aemond says lowly, tone graced with deadly contempt, “will not live to see my brother crowned.”

you just gape at him with those pretty eyes of yours, puzzled, and aemond offers you a sly smirk. he says nothing else, but his body language holds the unspoken words: i will destroy them in every way i know how. aemond detaches himself from your orbit, walking away on a mission to find out the assailant. he knows you wouldn’t tell him, so “justice,” in his mind, needs to be served by his own hand.

𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍

like rhaenyra, aegon’s distaste toward you comes from differing viewpoints. he finds your beliefs annoying — who says he can’t sleep with any maiden he can get his hands on? who cares if he gets drunk and lazes around? he just can’t fucking stand how intrusive you can be when it comes to his choices, so he avoids you whenever possible. sometimes you end up in the same room, sharing glances at one another, but not speaking much besides uttering each other’s titles in greeting. you manage to treat him well though; you make sure the servants remember to make his bed, have him eat properly, and even send him wine despite disagreeing with his drinking tendencies. still, he struggles to be in the same room with you — and you with him. you’re just being nice toward your future king, and even if it kills you, it may be worth it in the long run. besides, it’s not like he cares about you anyway. thus, you don’t think much of it when a hand-maiden bumps into you and knocks hot tea onto your neck, scalding the skin there. it leaves a blistering burn, one that you can’t hide.

when you are collecting the empty goblets from aegon’s room shortly after, he walks in; you can tell he’s ready to shoo you away, to tell you he does not have to be mulled over… but he stops himself after seeing the peeling red blotch on your throat. quick to judge, aegon’s face screws up in resentment and he takes multiple heavy steps to stand in front of you. “what is this?” he asks, staring at you with a frown until you explain.

“that whore,” aegon almost growls, taking a steadying breath before looking toward the door. “i ought to find her. teach her that she will get what she deserves.” when you grab him by the elbow and tell him it doesn’t matter, aegon rips his arm from your grasp and shakes his head, stark-white hair waving about his face; no one shall bring any sort of harm down on you — because unbeknownst to you, and perhaps even aegon, you’ve made a home in that heart of his. although he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s claimed you as his woman. “this is bordering on treason,” he states angrily. then, after shooting you a softer look, he snatches you by the arm to draw you close. “these commoners will have to learn not to toy with me. or my playthings.”

#house of the dragon #daemon targeryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #jace targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #aemond x reader #rhaenyra x reader #alicent x reader #jace x reader #aegon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #hotd imagines #house of the dragon fanfic #millie’s works — 📓

[mypoisonedvine]

semi-human nature {alpha!aemond targaryen x omega!reader x alpha!daemon targaryen}

{summary} a visit to king's landing goes awry when you go into your first heat— unaware not only that you are an omega, but also that your uncle and stepfather are alphas.

{word count} 6.7k

{warnings} smut (a/b/o standards like heat, breeding, knotting, all that good stuff; kinda dubcon because the reader doesn't totally understand what's happening at first), incest and stepcest (the reader is rhaenyra's daughter making her daemon's stepdaughter and aemond's niece), virginity loss, kinda painful sex/pain kink near the end, threesome, oral m receiving, spitroast, discussions of pregnancy, infidelity (daemon is married to rhaenyra), basically no plot just filthiness

Your visits to King's Landing were far too rare for your tastes. You didn't mind that Dragonstone was your home, it was beautiful there and you and your brothers found plenty to do and see— but you missed the old castle at times, missed the adventure and mystery there. Most of all, you missed your extended family. Though, really, you only missed some very specific members of it.

Firstly, you missed your Aunt Helaena, because she'd always been kind to you and taught you some things when you were a girl— like how to braid hair and how to play her flute (but you were never very good at either). Secondly, and much more, you missed your Uncle Aemond. As cunning and cold as he could be to others, he tended to be sweet with you, as long as you could remember. The older you both got, the more you started to feel more than a friendly, or familial, connection with him— your girlish daydreams sometimes drifted to what it would be like if you married him someday, but you figured that would never happen with the growing animosity between your family and his. Still, when he smiled at you, or when he kissed your head the tender way he did, you couldn't help but hope he felt as you did.

But you loved your family here, of course— your mother was sweet to you, as her only daughter, and your stepfather Daemon loved you as his own. (Some cast a suspicious eye at the two of you, thinking maybe he loved you more than his own… but he was just affectionate, that’s all.)

In fact, he was being characteristically tender with you as you approached King’s Landing, rubbing your arm reassuringly until you smiled up at him. “I’m sure you’re the happiest of any of us to be here,” he told you with a smirk.

“You aren’t happy to see your brother?” you pressed, but he never answered. Your conversation was interrupted by the end of the journey being reached; they were waiting in the courtyard for you, and even though there was a tension in the air between everyone, you couldn’t help but smile shyly at Aemond. He looked back at you, the smallest curl growing on his lips, and your heart fluttered.

For now, you had to behave calmly and politely. But as soon as dinner preparations had begun and everyone had separated to manage individual matters, you ran through the castle to find Aemond in his chambers— and flung yourself into his arms with a squeal of delight.

He hugged you in return, though he tried to soothe you as he laughed softly at your excitement. “It hasn’t been so long, has it, niece?” he asked with a smirk— so smug about the way you clearly had missed him.

“You missed me too, didn’t you?” you sighed, pulling back to look up at his face; he wore the softest smile for you— his one eye sparkled brighter than the sapphire when he looked at you, you swore it, and you were glad you caught him without his patch to hide behind.

“Of course, sweet girl,” he promised. “My— you’ve grown, haven’t you? Weren’t you a little girl last you visited? And now I’ve got a woman in my arms.”

You flushed with warmth in your face and chest when he spoke like that— you felt most like a woman in his arms, anyway, even though your stepfather had commented more than once as well on your development as of late. “You act like I’m so much younger than you, Aemond,” you mumbled shyly. Somehow, you felt most like a woman when he held you; and, even more strangely, most like that little girl he remembered when he looked at you like that.

The embrace was cut short when you felt that dizzy feeling again, your eyes blinking quickly and the heat of your flush growing almost unbearable for a moment. “Are you alright?” he asked, seeing your dazed reaction.

“Y-yes, I’m— this happens,” you mumbled, trying to find your balance again as he stepped forward to keep you from falling. “Fainting spells— w-well, except I don’t faint… I just feel strange.”

He narrowed his eye, looking you up and down. “Strange?”

“Hot,” you whispered, throat a little dry— suddenly you could smell him, and he smelled perfect: it reminded you of snow-covered pine, icy and sturdy just like him. Why couldn’t you smell that before?

He pressed his hand to your forehead, and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering. The heat just seemed to spread all over you, and your head spun as your knees went a little weak. “How long has this been going on? Do your parents know?” he asked quickly.

You struggled to keep your thoughts in order enough to answer, a cramp hitting your gut all of a sudden— that had happened before, too, but the episodes never lasted this long before… which was why you hadn’t told your parents, it didn’t seem notable at the time. Now, of course, as pain twisted inside you, you regretted that. “J-just… just a few…” you tried to respond, but then you couldn’t even remember how many days it had been. All you could remember was this moment, and you reached up to clutch at his shoulders. You swore you heard him growl as he pulled you into him, and the noise made a shiver run through your body.

“I think you may be— fuck,” he interrupted himself, and you felt his nose brush against the side of your face as he breathed in deeply beside your neck. You were so soothed by his touch that you didn’t even really consider how bizarre it was that he buried his face there, smelling and tasting your skin. “You’re presenting— poor thing, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t know what that meant, but yes, it hurt; you whined as you nodded, making weak fists that tugged on his leather tunic.

“I can help you,” he promised, “I can take that pain away.”

“Uncle,” you whimpered, “please— help me, please, I don’t understand what’s hap—”

“Shh, sweet girl,” he cooed softly, “you’ll be alright— it’s all well, I’m here now… I’ll help you, omega.”

Your eyebrows knitted— you weren’t sure you heard him right… omega? Maybe it was a Valyrian word you hadn’t heard before? You’d always daydreamed during your lessons as a child, and you certainly were less fluent than your uncle Aemond.

“All you have to do is as you’re told,” he instructed. “Do what I say and I’ll take care of you.”

“Please,” you whined again, another cramp in your core hitting— and with it, a heat between your legs that you realised with distant shame was wetness flooding you. He took a deep breath in and groaned, suddenly pulling you with him across the room. You didn’t realise he was taking you to the bed until you felt it under your back.

“I can help you,” he said again, kissing all over your flushed face as you clutched at him desperately. His hands started to slide up under your dress and pet your legs which spread wide for him instinctively, your hips shaking as more slick leaked from your opening. “Your Alpha’s here, my darling…”

Before you could even consider asking what any of this meant— you were so needy, you might just let it all happen regardless— Daemon burst in the room.

“Fuck,” he blurted out when he saw you writhing on the bed while Aemond touched you. “Is she really—? I can smell her from across the courtyard, fuck, so sweet…”

“Leave us, Uncle,” Aemond ordered instantly, “she’s mine.”

“She’s my daughter, I should be the one to help her,” Daemon sneered. He crossed the room and approached the bed as Aemond held you tighter, defensively.

“She’s not your daughter,” Aemond scoffed, “she’s your wife’s bastard— and she’ll be my omega.”

Daemon shoved his nephew off of you with a growl, making you whimper. “Please— please…” was all you could say. You weren’t even sure what that sentence would be if you had the ability to finish: please don’t fight, perhaps, or please touch me.

“I should claim her,” Daemon insisted, descending on you next with a sweet purr. “Don’t you want Papa to help you now?”

You whined in confusion, one hand shakily reaching up to hold onto your stepfather’s shoulder— but the other found Aemond’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Let her decide,” Aemond decided, knowing you were so affectionate for him— Daemon might agree to that measure, thinking you would choose your stepfather first, if he thought you understood what was being asked of you.

“She can’t decide now,” Daemon hissed, “she’s presenting, she’s delirious— and she doesn’t even know what she is!”

“She doesn’t—?!” Aemond repeated, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between you two. “You never taught her? You never told her—!”

“We didn’t know!” Daemon defended. “We thought— everyone thought Rhaenyra would be an omega, as pure as she is, but she never presented… we just assumed—”

“How deprived you were, niece,” Aemond cooed at you, stroking your arm. “Your mother never taught you about us— about how special our family really is, that you might be—”

“What am I?” you whimpered, shaking, looking up at your uncle with teary eyes. He held your face and pet your cheek gently, but there was a rageful hunger in his eye like you’d never seen.

“You’re mine,” he answered.

“Ours,” Daemon corrected. “She’ll belong to both of us.”

Even though you still barely had any idea what was going on, you knew how dangerous of a proposition that was. Neither your uncle nor stepfather were ones for sharing…

Though he snarled in chagrin, Aemond was nodding as he pulled you into him again. “We’ll both help you, all right?” he prompted you quietly. “Your stepfather and I— we can both help you. You just have to do as you’re told…”

“Please,” you repeated weakly; you were carried to the bed and all but thrown onto it, a moment later feeling Daemon’s hands help undress you right away.

“I want her first,” Aemond informed Daemon firmly.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this, boy?” Daemon snapped, making his nephew laugh coldly.

“What a naughty Papa you are,” he smirked. “Will your wife approve of you fucking her daughter?”

“Wh-what?!” you choked. “What… what will you do to me?”

Daemon growled in the back of his throat as your dress was torn away, and you felt two pairs of hands run all over your bare skin as Aemond pulled you to lay on him. “As your uncle told you,” Daemon answered, “we’ll help you.”

Did they have to be so fucking cryptic all the time?!

“I’m having her first,” Aemond insisted again, “I found her first. You’ll have your turn.”

He helped you to straddle his lap, reaching down to quickly free himself from his trousers with a sigh; your legs were shaking already, and you jolted when you felt him press his cock up to your opening.

“U-Uncle,” you whimpered, “are you— will we really—?”

“Haven’t you wanted this, sweet girl?” Aemond whispered in your ear. “Don’t you want me to fill you?”

Though you whined before you let yourself admit it, you nodded. “Yes,” you choked, “yes— I wanted this.”

Aemond gave his uncle a little smirk, admiring the look on Daemon’s face— some impossible, forbidden mix of a jealous lover and a disapproving father. Apparently, he thought his stepdaughter was more loyal, and wouldn’t fall for her uncle sat so firmly on the other side of political lines. But love is funny like that— especially where Targaryens are involved.

“Call me your Alpha,” Aemond instructed in a low groan by your ear, struggling to resist his instinct to simply take you without any more delay— he’d been fighting his desire the second he first smelled you, not wanting to rush it too much, but both men were overcome with the need to be inside you as you shuddered and whimpered.

“Alpha,” you whispered back, feeling a pull to obey much more than usual when he spoke to you this way. “My Alpha…”

He pulled your hips down, sliding his cock inside you all at once. His head fell back as your hips rested on his; you cried loudly, feeling a sharp stretch— but more than pain, much more, there was pleasure, relief, and satisfaction. You went totally limp in his arms and let him guide you to grind your hips just as he liked; “Fuck,” he panted, “you’re even more perfect than I ever— ah— ever imagined, dear niece— sweet omega…”

“Uncle,” you sobbed, clinging onto him tightly. He was right— the pain had gone, for the most part, now all you had was this need for more… for everything. Even though you were so weak and helpless, you found yourself able to move on top of him, bouncing up and down in his lap to find some more of that impossibly-perfect friction; he watched you with pride and lust in his smile. “Aemond, it feels— oh…”

“It feels right,” he finished for you, “doesn’t it?”

You nodded in agreement, shivering when you realised the fingers ghosting up and down your spine were your stepfather’s. “How does she feel?” he asked in a rough voice that would’ve been terrifying if you didn’t trust him completely.

“Hot,” Aemond answered quickly. “So hot inside— she really is a dragon.”

They both laughed a little, though it wasn’t because it was funny— it was a specific emotion you’d never seen on either of them until now. Daemon leaned in and kissed the back of your neck, making you gasp and whine and lean back into his arms as you kept riding Aemond dutifully; Aemond hissed slightly, digging his fingers into your hips.

“She… she tensed up on me when you kissed her there,” Aemond said with a gasp. “Fuck— I didn’t know she could get any tighter…”

“Beautiful,” Daemon praised you in a mumble against your skin, fingers now exploring more as he lightly tickled your sides and teased your breasts. “Are you being good for him, omega? Taking care of your uncle as you should?”

You gasped and nodded, eyes heavy and wet. “Yes— yes, Papa…”

He hummed deeply, properly groping your chest now as he licked your neck, even nipping at it with his teeth to make you tighten inside again and again. “F-fuck,” Aemond choked, “I won’t— I can’t take much more of that, she’s so— she’s perfect, you can’t imagine how perfect—”

“I don’t have to,” Daemon growled, pulling you off of Aemond who whimpered and begged to have you back— but the older man was well past the limit of his patience, snarling as he positioned you onto your hands and knees. He held your shoulder to keep you steady, hard cock flexing at the way you hung your head in submission and turned just enough to look back at him innocently over your shoulder. He smiled as you as he gripped himself inside his trousers, silently praying for the patience not to tear you open as soon as he could. Yes, you were his omega, and his stepdaughter— his property in more ways than one— but he would prefer not to hurt you, and his instincts were fighting against his logical mind in that regard.

When he exposed himself, he saw you trying to look— trying to see if your Papa’s cock would break you, and he just chuckled slightly to himself.

“You’ll be able to take it,” he promised roughly, “you’re made to take it.”

He lined himself up, knocking your knees further apart with his own before plunging inside with a long sigh. You cried again but pushed back against him, too; your hands still clung weakly onto your uncle, who soothed you and kissed your tears away encouragingly.

“You were right,” Daemon sighed, electing to just hold you still and stay buried as deep as he could go for a moment. “She’s— fuck.”

Aemond took one of your hands from his shoulder and guided it down to his cock, still soaked from your slick; he guided you to stroke it with your shaking fingers, whispering filthy praises in your ear while Daemon fucked you slowly (at first). “You have to take care of both of us,” your uncle reminded you. “Gods, you smell so sweet… I could smell you from across the hall, that’s how I found you— I knew you needed me, needed an Alpha to breed you.”

“I… I don’t understand…” you mumbled, gasping as your stepfather picked up his pace and fucked you more roughly.

“We should tell her now,” Daemon decided. “Well, you should— I’m quite busy already— fuck, so tight…”

“Would you like me to tell you everything, sweet girl?” Aemond asked you, tightening your grip on his cock when you nodded. “Just keep— keep stroking me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “anything…”

“Our family is very special,” Aemond explained to you— which you already knew, but clearly there was more to it than you were taught. “There’s a reason we keep to our own, protect our bloodline: some of us are… gifted. Like your stepfather and I.”

“Like you,” Daemon added, though he was struggling to focus on any conversation as he used you.

“I always knew you were meant for more, my lovely niece,” Aemond cooed, though his nostrils flared for a moment as he moved your hand to wank him faster. “And you are— meant to give us a new branch of the family, purer than any that came before…”

Even with your mind still clouded with desperation, you knew how you were expected to do that. “You’ll— you’ll get me pregnant?” you realised with a shaky gasp.

Aemond nodded, smiling as he kissed your face. “Don’t worry— it won’t be as difficult for you as it was for your mother. She’s not like us, she’s… weaker.”

“They all are,” Daemon added, in defence of his wife. “It’s been generations since an omega was born to us.. even in as pure a family as ours, it’s rare— only your uncle and I are Alphas.”

“It makes you much more fertile,” Aemond continued, “it makes us need to care for you— with our bloodline, there’s a small chance any of us could be like this… but our children, with both their parents being this way, they’ll all be gifted in the same way. Think of the generations we’ll sire, and it all starts tonight…”

Clearly, he was excited by the prospect of keeping you bred for years to come, creating a new line of Targaryens guaranteed with these ‘gifts’ of fertility and instinct… well, you weren’t quite as keen. Even as your body longed for the promise of being impregnated, your mind filled with fear. “I— what if I can’t—?” you started to wonder.

“You will,” Aemond promised, without even knowing what concerned you— because he didn’t have to. “You can do anything, omega, you’ll do anything for your Alphas. It’s your nature; you obey.”

Just as he said it, Daemon thrust especially roughly into you and made you quiver. A pleasure began to build in your gut, heavy and hot, while your stepfather let go of all pretence and fucked you with all the passion and possessiveness he’d been holding back for years. He bent down over you and gave open-mouthed kisses to your back, making you feel small in his grasp and feeling the heat of every moan and sigh spread over your skin. “So perfect,” he said again, “it’s better than anything— you really were made for pleasure, weren’t you, omega?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Aemond sneered at his uncle. “I think it’s time for my turn again.”

“You can have your turn after I’ve knotted her,” Daemon decided.

Aemond grabbed you angrily, pulling you forward and slipping Daemon’s cock out of you— both of you reacting in disappointment.

“Your knot? Please,” Aemond scoffed, “that could take hours— I need her now.”

“So do I,” Daemon insisted, but Aemond was determined to get inside you again. Breathing through his teeth, he pushed his cock back into you roughly, guiding your hips to make sure he filled you to the very brim. Shivering, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him fuck into you, accepting that it was better to let them do whatever they liked with you and just hope you didn’t get ripped to shreds in their fight over you.

“So beautiful,” Aemond sighed just before he kissed you on the lips— you let your mouth go slack right away, offering it for him to claim as well; his kiss was filthy and hungry and desperate, making you moan and whimper his name helplessly as he fucked you harder and harder.

“Don’t make me watch this,” Daemon pleaded with a whine, easily the most pathetic you’d ever heard him sound. “I need— fuck, she smells so good…”

“You can fuck her again,” Aemond promised, only breaking away from the kiss long enough to speak, “when I’m done.”

“When you’re done?” Daemon realised. “You’re going to knot her, aren’t you? Fucking bastard.”

Of course, the only thing that could make Aemond stop kissing you was a chance to argue with your stepfather. “I wouldn’t speak of bastards if I were you, Uncle,” Aemond taunted. “Let her use her hand on you while you wait.”

“Hand? I have much greater ideas than that,” Daemon informed you both proudly. He moved around from his place behind you, kneeling beside where Aemond laid so he could pull you away from the kiss and push his cock up to your face. “Use your mouth, omega— stick your tongue out for me.”

Doing as you were told, you whimpered slightly as he slid the fat head of his cock over your waiting tongue.

“Good,” he praised, staring down at you and petting your hair soothingly. “You do so well for us both, darling— now close your lips on it. Suckle on it, not too hard— fuck, fuck, how perfect you are…”

“I don’t especially care for your bollocks in my face, Uncle,” Aemond frowned.

“Lean away,” Daemon offered, not exactly sympathetic to the issue when he was so focused on the warmth of your mouth on his cock.

“I can’t! Your knee is on my hair!” Aemond snapped, and Daemon finally moved enough for Aemond to yank his head away with a grimace.

“You see why I keep mine shorter now,” Daemon chuckled.

“I doubt that’s exactly why,” Aemond rolled his eyes, but knowing how perverse his uncle could be, he almost worried that he actually had found himself on the other end of the same issue before.

“My apologies,” Daemon offered in a mumble, but Aemond clearly wasn’t going to hold a grudge— he was moaning again already, holding your hips so he could buck up into you, kissing all along your opposite shoulder while your stepfather pushed his cock deeper into your mouth.

In fact, he kept sliding his thick shaft between your swollen lips until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat, making you gag. You wanted to apologise, but you didn’t for two reasons: one, your mouth was full; two, Daemon only moaned louder, praising you again. In fact, he kept making you gag over and over until a tear ran down your cheek. “Let her breathe,” Aemond ordered, sounding almost hurt with how worried he was for you.

Daemon pulled out of your mouth to let you gasp and sputter, Aemond holding your face and kissing it repeatedly to try to soothe you. “I-I’m alright,” you promised, “let me try again, please, Papa—”

Daemon grinned darkly as he pushed his cock back up to your lips.

“You’re too sweet, omega— you want so much to please your Alphas, I know.”

“Don’t go so hard on her,” Aemond warned, “you know if you hurt her at all, it will be hard not to kill you.”

Daemon was more amused than concerned by the threat, but he knew his nephew was right— not just about the way Alphas would defend their mates instinctively (Daemon understood that instinct firsthand, it was how poor Vaemond met his end), but about the fact that he should be gentler with you. You weren’t one of his whores, you were his sweet daughter and a new omega— you needed to be treated with care. But it was almost impossible to keep calm in a time like this. “You should know how difficult it is to hold myself back,” Daemon sighed, “having to smell her and see her and listen to her— her mouth isn’t enough, I need her cunt.”

"Well, so do I," Aemond countered.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Daemon was stronger— and terribly impatient. He growled and yanked you off of Aemond, throwing you onto your back and roughly filling you again. You gasped, overwhelmed by being thrown back and forth between them, with never enough time for your body to get properly used to one or the other. It certainly felt different looking up at your stepfather as he fucked you, seeing him groan and bare his neck as he moved his hips quickly. "Papa," you gasped, properly accepting for the first time that it was your stepfather— your mother's husband, your great uncle— fucking you now. He smiled down at you, holding himself up by one hand as he touched your face with the other.

"Darling," he whispered, "you knew, didn't you? That I wanted you in this way?"

Honestly, you weren't sure— it all felt like a lifetime ago now; presenting as an omega was disrupting enough to your worldview, being claimed by your uncle and stepfather made it even more sure that this felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

"Daemon, everyone knew," Aemond assured. "You were never subtle."

You wanted to ask if your mother knew— but the pleasure kept you from speaking anything coherent, and the instincts controlling your body kept you from feeling any guilt. Like Aemond said, it just felt so right, so natural that you knew nothing about this could be wrong.

Aemond pulled you into another kiss, laying beside you and touching you anywhere he could reach— starting first with your breasts, which he broke away from your lips to latch onto next. You moaned loudly, feeling terrible sensitive with Aemond's tongue and lips teasing your hardened nipples. "How full these will be…" Aemond whispered reverently against your skin. "All your milk for our babies… you're incredible— our little omega, you'll carry so many beautiful Targaryens in you…"

You whimpered, reaching down to find Aemond's throbbing cock— he hissed as you gripped it, trying to stroke him the same way he'd guided you before. "I— I want to please you, Alpha…"

He groaned and smiled, coming back up to your lips again but holding your face so he could look at you closely. "I know, sweet girl— it's in your nature. You live to serve, don't you, omega?"

Whining slightly, you nodded, and he captured your mouth in another kiss.

The thrusts into you grew faster and more erratic, rocking your body as you gasped. Aemond's hand slipped down over your mound, finding your swollen bud and rubbing it as Daemon fucked you with ruthless intensity. It was too much: it made your back arch and your throat catch.

"Come, omega," Daemon ordered; helpless to his commands, you sucked in a gasp against Aemond's lips and felt another wave of hot slick leak from between your quivering legs. Both men groaned, and you swore you saw Aemond's eye go black as he took a deep inhale of your heady scent in the air.

"So obedient," Aemond observed, "I hadn't even known that omegas could come on command… what a talent."

There was this embarrassing squelching noise coming from where your stepfather drove his cock into you, your arousal coating his and your thighs as he held the back of your knees.

“Fuck!” Daemon grunted suddenly, and you struggled and whimpered as you felt his cock seem to swell— more and more, well past what you thought was possible, until you cried out from the fullness.

“Alpha!” you sobbed, hearing him snarl as he held your hips to keep you from trying to get away.

“Are you—?” Aemond realised, growling with jealousy. “Fuck, you’re breeding your own stepdaughter, you’re unforgivable…”

“It’s— fuck, just wait, nephew,” Daemon promised, still panting as more of his sticky come flooded inside you.

“I can’t wait,” Aemond whimpered, “I need to breed her, you know I need to—”

“It’ll be worth the wait,” Daemon assured, “it’s unlike anything— gods, she’s—”

He never finished any of those sentences, just moaning and continuing to pump his seed into you as he breathed heavily. “What’s happening?” you asked Aemond with a shaky whimper.

“Your Papa is filling you, omega,” he answered, petting your side as you shivered. “One of the ways we’re different— Alphas, we… we have something called a knot. It keeps us inside so you’ll never waste a drop of seed— but only omegas can fit something so large, we have to… make concessions, with other lovers.”

“We can never be… fully inside, when we finish,” Daemon panted, “or we’ll hurt them— could kill them, really. But you, you… you take it so well, omega, you take it perfectly… fuck!”

“I-it hurts, a little,” you admitted, trying not to move so you wouldn’t disturb the soreness inside you. “It’s— how is it so big?”

Daemon smirked proudly, holding onto you just as tightly though he’d finished spilling his seed already. He tilted his head back slightly first as he took deep and fast breaths, only to drop it forward limply as silver strands hung limply around his face.

"Fuck," Daemon sighed again, "I never could've imagined how it would feel… being so deep within you, that sweet cunt keeping my knot warm inside— darling, it's incredible."

He stroked your face approvingly as you sighed.

"You expect me to wait until it's gone down for my turn to feel that?" Aemond sneered.

"You don't have a choice," Daemon laughed, "you'll hurt her if you try to get her off now. You'll just have to find some patience."

The only instinct stronger than the need to breed was to protect you, and so Aemond snarled as he guided your hand to his aching cock once more as he waited his turn. You felt complete relief, for the first time since the headache began, as you felt Daemon's knot inside you. You didn't feel the same as you had before, though: you felt… better? In a sense. You felt complete. You felt accomplished, useful… needed.

Aemond groaned against your skin as he fucked your fist, kissing along your shoulder and collarbone. "Such a good omega— you'll take me next, won't you? You can satisfy us both, yes?"

"Yes, Alpha— anything, I'll do whatever I can," you promised, addicted already to how rewarding it felt to be good for them. They both smiled proudly.

"You used to be so stubborn," Daemon remembered. "So much changes when you present, doesn't it? Believe it or not, I was rather level-headed before I presented as an Alpha."

"I'll go with 'not'," Aemond decided.

Daemon didn’t notice or mind much what Aemond had said, too focused on looking down at where your leaking cunt managed to fit his knot— he was still amazed by it. He’d spent his whole life pulling out enough to keep the knot outside when he came (that is, when he could manage to finish at all), even though at times it took all his willpower to fight that instinct. It felt perfect to be inside you now— perfect in a way he’d never allowed himself to imagine before.

Aemond’s patience was well past worn; he forced your hand to wrap tightly around his aching cock, fucking your hand as he kissed you hard and whined against your lips. “Omega,” he panted, “even your hand is so divine— but I need to be inside you, I need to breed and fill you, please—”

“Not much longer,” Daemon promised, though he was clearly irritated. “It takes time, nephew.”

You could tell Aemond wanted to say something particularly catty in that moment— probably something about how it was impressive that Daemon could keep his knot at all at his age— but only a groan fell from his mouth as you squeezed his cock a little tighter. He guided your hand lower to rub gently over his balls, and you realised how desperate he really was when you felt how swollen they’d become, how tender they were as you barely touched them and he hissed in a breath. “Fuck,” he panted, “all that come will be inside you soon— I know how badly you need it, omega, to be bred by your uncle.”

You whimpered but nodded in agreement, letting him move your hand just how he liked so you could keep his hunger at bay.

As for you, the knot inside you brought you mostly back to reality— but a needy, desperate Alpha beside you kept your omega instincts in control even as some logical thought returned to your mind. That logic made you want to ask them a thousand questions, about what you were and what this all meant and what this would mean for your family… but you couldn’t, because Aemond never stopped kissing you long enough to let you speak. Not that you were exactly fighting to get a word in: you loved the way he kissed you, so you just melted into it and let him go on tasting your mouth while he stroked himself with your hand.

You couldn’t say how long it was before Daemon broke his silence, but however long it was, it went by quickly— for you. For Aemond, it was like a lifetime. “It’s small enough now,” Daemon decided. “You can finally have your turn, nephew— but I know you’ll miss me, little omega, when this pathetic boy is on top of you.”

“Gods, just hurry up,” Aemond choked, and Daemon sighed as he held your hips and unsheathed himself from you. The knot wasn't completely subsided, but it had shrunk significantly— enough for him to hiss as he carefully slid it out. You whimpered as the bulge of it tugged on your sore walls, and made a stinging pain hit your opening as it passed through. But, finally, you were empty… for a split second. Aemond wasted no time getting on top of you and guiding his leaking cock to your hole; he plunged in all at once, making you wince and yelp as you held onto his shoulders, but he ignored the pain he was inflicting and started to move already— he just couldn’t stop himself.

The sting was worth it, though, to hear his loud, satisfied moans; his voice was rougher and deeper than you’d ever heard it, filled with awe as he watched your body take him fully with every thrust. He wasn’t moving very quickly yet— faster than you were ready for, yes, but still savouring the feeling of you for himself.

“I hope she’s not too stretched out from my knot,” Daemon chuckled, obviously not genuine— he hoped his nephew could feel the difference, so he was silently disappointed when Aemond shook his head.

“She feels just as before,” Aemond breathed, “just as tight and warm— just as perfect, fuck, she really was made for this. I would never have taken another woman if I knew this was waiting for me— if I knew I could have an omega to breed someday.”

“I was under the impression you hadn’t taken other women,” Daemon laughed, “you certainly fuck like a virgin.”

“You ramble like a drunk,” Aemond sneered in reply, losing any interest in verbally sparring with his uncle as he started to move just a bit faster inside you. "Beautiful," he sighed as he leaned down, holding you close, kissing your tears away as he fucked your sore cunt as gently as he could manage. "So beautiful, my omega— you take me so well, even when it hurts you… you take your Alpha so well."

His praise made it all worth it, and soon enough the soreness was forgotten— as was his attempting to be careful with you; within a few minutes he was holding you tight and fucking into you ruthlessly, panting beside your face while he slammed his cock into the very end of your insides. Even still, even after hours of your Alphas taking turns with you, your body never stopped leaking slick for them, until Aemond was soaked in your heat— his cock, balls, thighs, even dripping down to the bed beneath you…

“It won’t be much longer now,” he warned. “You’ll be bred— my child in you, sweet girl, is that what you want? All that ache’s going to go away, once you’re good and pregnant, like you were meant to be.”

It sounded like everything you’d ever wanted; it called to your most primal desires and made pleasure course through your veins until your skin was alight with ecstasy. "Please, Alpha!" you sobbed, holding onto him tightly. "I want your knot! I want your baby…"

"Fuck," Aemond gasped, baring his neck to you as he thrusted faster, faster, faster— you were afraid you would go numb inside from the friction, heat building until it all collapsed; you twitched and jolted from the orgasm overtaking you, just as Aemond’s knot began to swell. You felt it, like you had with Daemon: the warm come flooding inside your spent cunt, and your eyes rolled back as you went limp. It hurt to take another knot, yes, but you were too exhausted to even react. You were too exhausted to even think, even though you had much to think about: like the fact that your uncle and stepfather had just claimed and taken you, bred you, both of them fully intending to have you with child soon. They’d have no way to tell whose child it was, would that even matter? Would your mother stay married to Daemon— would either of them, or both, take you as their wife? What would you say when, inevitably, questions arose?

None of those questions seemed to matter now… all you could think of was the man above you and inside you, the perfect expression of relief on his face as his knot kept growing inside you.

"O-oh," he choked, tightening his fist beside your head, "it feels so…"

"I know," Daemon smirked proudly. "It's unlike anything else, isn't it?"

Aemond nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath. "Omega… our perfect omega…"

Daemon leaned down to join in on the praise, petting your head as you let your heavy eyes fall shut. "You did so well for us both," he whispered to you. "You may rest now— you did beautifully, now rest…"

You weren’t able to drift to sleep until they were both holding you; Aemond still inside and surrounding you while Daemon gently lifted you to cradle you from behind, with his chest to your back. You should’ve felt confused, maybe guilty, maybe even disgusted as you reckoned with what you had done— what had been done to you. Instead, you only felt at peace, safe and satisfied. You were blessed with a gentle and dreamless sleep as your Alphas held you, still whispering to you sometimes— still discussing softly with each other what they would do next. From now on, you could leave the thinking and worrying to them, and just fulfil your natural purpose. It sounded nice, actually: lots of pure Targaryen babies, yours and Aemond’s and Daemon’s children, a strange but beautiful family.

For something you couldn’t have even imagined this morning, it seemed so obvious to you now… obvious, and sort of inevitable. Not that you minded; you were happy to be theirs.

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd fic

[saltywritings]

(in the still of the night | aemond targaryen x strong! reader)

summary: the reader and aemond reconnect at the red keep after years of being apart. it is here the both of you reconnect with the reemerging memories of when the both of you were young. memories in italics.

warnings: mentions of death and murder, betrothal, sexual tension but no smut, yet. cursing?

word count: 3,835 words.

authors note: i do hope you enjoy reading this as much as i have had writing it. please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you do enjoy. if this does well i will make a second part that will be absolutely filthy.

it was odd to you. the memories that flooded to you so clearly as you walked down the halls of the castle. eyes catching the stained glass windows of dragons, carefully moving up the stone steps as you did as a child. you remembered all the times you tripped down them, bruising your knees chasing after the young prince's. you remembered of how you ran down the halls hiding from them. you remembered sneaking out at night to the kitchens and eating cakes in the gardens under the light of the moon with aemond until your eldest brother dragged you back to your chambers.

yet, it was now as you remembered how close you and aemond had been as children. your eyes catching the garden from within the castle walls.

"y/n! y/n, wait up." aemond's voice rang in your head. nothing more than just a whisper as the two of your crept through the halls. aemond in his sleep shirt and you in your nightgown. if the two of you had not been children the situation would have been frowned upon, heavily. for you more than him considering your status as a lady.

you bare feet slowed as you looked behind you. waiting for an out of breath aemond to catch up. the targaryen prince had been holding a napkin, the cloth tied shut, and his fist holding the knot tightly. aemond took your hand in his own once he reached you, pulling you with him now through the halls and into the gardens. your feet ran against the soft grass and under the godswood. you sat beside the prince, as your little fingers fumbled with the tight knot. aemond helped you untie it and slid himself closer to you. the both of you side by side and your little fingers were pinching at the lemon cake.

"i stole this at dinner," aemond informed you as he shoved some of the cake in his mouth.

"did anyone see you?" you questioned softly, filling your own mouth as you did.

"just aegon-" aemond stopped himself. the boy remembered of how aegon called him a pig for taking more. though, he knew not of the nights that he shared with you, and aemond simply told his older brother to fuck off. "but he doesn't know." aemond assured you.

"good, your brother likes to make the worst of everything. doesn't he?" you remarked rather casually- but aemond had stopped eating. your dark eyes looking up now with regret in your own words. you had known how his brother and his nephews would torment him. aemond told you, here in the gardens, when the both of you were alone. "aemond-" your voice soft, your hand going to meet his again to comfort him.

what little comfort you felt you could offer. you hadn't known it now, but it was the only comfort aemond had ever known.

"it would be different if i too had a dragon." aemond defended himself, his eyes saddened and he looked down to his lap.

"dragons aren't everything, aemond. i don't have a dragon and i'm-" you were trying to comfort him, but the boy was quick to snap again.

"you wouldn't understand y/n- you're just a strong." aemond snapped at you. you closed your mouth and looked away, aemond quickly realizing his mistake in snapping at you and his hands grabbed at yours again. "no, no, y/n. i'm sorry. i didn't mean it in that way" he pleaded with you. his voice near begging you to turn to look at him. his fingers placed at your jaw as you turned to meet his eyes. "i'm a targaryen. we're dragon riders; all of them are but me. and- and its not fair" aemond eventually crumbled. you recalled as tears had begun to run from his eyes. aemond fell into your arms and wept.

"i'm sorry, aemond. i am." you whispered in an attempt to comfort him. your arms wrapped around the crying boy and help him close, he would sniffle and eventually pulled himself together.

"i wish i could take you on dragon back with me. so that way you would understand." aemond pleaded.

"maybe one day you will," you smiled to him and aemond smiled back to you at the very thought.

the sweet moment between the two of you was short lived, as your eldest brother harwin came storming into the garden. you barely had a moment to scramble to your feet before he grabbed onto your arm.

"y/n, how many times have i told you not to be sneaking out with the prince after dark?" harwin questioned you. your face went pale as his dark eyes peered into your own. "keep this up and i'll tell father you need to go back home. to harrenhal." he threatened. you began to resist him, began to plead, but aemond would have none of this.

"ser harwin strong. you will let lady y/n go. your prince demands it." aemond's voice was weak but he knew what to say. harwin, however, looked to the boy debating on what to do. "unhand her or i will tell my mother what you've done here on this night" aemond threatened again.,

harwin let go of your arm in a bit of a gruff, "the king wants the both of you in bed. go on your way or i will tell father, y/n." he demanded. the two of you would run off to your own chambers. but it was far from the last time the both of you had snuck out.

you were only a babe when your father brought you with him to the red keep. his first daughter, the product of his third wife. lyonel strong the newly appointed hand of the king had hoped that the court of the red keep would raise his daughter well. that you would grow in the mannerisms of a lady. lyonel thought this was be good for you. but if he had known of what was to happen he would have never allowed your mother to carry you past the door.

it was there in the red keep that you were raised closely with the kings own children as well as the princess's sons. the seven of you were only children, but even then the tensions had grown. even though you were only a girl you could see it. though, the turmoil's of your life had made you long forget the ones held at the court of the red keep.

your eyes stared at the godswood, reminiscing when you hear someone summon you.

"lady tyrell, it has been too long since you've last visited the red keep." you heard a voice call from behind you, lady tyrell a name you never really adjusted too. behind you was the sight of the queen.

"you grace," you bowed before her, queen alicent. "that it has been," you smiled to her softly.

"you're not with your husband?" she questioned you, her own hands brought together.

"no. lord tyrell is resting from the journey. he does not do well in far travels. even in the carriage." you insisted, giving her a smile to which alicent nodded in understanding.

"well, i do hope you get the chance to properly visit with aemond while you're here. i recall the two of you were good friends all those years ago." alicent spoke very matter of fact, but the mention of aemond was enough to make you smile.

"yes. i recall the same," you hummed. "where is the prince? i do hope our paths may cross before I retire with my husband." you questioned alicent who could not resist the smile that fell on her pale lips.

"aemond? he's off with vhagar, of course." alicent was practically musing.

you never got the privilege to see aemond on a dragon. you heard word at high garden when prince aemond lost his eyes. when he claimed vhagar as his dragon. there had never been a smile on your face like the one you had that day. though, you wished the letter would have been from aemond. for reasons that seemed obvious now aemond never wrote to you and you were never allowed to write to him.

perhaps it had been more obvious to everyone, but the both of you that the two of you were smitten over each other at a young age. perhaps it was the fact you were children, or perhaps it was that each of you lacked the confidence, but neither of you were able to see it yourself. aegon would constantly berate aemond every time he looked longingly in your direction. "can't you be more obvious? looking at y/n like she's a dragon. like looking at things you'll never have?" aegon would taunt constantly. he would get close to you. his hands wrapping around yours as you played just to bother his brother.

but you had never seen it. now, you could look back on your time together and the feeling in your chest grew warm. though the feeling was quickly snuffed out by the reminder of your station. a married woman. your husband was many years your successor and the two of you were yet to conceive a child after all these years together. your marriage to him felt like torture as the years passed on. he was never specifically cruel or vile towards you, not in the way that you heard stories of men hitting their wives or calling them names. but there had been no love in your marriage and you knew that you never would come to love him. for when you looked into his eyes all you could feel was loss. perhaps things could have been different had your father not betrothed you so young.

even that night as you laid next to your sleeping husband under the canopy you were unable to find sleep. you had hoped the journey would be enough to make you rest and yet? your eyes continued to look at the black silk of the canopy curtains. you stood from the bed, pulling on a robe to cover your nightgown, and quietly left the bedroom chambers. you walked along the torches through the halls you would sneak around when you were a child. there was an uneasiness about walking amongst the castle this late. part of you worried that harwin would be around the corner ready to scream at you to go back to your chambers. another part of you feared your own father may come to question why you were out of bed. though, you reminded yourself that was not possible. if anyone were to come for you here it would be larys. your last brother. the one who summoned you and your husband to the red keep in the first place.

it was a cruel thought to think. but you often thought of what your life would have become if your father would have died after your betrothal. if larys would have allowed you to stay there, with him at the red keep. it was a bitter thought. wishing he had been dead sooner, and yet? you thought it often. you didn't want to. in fact you tried not to think of nothing at all. your feet reached the open gardens and you paid no mind to the bitter air that attacked your exposed skin. you tried to look at the godswood, at the flowers in the moon light. anything to not think about your father or harwin. however, at the red keep again the thoughts felt impossible to keep away. you could not begin but to remember of how you cried the day that you found out your father had betrothed you after lord tyrell's first wife had passed. you went crying from the room after begging him and pleading with him to change his mind. to reconsider. but your father had made his decision. he promised you that one day you would thank him for the position he arranged for you. a chuckled slipped your lips, wondering if the time to be thankful would ever come.

"still sneaking away from your chambers at night?" the voice mused on. it was familiar and you could not help the smile that flooded to your lips as your turned around to see behind. before you stood aemond targaryen. taller than you remembered, leaner, his hair long and a patch covering his eye. he had been dressed in black, from head to toe. aemond did not look as you remembered him to look. though you were sure you did not look as he had remembered you either. still, the both of you smiled to one another.

"aemond-" you cheered gleefully. you were quick to rush into his arms. it was not proper of either of you. both knowing anyone could see, that neither of you respected the formalities. that the two of you now stood in the gardens as you did when you were children. his arms wrapped tightly around the frame of your body and your face nuzzled into his chest. you would hold one another for longer than two friends should before creating distance again. you looked up at aemond's face and his eye had been on you and only you. "you've grown-" you remarked, the smile not fading from your lips.

"as have you, y/n" aemond spoke. he reached out, carefully. taking your hand in his own and beginning to pull you along with him gently. "come on, y/n. there's something i want to show you." aemond instructed you. there was a small part of you that knew you shouldn't go with him. that you were a married lady in her night clothes with nothing but a robe to keep your modesty. though you followed aemond, without a second thought. despite what you knew you did not hesitate as aemond led you through the castle and you blindly followed him through the red keep. down the castle stairs and outside beyond the castle walls.

"should we be here, aemond?" you questioned following him blindly into the dark.

"if i told you we weren't would you turn back?" aemond did not as much as look to you he only continued walking.

"never" you confessed.

"then, no. we shouldn't. but i've been waiting years to show you vhagar" aemond continued to lead you through the field but it was easy to see her. the sight of her was near frightening to you. involuntarily your body moved closer to aemond's, the sight of her was frightening, but aemond could not help but to smile as he watched you cower. "it's okay. she won't hurt you when you're with me. i swear it." he reassured you as he approached vhagar.

your eyes took in the dragon before you and aemond was quick to move to the netting that hung from her side. one of his hands gripping onto it as he once again pulled you close to him. "you trust me, don't do you?" aemond questioned his hand bringing yours to the rope.

"yes," you confessed near breathless. it was now that aemond helped you up the dragon's side. him behind you, arms wrapped around grabbing onto the net, as he helped you climb her. when finally up, one of his hands gently held your waist get onto the saddle. aemond quickly pulled himself behind you. both of his hands pulling you from behind in a way that your back was against his chest and his arms were wrapped around your torso as he grabbed the reigns of the dragon. this was the moment that aemond has always wanted to show you, and as vhagar took off he could not contain the smile that made his way to his face as he watched your first ride on a dragon. aemond would take you flying on vhagar, the wind in your hair as you screamed with joy. your robe no longer tied as aemond kept his arms wrapped around you tightly. where aemond took you was unrecognizable to you now. some distant place from kingslanding; perhaps you knew it when you were a child but you had known it no longer now. aemond was quiet at the two of you sat on the ground. his arms were still wrapped around yours and his eye had been looking to you.

"i have missed you, here. y/n . . . " aemond confessed as your eyes looked up to meet his. a soft smile glowing on your lips.

"as i have missed you, my prince" you cooed to him softly, sitting up so that the two of you could be face to face. there was a silence that followed. a feeling that did not go away and it strained your chest and weakened your legs. you felt it when he looked at you the way he did now. aemond's hand cradled your face, pulling you close to him by your jaw, and without asking he pressed his lips onto yours. you kissed him back, your soft subtle lips that fought against his own. his hand grabbing onto the neckline of your nightgown as he begun to pull at it, exposing the skin of your shoulder. the sudden feeling of your duty flooding you through the mess of passionate kisses the two of you were ingulfed in.

"wait, wait- aemond we shouldn't do this." you attempted to stop what was unfolding before you. aemond kissed you again, and once again you kissed him back. your eyes closed before pulling yourself from his lips again. a nearly impossible task. "no, aemond. i'm married. i have a husband-" you pleaded.

the very mention of your husband was enough to make his blood boil. his face went cold for a moment as aemond remembered when he had found out about your betrothal. you were only given a day to pack your belongings and leave for high garden.

aemond remembered how your father had pulled his sobbing daughter away from the prince. he too had been in tears at the announcement. it was the last time he had seen you. being dragged by your father as you sobbed. the image of you in tears stuck in his mind as the years passed. you hadn't known this; your father never told you, and aemond never got the chance to, but the moment your father dragged you away aemond went running in tears to his mother. the youngest born prince burst into her room and ran to her. alicent's arms opened immediately and frantically.

"what is it? what happened, aemond? tell me-" alicent went frantic. she had never seen aemond so upset before and she worried that someone had been hurt.

"he betrothed her- y/n. lynoel strong. he betrothed her to the lord of high garden. he- he-" aemond was sobbing and alicent's arms were quick to wrap around her son. she had known what everyone around the castle had known. if anything she was waiting for this day to come and she rubbed her sons back as he wept into her chest.

"oh, aemond." alicent sighed. the queen paused attempting to gather some kind of comfort for her youngest son. "there comes a time in every young girls life when she must be betrothed. to become a wife." alicent begun to give her speech but aemond begun to push her back his face now red and flushed with anger.

"mother. no- i'm not upset about her being betrothed. i just-" aemoond stopped himself for a second before finally letting it out. "she should have been betrothed to me! not some lord of high garden. a rose? we're dragons- why not me?" aemond was sobbing again. "is it because i'm not the first born son?" he questioned tears in his eyes again. "is it because i don't have a dragon?" aemond wept again.

"no no, aemond. that's not why, darling" alicent quickly tried to scoop up her son, but he pushed her away the moment she came in contact with him. "aemond, please- i know she is your friend-" alicent hardly got a chance to get her words out before aemond interrupted her again.

"she's not just my friend." aemond spoke up, feeling a need to make his message clear on how important this was to him. "she's the only person in this whole bloody castle who treats me like i'm not wrothless." aemond spat out through his own sobs. alicent looked with sympathetic eyes. unsure what she had the power to do and in turn, she caved.

"i will offer lord strong a marriage proposal for her hand in place of lord tyrell. do you understand?" alicent attempted to clean her son's face. aemond would nod finally accepting his mothers arms again.

alicent would make the proposal to lynoel strong. y/n strong and prince aemond targaryen, to be wed in a few years time. but your father denied it without consideration. he did not waiver. he did not even give her a reasonable doubt. instead, lynoel sent you away to high garden and you watched, weeping out of a carriage window unaware that aemond was even an option for you. aemond, however, had known that some day you would return to him. if it were by the hands of the gods or his own hand.

now you were in his arms and there had only been one problem. your husband. something aemond thought about long before you arrived. "y/n. your husbands dead-" aemond informed you, he did not waiver. not once as he spoke. a look of confusion consumed your features.

"aemond . . ." you trailed off in your own confusion. "what are you talking about?" you questioned him brows furrowed together.

"he's gone, y/n. dead. that fat fool was smothered in his bed." aemond informed you without mercy. without remorse. still you looked at him in confusion, horror- unsure on how to process what aemond was saying to you.

"aemond. did you- did you have my husband killed?" you asked bluntly. there had been no mannerism that could have asked what you were asking him now. what you had already known. aemond smiled.

"obviously. hadn't you wondered why larys requested that the both of you come to kings landing? come on, y/n. i know after all these years at high garden you haven't become daft. i never stopped thinking about you." aemond confessed, his hand returned to your jaw and gently pulled you in closer to him. eye to eye, nose to nose. "even the largest dragon in the world could not fill the hole that you left behind." he confessed, his breath hot on your face.

"say you'll marry me. we'll set things right. say you'll marry me and be my wife. marry me and carry my heirs. say it, y/n." aemond was practically pleading with you. but the pleading had not been necessary. aemond had you wrapped around his finger.

"i'll marry you-"

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x helaena targaryen #aemond targaryen one shot #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon angst #house of the dragon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (I)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 1,645

CW: childbirth, Aegon being Aegon, Bullying, child abuse, fear of the dark, refrences to torture, loving parents, oc is described to have brown hair, streaked with silver and purple eyes

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire charecters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all charecters are his  except for my OC          

When Rhaenyra fell pregnant for a second time, she knew it would be different.

For the birth of Jacaerys, her pregnancy was followed with mass celebrations, house Veleryon showering her with gifts, proud that a child with Velaryon blood would sit on the iron throne. But after his birth, the celebrations ceased. Whispers swept through the court, questioning his birth. But after a few months, many came to the agreement it was his grandmother Rhaenys Baratheon’s blood shining through, she once looked more Baratheon than Targeryen and the child was merely taking after her.

But then she fell pregnant again, and though she was once more greeted with celebrations, the court held its breath.

One child born with the Baratheon looks was one thing, genetics was a mystery and it was pure chance he had brown hair and eyes.

But if this child too had the ‘Baratheon looks’ then it would all but confirm the rumours queen Alicent spun.

But that was not why Rhaenyra felt this pregnancy to be different, unlike her first pregnancy, she had different symptoms, morning skinniness, new cravings, and where before she had always had clear skin she was getting pimples and spots. She hoped for a girl, having always wanted a little sister, and now she would have a daughter. She had only ever imagined having girls, and though she was not disappointed at having a boy when the masters spoke of their predictions of it being a girl, she got a little jump in her step.

So, when she went into labour, whilst the court held its breath waiting for the legitimacy of her children to be confirmed, she held her excitement over having a daughter.

The day of her labour was not cheerful, the skies were grey and cloudy and when her contractions began rain fell from the sky, a storm from Stormsend having reached KingsLanding.

With the wind rattling against the windows, and thunder striking down from the sky, the family waiting outside, Viserys pacing the halls. Alicent biting her nails. This labour was tough, though Jacaerys birth had been easy, this had taken double the time his had, her screams, louder than even the storm raging outside. And when it all stopped the family feared the worse.

The young prince Aemond, only eighteen moons old had awoken, screaming insisting he is with his mother. Only to arrive just in time to hear his niece's screams and his eldest sister's laughter.

He rushed into her room, not even allowing time for his father to check on his daughter, before jumping up (as well as a toddler could) and sitting next to his sister insisting on holding his niece. Tired from the labour Rhaenyra agreed.

When her father and Alicent finally entered, they were quick to approach. Alicent caught a glimpse of black hair streaked with silver.

“A girl?” Viserys questioned, smiling down at the babe in Aemonds arms.

Nodding, Rhaenyra smiled “Aemma” she declared, causing a delighted laugh to leave Viserys mouth.

“She looks just like her, the Arryn genes are strong with her it seems, she even has your mother’s eyes.” And she did, Arryn blue eyes, not violet, as she had dreamed, but perfect.

She had attempted to take Aemma back from  Aemond, but he had not let go, simply smiling and babbling to his niece, his Aemma.

As the years went by Aemond continued to stay with Aemma, scarcely letting her stray from his sight, his hand always holding hers. Where one was, the other was always near. Being the only two without a dragon, his never hatching, and her own destroyed along following the storm on the day of her birth, they had the same lessons, with no dragon lessons, they were very rarely apart.

Aemma had grown into a sweet, beautiful, and intelligent girl. Her looks compared to that of her great-grandmother, Daella, alongside her sweet nature. She had an innocence around her, being the middle child and only girl of her mother, her mother wished to preserve the child-like wonder for her daughter, wishing to grant her daughter the childhood of being the heir and the only child of a king stolen from her. Aemond was all too pleased to keep her like this, wanting to preserve her wonder, her need for him. Though book smart, the sheltered life she lived kept her from the real world. She was even protected from rumours, though they still were whispered, all desired to keep her from them.

She was a kind girl and underserving of the cruelty of court, but even that did not protect her from her family. Alicent had always been fond of her, always allowing her near her children, being kind, braiding her hair and even commissioning gifts for her. She was close to Heleana, the pair, whenever Aemond left her alone, often found each other’s company. Aemma was one the few people to share her interest in insects, even going out of her way to collect any that she thought Heleana might enjoy. But Aegon and her brothers were another story. Aegon was a jealous person, envying his niece for the kindness his mother never found him, so he took it out on her.

When Jacaerys let slip Aemma’s fear of the dark, an idea struck him.

The black cells.

Aemma rarely slept alone, with Aemond often sneaking in and sleeping with her, hating the moments apart even when they sleep. When he was sick, they often slept apart, his fear of catching his illness, however little or contagious it was. And her chambers always had candles lit for when she did sleep, a reassurance that whatever lurked in the dark was stopped by the glow of a candle.

Aegon waited for Aemond to fall ill, for a time he knew she would be alone. And snuck into her chambers, her brothers by his side.

It was the dead of night, the boys aged 9 and 6 tired but willing to please their uncle, snuck into her rooms and carried her through the keep down to the third level of black cells.

Being a deep sleeper, she didn’t wake once, not even flinch when Aegon picked her up and then dumped her in the cells.

They had run off giggling, thinking it a brilliant prank, and a way to cure her of her fear, as Aegon put it.

They had thought it would be overcome morning, that she would wake in the dark before finding the door and leaving.

None of them expected her to be locked in there for a week, they did not know the doors were locked and only opened from the outside.

The keep was in disarray searching for her, neither boy spoke up, fear of their punishment keeping them.

Aemond was driving everyone mad, ordering and screaming for her to be found. He was normally a shy quiet boy, unsure of himself. But with his Aemma missing all that was left of him was a madman.

The rest of the keep was in disarray. All guards were on the lookout for the princess, searching high and low. She had completely disappeared, without a trace.

The boys were growing nervous, they couldn’t admit to what had been done and they feared the black cells too much to return and retrieve her.

Aemma had woken in complete darkness, she could even see her hand it was so dark.

She could hear screaming as if they were her own, but she didn’t notice, she didn’t even notice as she crawled forward in her small cell and pounded on the door, begging to be let out. Or as she threw her guts up after hours of screaming and pounding.

She did notice when it all went quiet. When even her screams stopped when the screams of the criminals being tortured turned quiet.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, there was no way to tell day from night.

She slept when she collapsed, her tears lulling her into a tormented sleep, her stomach empty and churning.

She had no food nor water, the dungeon master had no clue she was down here, and no one did.

 Not until a week had passed and Aemond dreamt of the black cells. She had refused to rest till she was found, but collapsing from exhaustion lead to his dream, leading his startling awake, and his racing to the cells. Ser Criston Cole was quick to follow him, though he did not care for the girl he still had a duty as a kingsguard. She was found after three hours of searching, three hours of Aemond shouting and ordering guards to search every cell on every level.

Ser Harwin Strong found her, he and her mother had, like Aemond, not stopped, fearing the worse, had not rested. When he found her she was sitting in the corner, head between her legs, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face. She was thin, with chapped lips, her face red and puffed with her never-ending tears.

She screamed when the light poured in, shuffling back into her corner.

“Aemma” Harwin breathed, before alerting the rest of the guard, Aemond came running over, taking her into his arms.

“Aemma” he cooed, taking her hand, she had flinched back from Harwin when he took her hand, but with Aemond she took it, and jumped in his arms, tears falling from her eyes once more. “it’s ok…it’s ok… your safe now” he spoke softly, stroking her hair.

Maesters were quick to attend to her, she was weak and dehydrated. And her mind was still in a panic. She refused to let go of Aemond, using him as a shield when her brothers and Aegon paid her a visit.

She never said who had done it, but her distance and new timid nature around her brothers and uncle was proof enough for Aemond.

But he couldn’t do anything, he was a victim of their bullying. Though they never did something similar or remotely as cruel again, Aemonds crazed state was enough for them to leave Aemma and him alone, at least until the pink dread.

a/n more of an intro chapter, half edited

next part

#yandere aemond targaryen #yandere hotd #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targeryen #aemond #ewan nation #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targeryen x oc #aemond targeryen x fem!oc #obsessive aemond #posessive aemond #myladystrong #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond x oc #aemond x velaryon!reader #aemond x strong!reader #aemond x reader #aemond fic #aemond x targaryen! reader #ae #house of the dragon aemond

[raparopa]

a/n: i love house of the dragon that's all

warnings: fem!reader, some femslash

when someone at the tournament asks for a sign of attention from their sweetheart

daemon targaryen

Daemon thinks this is funny. What a fearless, and it seems, immortal knight. Of course, he knows that his lover is beautiful, and he also knows that men pay attention to her. When a knight in a tournament asks his beloved for a sign of attention, Daemon ostentatiously, so that everyone can see, holds out his S/O wreath, which he himself chose in front of everyone, nodding with a smirk at the knight, who already regretted his decision.

- Come on, accept a gift from my wife, youngster. Isn't that what you wanted? -For the rest of the tournament, he will taunt in the ear of his woman, pointing to the impudent little knight, who had his head blown off after two races. 💕

criston cole

Criston immediately gets angry. All he will feel is irritation and terrible anger. He can't do anything - he's just a White Cape who can't even throw something offensive at a bastard who dares to covet his beautiful lady. But his anger will subside a little when he sees his beautiful woman in a flowing dress, with flowing hair and ribbons, with a beautiful wreath in her hands - he just cannot help but smile, looking at his goddess. But the knight who asked for her courtesy is first on Criston Cole's list. Let him get ready.

aemond targaryen

He didn't understand at all at first. Tournaments are generally the last thing Aemond cares about, he only came for his S/O. And when some man in armor asks his lover to give him a token, Aemond just:🤨

He looks at his happy, embarrassed companion, then at the impudent one, and silently clenches his fists, waiting for this ridiculous trick on the part of the knight to end. It's not like he's angry... He's ten times more tense, because usually she only smiles like that for him; and when his lady returns to him, he will be silent and look ahead of him for a long time. (slightly regretting not participating in the tournament, you get the idea)

aegon targaryen

In the morning a knight fights with a wreath from his wife on a spear; in the evening his head rolls in the mud. It's all.

alicent hightower

She is calm enough, because she knows that this is just a tradition. When she sees that her S/O has been chosen to give her a token of attention, she will smile gently at her, nod her head, and I think she will be proud that she has got such a beautiful treasure for a long time. When her lady returns to her, they will imperceptibly join their fingers, continuing to smile and giggle at each other, completely forgetting about the tournament.

lucerys velaryon

Luke is the biggest kitten in the world. PERIODT. 😼

I think he really likes tournaments (he likes to have fun and family evenings in general). He likes to place bets (in secret) on knights, whistle and clap loudly. But he never paid attention to the wreath moment until he had his S/O. When a man asks her to give him a token, Luke is surprised. He will ask her a lot of questions.

- Did he like you? Why did you choose this particular wreath? Does he think you are beautiful? And you him? What if I asked for a wreath?

-Luke, if you want me to give you a wreath, I'll give you a hundred of them, please don't take it personally.

After such a promise, he will sit with a proud smile and your hand in his palm.

jacaerys velaryon

He is surprised. He doesn't even want to let go of his S/O's hand at first, opening his mouth to say something. He sits with his mouth open and large, round eyes all the time, while his beloved, to the general applause, gives the knight her sign of attention. He glances at the man, clenching and unclenching his fingers. When his lady returns to him, he will simply continue to stare at her questioningly, making her laugh.

-Y/N!

- Do you want flowers in your hair too, honey?

rhaenyra targaryen

If the word "pride" was a person, it would be Rhaenyra. She proudly raises her chin, grins at the knight, as if showing with whom this wonderful S/O is here today, and the rest of the time in general, too. She has a beautiful companion, in silks and gold, who makes these unworthy ones drool over her. She perfectly remembers such moments in her life, and understands how such a request elevates you above other women who did not receive this.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #criston cole #criston cole x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys valaryon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader

[shuichiakainx]

🖤🔥🐉

#daemon targaryen #matt smith x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #matt smith smut #house of the dragon #daemon x reader #hotd smut #hotd s2 #hotd season 2 #prince daemon targaryen #rhaenyra x daemon #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targeryen x reader #modern daemon targaryen #daemon targeryan #matt smith imagine #hotd daemon #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #mattsmithxreader #matt smith #matt smith fanfiction #matt smith x you #matt smitt

[axelsagewrites]

Main Masterlist Here

Game of Thrones Masterlist Here

Warnings/Guides

【P】Platonic【P】 🆇Smut 18+🆇

Request Line Up and Request Rules

♡ Aemond Targaryen ♡

Lemon Cakes - Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Modern Aemond HCs

Courting HCs

Jealousy HC's

🆇Polaroid's Part 1🆇 🆇Missed You Part 2🆇

🆇Collar🆇

♡ Aegon Targaryen ♡

Modern Aegon HCs

Promise

Artist

🆇Reward🆇

🆇Passageways🆇

Wrapping Presents

Birthday Celebrations

Neighbour part one Daughter part two

♡ Helaena Targaryen ♡

Modern Helaena HCs

🆇Wife🆇

♡ Jace Velaryon ♡

Modern Jace HC's

Cocky Part One 🆇Part Two🆇

🆇Nsfw Alphabet🆇

🆇See You Again🆇

Modern Crush Headcannons

🆇How to Treat a Princess🆇 (featuring Aegon)

🆇Yours🆇

Frat Party Part 1- Frat Baby Part 2

🆇Perfect Wife🆇

Studying

♡ Luke Velaryon ♡

Modern Luke HC's

Dance

Study date - part one - part two

♡ Daemon Targaryen ♡

Modern Daemon HC's

🆇My Sweet Dragon🆇

🆇Partition🆇

🆇In Charge🆇

My Moon & Stars (sequel to in charge)

【P】Swear it【P】

Sugar Baby Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - 🆇Part 4.5🆇 - Part 4 - Part 5 Wedding - Honeymoon

🆇Missed You🆇

🆇Rings🆇

🆇Moved In🆇

♡ Rhaenyra Targaryen ♡

🆇Perzītsos🆇

🆇 Worth it🆇

♡ Harwin Strong ♡

🆇Take Care of You🆇

Suitable Match

♡ Criston Cole ♡

🆇Test my Devotion🆇

♡ Cregan Stark ♡

🆇 Princess🆇

🆇Perfect Little Prisoner🆇

♡Alicent Hightower♡

🆇Dreams🆇

Preferences/Multicharacter

How they react to you being drunk – Aemond, Aegon, Heleana 🆇How he is in bed🆇 – Aemond, Aegon, Jace, Daemon, Harwin 🆇Modern NSFW Heacannons🆇- Jace, Daemon, Aegon, Aemond How they react to your period - Aemond, Aegon, Jace, Cregan, Luke

Modern boyfriend Headcannons - aegon, aemond, jace, luke

New Years Countdown - aegon, aemond, jace, luke

Thanks for any support I appreciate it all xoxo Sage

Dividers from here and here from @saradika

Post topper made on Canva

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #rhaenerya targaryen x reader #heleana targaryen x reader #jace velaryon x reader #lucerys valeryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x reader #harwin strong x reader #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic

[bittersweetarts]

Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chapter 6)

Aemond Targaryen x You –  Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5

Word count: 3160 word

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: Angst, misogynistic behaviour (quite sexist), minor violence, dubious consent

Spotify Playlist – AO3 Page

Chapter 6: To Be Alone

You have grown to detest the Red Keep, King’s Landing, and yourself for being a coward, for allowing yourself to be kept here without struggle. You once found comfort in the Keep’s halls, seeing the Seven-Pointed Star constantly, but now, each you see the holy symbol, it mocks you. It reminds you how skewed your faith is. Every day you pray to the Seven, praying to hear from your family, for someone to come and take you away, but your prayers for onto deaf ears. You find it easier though, hoping that is, rather than trying to do something about it.

Since your conflict, some moons ago, Prince Aemond Targaryen has kept his distance. At first, it was difficult. He would not leave your room after your fight and kept you there with him as well. You would not talk to him and he would not let go of you. That is, until you asked about the letters. You were almost certain that he had read them, for he was too guileful not to. But he would not answer you. You pleaded, begged, promised to forgive him, but he would not. At dawn, as the two of you laid in bed awake, you thought he would finally divulge when you kissed him, trying to please him, but he did not. Instead, he pulled away after pressing his lips onto your forehead, and left the room wordlessly, finally leaving you alone.

After that, the one-eyed Prince did not seek you, nor did you him. He no longer frequented your quarters and its hallways, or so you assumed. Your chamber door was barred from the moment you returned from supper, and you forced yourself to read until your eyes were heavy and exhaustion overwhelmed you. Sometimes you wake from nightmares, expecting someone to be there, holding and comforting you, but you now always found yourself alone. Being alone no longer suited you as it once did.

Your anger at the one-eyed Prince transmuted into petulance, and you found yourself short-tempered and unpleasant to be around. While you remained courteous to the Targaryens and other court members from noble houses, you found yourself cruelly snapping at maids and servants for human error, and even found yourself irritable around the Helaena’s children at times, such as when Princess Jaehaera ripped her new dress whilst trying to play with her brothers. You could not even conceal your annoyance whenever you found members of court staring at you, especially Lord Larys Strong, who you caught watching you a few too many times.

This new bitter attitude was also spurned by the fact that your twenty-fifth name day was approaching in weeks and you felt stuck in time, left behind by those who were meant to love you. You were a lonely, resentful woman now, with no place to call home and no family to turn to. You considered to attempt finding a husband again, but the sickening memories of Jayse always came to mind, and you felt yourself deterred (Jayse Wylde had been taken out of the Keep’s Infirmary some time back, after making very slow recovery, and last you heard, he was still unconscious and brought back the Rain House, to be cared for by his family).

That is how you found yourself here, humbly beseeching Queen Alicent to grant you leave for Storm’s End, while drinking tea with her.

Having tea with the Queens was a regular occurrence for you, as they enjoyed your company. The Queens had tea everyday together, some peculiar concoction brewed by some Maestors, as it was supposed to support health and fertility, the latter which Queen Alicent had once joked was unnecessary. Invited to this intimate affair, you would tell them about interesting things you had recently read, such as the story of The Long Night and how mothers smothered their babies to save them from suffering, in addition to harmless tattle that had spread throughout the Keep, like how the visiting niece of Ser Tyland Lannister had an odd affinity for adding salt into her morning tea, as told by the Royal Kitchen maids. This had garnered a disgusted face from Queen Alicent and a curios nod of the head from Queen Helaena.

On this day however, you found yourself alone with the Queen Alicent, and horribly yearning more than usual. It was a lovely day at King’s Landing, and pleasant cool winds took hostage of the city, like the orange hawkweeds infest gardens. While walking through the Royal Gardens with the twins and Maelor earlier, you could not help but imagine how it would feel to walk through your homeland, famed for its tempestuous winds on even the warmest day. So, when you found yourself at tea with Queen Alicent, you could not stop yourself from speaking.

“My Queen. I am so grateful for your kindness and generosity, so please do not consider me ungrateful, but may I ask something?” Setting down her saucer whilst smiling, the Queen Mother took hold of your hands, her hold radiating warmth.

“What is it, my sweet girl?”

“May I humbly request leave, to visit my family?”

The Queen looked at you with sympathetic eyes, yet her smile vanished. You could feel your heart begin to sink, which you hoped did not show. Sighing, the Queen Alicent squeezed your hand before responding.

“Darling child, I wish that I could say yes, but I cannot. I do not believe it is my place to grant your request.” Looking at you with sad eyes, she finished. “Though I horribly wish I could. I am very fond of you and wish you no unhappiness.”

This was the moment you realised she knew. Of course, how could she not? She was the Queen Mother after all, and she is the one that held her children and the Kingdom together. You never doubted that the Keep’s walls had eyes and ears, yet you could not help but feel humiliation seep in.

Another unexpected development began as your name day approached.

After a particularly exhausting day, one which involved being cupbearer for a dull, hours-long meeting involving the imposition of trade levies (which the Prince, you avoided, attended as well, as the King’s confidant), you returned to your chambers to find a parcel by your bedside.

Perplexed, you opened the packaging, a paper slip slid out. Picking up, you see three words written in cursive. I am sorry. You immediately accepted this was from Prince Aemond, for who else could it be. Rolling your eyes, you crumble the paper and toss it aside, and pick up the object that was packaged. A beautiful gold detailed ring, one which complimented the necklace you stopped wearing long ago. The sight of the beautiful ring infuriated you, and you proceeded to shove it into the back of your wardrobe, where your gifted chain had laid for weeks as well, collecting dust. You considered that to be the end of that matter.

The gifts, however, did not stop. Most evenings, you started finding parcels laid out on the exact same spot on your bedside table. You wondered if it was the Prince who entered your chambers to leave them, or a servant at his behest. It did feel like a violation of your privacy, but then again, was it really? This place is as much yours as King’s Landing is, which is not at all.

You used to open the parcels, and found varying items, such as books, more jewelry, packaged sweets. None of these came with anymore notes though.

The last parcel you opened was a hand-carved wood piece of a dragon, which you both admired and loathed. You disliked this gift the most, for it reminded you of the wooden figures you used to play with during your childhood, and you wondered whether this was a mere coincidence, or if he knew this. Unlike the rest of your gifts which were sequestered to the back of your wardrobe or hidden corners of your room, the wooden dragon sat by your bedside, and before sleep, you would find yourself tracing its carvings. After this gift though, you stopped opening all new parcels completely, shoving them in your wardrobe immediately upon entering the room.

Before you knew, it was your name day, and you wished to disappear more than ever. It was the first day of the first moon of the 131 AC, a holy day for the followers of the Faith, so you found yourself unoccupied on the day. The Queens, Prince Daeron and the children were visiting family in Old Town, for the holy day, and you were left behind. While the Queen Helaena expressed that she and the children would sorely miss you, she did not want you to be spending your name day in service to others at a foreign place and asked for you to stay. The Prince Daeron, on the other hand, quipped that their cousins, Martyn and Lyonel, would fall in love with you immediately and not let you leave the city unwed. Though a jest, you could not help but suddenly wish you were going, and every Targaryen laughed when the Prince Aemond had elbowed the young Daeron in the stomach (that is, except for you).

Your nameday began as usual, with you setting out the dining table for breakfast. The spread was much smaller, as it now was only for the King and a Prince (you opted to have a quick meal at the Kitchens, avoiding the inevitably awkward affair). Afterwards, you spent the day roaming around the Keep’s grounds. You found yourself at the Library for the first time in a while, and decided to borrow a title, which after much perusing, ended up being a book about the War of the Conquest. Though you were familiar with the topic, this specific book you had never read and it appeared interesting.

Heading to the Gardens, your only sanctuary at the capitol, you decide to stay, particularly due to the pleasant breeze which wafted. The Gardens were empty, as most were at septs worshiping, or busy with other matters. You had gone for morning congregation after breakfast, so had no need for worship anymore.

Setting out a tapestry near a grand tree with beautiful amber leaves, you sit and read your new book for hours, until interrupted.

“My Lady.”

A familiar voice catches you off guard. Startled, you look up, to see the one-eyed Prince, dressed in his dragon-riding attire, appearing slightly flustered, as if he had just come back from riding. A slight charred scent attests to this.

“Your Grace,” you greet, as you stand up, bowing while keep your head down. You avoid his intense gaze.

“The weather is rather pleasant, and I find myself lacking company. May you join me for a stroll?”

Still keeping your stare down, you leer at the book in your hands. “I apologise, your Grace, but I was just about to leave.”

“Then let me escort you. Where are you off too?”

Your mind goes blank, for you were actually intending to stay at the Gardens until sunset, with no intention to leave. Comparatively, your chambers were suffocating and seemed as appealing as swine manure. Watching you remain silent, the Prince suddenly grinned brilliantly.

“Ah, I see. I am happy you can keep me company then.” He holds his arm out, which you lightly take hold off, sighing as you set your book onto the tapestry.

At first, the two of you walk in silence. You try to concentrate on the flowers currently in bloom, but struggle. The Prince’s warmth radiated, and you could not help yourself from flushing, something which he notices as he watches you.

“Happy nameday,” Prince Aemond says, starting conversation. You thank him politely, but still avoid his stare, keeping your eyes to the ground. This slightly irritates the Prince, who felt as if he had been practically begging you to look at him.

As you turn a corner, away from a Gardens, you feel yourself abruptly overturned, your back against a hidden blocked passageway. The stonewall felt cold against your back, your dress’s light fabric doing little to shield you. As you looked up at the roguish Prince, you do not feel frightened nor threatened, and this acknowledgment ironically vexed you.

You were finally looking at the Prince as he wished, but this time, it was he who was distracted. His fingers trace your bare décolleté, which most days, you opted to cover with a highline dress, but not today, as you were intending to spend the warm day out. His fingers burn against your skin, and your breathing becomes heavy. He keeps trailing his fingers around your chest area, satisfied with your reaction, and as if in search for something.

“I miss you.”

You remain silent and drop your gaze, ignoring his admission. The Prince stops suddenly, and tilts your chin up, but you stubbornly keep your eyes down. Consequently, you are now forced to stare at his mouth.

“I know that today is your day, so forgive me for being selfish. But please, just say something. Anything.”

“What is there to say?” Your words are harsh, and you feel guilty for a moment.

“You can say anything. Scold me, curse me, berate me, slander my name. I do not care. I just want to hear your voice again. Directed at me.”

“If I was to say what I would like, my head would be on a pike.”

“I doubt that very much.” The Prince smiles, still staring at you adoringly. Honestly, you did realise that you were exaggerating, but that did not mean that he would not ensure that someone else’s head would be on a pike because of you, so you say nothing.

You feel your left hand grasped, and the Prince traces your fingers.

“You do not like my gifts.” He speaks rhetorically, in a sudden saddened tone. Without meaning to, you look at him and are taken aback by his enchanting purple eye. This brings his smile back.

“I like them just fine.”

The Prince proceeds to caress your cheek.

“You can tell me the truth; I will not be offended.”

Inhaling, you answer.

“I did not ask for any of it.”

The Prince proceeds to lean close towards you, the two of you sharing each other’s breath.

“Then ask me, tell me what you want… I will give you anything, you must know that.” You knew that this was a tender moment, and that your next words would end it all.

“I want to see my family, to visit my home.”

The Prince flinched as you spoke, and pulled away, shaking his head.

“No. This is your home, you are home.”

“No, it is not, you know it. My home is at Storm’s End, where I grew up, where my family lives.” The Prince shuts his eye, as if he did not hear, which only fuels your adamancy. “It is you that said ‘anything’, please.” You step forward to him, grasping hold of his hands now.

“My Prince, I have no need for things, no matter how beautiful or interesting. I am not lacking in any regard, except one.”

“No, I cannot. You cannot.” The Prince speaks disjointedly. You knew that you were testing precarious boundaries, but you could not stop yourself.

“You are the one who will not give me their letters or tell me its contents.” You say, cupping his cheeks. “Please, my Prince– Aemond. If you will not tell me their words, let me hear them myself. I miss them.” You press yourself against him, and his breath hitches.

“I know that it is you that gets to decide, so I am pleading. Just as you say anything, I will do anything. I just want to go to my home.” The Prince’s eye darkens as you finish speaking, and his ruthlessness returns.

“Anything?” You nod in response, nervous.

“Wed me.”

Your eyes burrow in confusion, and now you pull away, shaking your head and turning away from him. “That is ludicrous, absurd.” You feel arms wrap around you and his body presses you from behind, his mouth nearing your ear.

“Wed me. Have my children. Be with me until the end.” You shake your head, unbelieving of what is happening.

“There are only two things I will let have me. Death, and you.”

You shudder at his declaration, truly not believing what is happening. Turning around to face him, you finally respond.

“My Prince, Aemond. You know that we cannot. We are not the same, you are a Targaryen Prince. I am a nobody from a House most forget.” The blonde interrupts.

“I do not give a shit about Houses or the idle tongues of everyone else.” Grabbing hold of you face, he brings himself close. “Our children will be Targaryens, you will be a Targaryen.” He kisses you near your mouth gently. You only shake your head, frowning.

“Then why ask? You can do as you please, with no consequence. You can hold me prisoner, you can kill me, you can feed me to your Vaghar, with no repercussion from anyone. You can do anything you like to me, so why ask?”

“Because I want you to want me as I do.” He kisses you near your mouth again and you impulsively let out a quiet gasp.

“Tell me that you do. Tell me that you want me, that you are mine.”

You remember that awful night with Jayse, and how the Prince had asked you the same, and this rouses you to reality. You could not wed, for that would not be a life for you. You are nothing to each other now, and he already tries to possess you so adamantly. Anything more, and you might as well forfeit your life and freedom.

“I want to see my family.” You say stubbornly, which only serves to agitate the Prince, who groans in response, tugging harshly at his hair, turning his back to you. He remains deathly silent, not speaking a word. Only a cool breezes passes you both, and you bite your lower lip in anticipation.

“Fine.” The Prince practically mumbles, and for a moment, you believe that you misheard.

“What?” You say, your brows furrowed.

“I will not repeat myself.” Turning around, he takes a stride towards you, planting his hands on your waist firmly. “I will come with you, and perhaps Helaena and the children, if they wish it.” You feel even more confused, your crossed brows evidencing this. You attempt to protest, only to be hushed.

“Either you travel to the stormlands with me, with us, or not at all.” He says adamantly, his violet eye already plotting with schemes.

Whispering, you ask. “Why?”

“That does not concern you.” Beaten on the matter, for your desperation to see your parents and siblings triumphs all else, you accept, and the Prince embraces you in satisfaction.

Author’s Note: Keeping with canon, our war criminal is obsessed with an older woman (though not much, if I haven’t messed up counting, he should be twenty-one at this point). As always, I hope you enjoyed!

– Chapter 7

Tags: girl-obsessed-with-things 404slayer404 moonmaiden1996 rosaryos  roseanimelover jovialfanatic wishfulwithwine missusnora maat-the-prescriptive  @let-love-bleeds-red​ shnadaidas 

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targeryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond fanfiction #aemondtargaryen!thots

[snowprincesa1]

{Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader}

What bothers you? (Fluff)

Aemond Targaryen’s wife won’t tell him anything of when she’s ill or in pain and it’s bothering him

Aemond Targaryen was known to be a stoic and reserved man, only ever showing love and affection to those closest to him, his family. But for people marrying into his family this may seem intimidating. Aemond was cold and distant only spending his days doing princely duties or flying on Vaghar or sparring and training with ser Criston. In his free time he buried himself in his philosophy books.

When you were betrothed to Aemond, you were so nervous you could barely speak for the first few days, so afraid to ire his anger or disturb him with your blabber. But when you were comfortable you would grow far far..more talkative. Aemond one day happened to see you and helaena chatting away about spiders and insects, which surprised him. It was as though you spoke an inhuman amount of words in one sentence. He thanked the Gods that you weren’t like this when you were with him. Another part of him grumbled over the fact that you weren’t like that with him! Was it his eye? Did he terrify you and scare you away with his deformity? Were you only his betrothed because your family wished it. The thought had Aemond pulling at his hair.

Aemond decided to win your affections (for reasons unknown to him it was very important) he decided to barge in on the time you and helaena spent. Seeing Aemond so soft with the twins, reading with them and even occasionally joining conversations with Helaena on the silliest of topics. You no longer feared him, and even started reading with him to Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. You realised aemond was much more quiet and if he ever spoke his words held meaning and importance. But the previous quietness dissipated the moment you began to trust him, he would have to deal with a squealing betrothed every time you saw a cat, he would have to deal with you braiding his hair and gifting him embroidered handkerchiefs. He would have to deal with you following him around almost like a lost puppy and eventually sleeping by his side in the library because you were bored of the books he read. Why couldn’t he read something romantic?

The two of you were married in a grand feast, sharing your second kiss at the altar. The first kiss was accidentally lost when Aemond came back from a long journey away, he ended up grabbing your waist and kissing you right there and then, leaving you blushing over the fact that he actually listened to your ramble of what happened in your romance novels. The bedding was private, Aemond threatened to have Aegon’s tongue cut off if he decided to start a whole chant for a public bedding. That was the first night aemond had taken off his eyepatch to show himself to you fully. You kissed his scar and his sapphire gently before the two of you were lost in the flames of you ever growing passion. Aemond longed for you for days. The feeling of your tongue on his. His hands intertwined in yours and your legs wrapped around him as you begged him for more. He knew it then that you were the one who had entrapped him into loving you.

He told you of his secrets, the hurt he had endured from his past, the worst of them being Aegon’s brothel incident and his eye being taken from him. You would hold his hand as he spoke to you looking into the flames of the fireplace. You would try your best not to cry when he told you of his past, but seeing him in pain holding it all in absolutely killed you. Aemond’s jaw dropping in shock when he saw you cry hugging him, telling him that nothing of the sort will ever happen to him again, the reassurance you gave him all while crying. He loved you so dearly, he would do anything to keep you safe.

He noticed that you grew quite weak a few months into the marriage, you having frequent fevers and cold sweats at night. You felt guilty for dragging Aemond down. He would skip his training or a chance to ride vaghar to sit with your sick self until he was sure you would be okay. Due to your intense fever you would black out as well. The first time you blacked out Aemond visibly screamed at the guards, the maesters, his family everyone. He would rather lose his remaining eye than you.

Once you began to heal slowly..with time. You began to grow ashamed of yourself. Your husband had lost an eye at such a young age. His lost eye still caused him intense pain. And here you were fainting from weakness and a mere fever. You didn’t want Aemond to worry or miss out on his duty to waste his time with you. You began to force yourself to be okay in front of him, you stopped telling him of what you felt. And kept diverting the topic. But that didn’t stop Aemond’s keen observance from singling out all that was off with you. You clearly weren’t healed and you weren’t resting and that annoyed Aemond to no end. He wanted his bride healthy and happy.

You had forced yourself to dinner with the family and couldn’t keep your eyes open for half the dinner. Your head felt heavy and you were exhausted to no end. Aemond grabbed you by your arm pulling you from your seat with a tug. His heart skipped a beat in fear on how weak you seemed.

“Mother, excuse us.” He said ending the conversation at the dinner table to take you to your shared bedchamber.

“Aemond! You haven’t eaten anything” you complained to your husband who was so busy nitpicking over you and your health.

“What bothers you? Speak plainly. Now” he said placing you on a comfortable chair.

“Nothing husband—” you said guiltily.

Aemond sat by your feet, his head on your knees as he looked up. You couldn’t help but hold his adorable face scrunched up in worry in your hands.

“Tell me or I shall not be able to find rest” he said

“Aemond..it’s stupid. I am stupid” you said in response “I do not wish to trouble you” you laughed.

“It troubles me more when you stay quiet.” He said smiling sadly kissing your knuckles causing you to break out blushing.

“I feel like a burden to you husband, I feel weak. You have dealt with the most horrific of pains and you bear them so bravely and here I am complaining and fainting over..what weakness?” You scoffed pulling your hand away from his hand held yours firmly resisting your pull.

He stayed quiet for a minute before responding to your confession, “you are an idiot” he said chuckling. You expected him to say many things but not insult you but he seemed relieved more than anything. “And here I thought you no longer needed me”

“I’ll always need you, sick or not” you corrected him smiling.

“You are my wife..while it flatters me of how you think so highly of me. I have always felt most safest with my pain hidden within the depths of my mind” he explained “However you are not me, you need not push away your feelings. I don’t want you to be like me, I want to provide for you, I want to love you and be there for you” he explained.

“If I am to tell you of what I feel I want you to tell me of yours as well” you said looking at him to which he smiled

“Don’t I already? You even cried like a little girl when I poured my heart out to you” he teased. “It is a nice change seeing someone love me so much that they would cry on my behalf” he smiled. “How did I get so lucky with a woman like you?”

“You deserve nothing less than all the love this cruel world can provide”

“My world is not so cruel because it has you in it” he said, you would kiss him if you weren’t sick. You missed the intimacy.

“I don’t want to be sick anymore Aemond” you whined finally allowing yourself to vent to your husband.

“Then you have to rest, I should punish you for pushing yourself too hard” he teased playing with the wedding band on your finger.

“I feel like I want to slice off my head because of the headaches” you said “and then feed it to the dogs.” Aemond nodded his head listening to what you felt and oddly by the time you were done you felt more relieved.

“I’ll stay with you until you heal” Aemond said sternly with no room for arguments.

“I do not know when I will heal— it could take a moon or two moons” you said “you have duties!”

“I do not care, I will sit by your side for much as I please” he said stubbornly.

“What if I do not heal at all? What if this is it?” The thought broke Aemond’s heart his hands grasping your face almost desperately

“In your stupid fantasy novels a magical kiss from a prince would solve all these problems, a kiss from me and this won’t be the end” he said before you could stop him saying you were sick he had placed his lips on you. A little fever wouldn’t stop him, and his Targaryen genes were quite strong, he only cared to relieve you off your worry and fears. Aemond ended up spoon feeding you medicine and soup as you urged him to eat his dinner. The two of you worrying only about each other. Later that night as usual he slept with his upper body bare with you pressed against his chest with an arm wrapped around you holding you protectively. Aemond followed through on his promise and you healed slowly but steadily from your sudden weakness.

You would have to find a perfect way to return the favour to him someday. How did you ever get so lucky?

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #hotd #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targeryen x oc #aemond targaryen x female oc #aemond targaryen fluff #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x oc #house of the dragon x female oc #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fluff #a song of ice and fire x reader #a song of ice and fire x oc

[m1ndbrand]

Y/N: You must be the most jealous man I know.

Aemond with a crazy look on his face: You know other men?

#house of the dragon incorrect quotes #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon aemond #aemond yandere #yandere hotd #hotd yandere #aemond targeryen yandere

[sublimitymp3]

for yandere aemond, aegon, daemon and criston, maybe how do they deal with their love having a lover they are not willing to give up even after marriage? Thank you very much for time you are amazing👀❤

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Aemond fell in love with you instantly when you two met. He never particularly liked the idea of being wedded to someone he did not know, but once he saw your sweet face, his worries drifted away. However, he had noticed your reluctance and apprehension to be around him. He thought nothing of it, chalking it up to you having the same opinions of arranged marriages as he once did. Aemond was sure that by the time you two were wed, you'd warm up to him

He was extremely wrong.

You were never cruel or particularly cold to him, you just never gave him any affection or attention as he would. You would dodge his kisses, wipe the ones he did leave on your cheek off, and you treated him more like an acquaintance rather than a husband. He had noticed you would receive letters from time to time, keeping them close to you and being overtly protective of them, and how flustered you'd look after reading them. This only served to make him even more curious about their apparent special contents. One night, Aemond would find the little box where you had stashed the letters. Curiosity got the better of him, and he began reading the various pieces of parchment. A silent rage began to fill him as he discovered they were love letters, exchanged with someone from the Riverlands, your birthplace. He would burn each letter that night, hatching plans to separate you from this secret lover. He'd intercept each and every letter your lover would send to you, reading them with annoyance before burning them in the fireplace. He could see the emotional toll it was taking on you. Your lover had abruptly ceased their communications with you, with no explanation. You wondered if they had grown tired of you, or if they were incapacitated. You were growing sad, and Aemond was always there, though you tried your best to brush him off in hopes another letter would come for you. Eventually, when three months had passed and no new letter was sent, you'd come crying to Aemond, and he'd welcome you with open arms.

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Aegon adored you. You were everything he was not, dutiful, kind, and cheerful. He admired you, and he genuinely felt so much love for you, despite you not knowing each other for long. While you were always friendly towards your new husband, you never were quite affectionate with him. He would try to win you over, stealing kisses from you and spoiling you with lavish gifts. He tried for months it seems to charm you, but to no avail. It was clear you had no romantic interest in Aegon, and he found himself slipping into old habits.

It was a brisk night, the cold breeze causing most people to wear heavy cloaks made of wool. Aegon was drunk in some alehouse, drowning his sorrows in his cups. In his peripheral vision, he could've sworn he saw you, huddled in the corner with a large cloak draped over you, and with some man. But he brushed it off as his drunken mind playing tricks on him. He focused back on his cups, but he couldn't shake how similar that woman looked to you. He fully turned around, squinting his eyes in an attempt to clear his blurry vision. Once his eyes were focused and clear, he saw that it was indeed you, with another man. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw you sharing kisses and loving touches with this stranger. It finally started to make sense to him why you insisted on keeping your relationship with Aegon strictly platonic.

Aegon would go classic Yandere at this point. He'd confine you to your chambers so you wouldn't be able to meet this man anymore. He would probably have his more...sketchy acquaintances deal with the man, eliminating him completely. You would cry and plead with Aegon to just let you go, to allow you to continue to see your lover, but your attempts to sway him were futile. He'd kiss you, whether you liked it or not, and he'd breed you until he was certain you were pregnant, simply another way to keep you anchored to him. Aegon was never much of a patient man, but he'd gladly wait until you accepted him as your one and only love.

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Daemon was no stranger to marriage, having been wedded twice already, to Lady Rhea Royce and Lady Laena Velaryon. He was quite sad over the manner in which his second wife had died, and he had truly loved her. Though, he didn't show his sadness, preferring to keep up his appearance of indifference. But then, he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you at her funeral. You were the daughter of a wealthy merchant who resided at Spicetown, and he was quickly smitten with you.

You were wedded to Daemon not long after, as your father was ecstatic when Daemon asked for your hand. Your father had considered it a great honor and blessing that a Targaryen prince had asked to wed you, and he didn't care to take your feelings into consideration when he accepted the offer. Daemon had observed you were rather closed off and reluctant toward him, but figured your apprehension was either due to how your father wedded you off like it was nothing, or maybe even his reputation as the "rogue prince." When you came to Daemon one day asking to visit Spicetown so you may see your father, he agreed. He wasn't going to keep you from the only family you had, and he somewhat enjoyed the seaside town and its simplicity. Once there, your behavior changed. You were acting a bit shifty, and you weren't even spending much time with your father, instead staying out and about, always disappearing off. Daemon decided to follow you one day, not caring if you discovered him and got angry at him for doing so. he watched you go to a pier, and talk with some fisherman. Maybe he was an old friend or a friend of your father's? But jealousy began to hinder his judgment, and even more so when he saw you kissing the man.

Daemon clearly thinks little of the consequences of his actions, and so he'd stride over, cutting the man down with Dark Sister. He'd drag you roughly by your wrist back to your father and have you say goodbye. Once back home, do not think your actions would go unpunished. Like Aegon, he'd lock you in your chambers, slowly taking away freedoms and making you dependent on him. He didn't care if you hated him, in time he'd make you understand his actions.

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Ser Criston had quickly taken notice of you, a new serving girl. You were always timid around him whenever he tried to make idle conversation, something he found adorable. As the queen's sworn shield there were not many times he could speak to you, but at night when he was posted outside her door, you would walk by, holding various cleaning supplies. Then he would stop you to make friendly conversation. Slowly but surely, he was falling in love with you.

One night, Ser Criston would stop you once more. You had assumed he would make more conversation with you, but you were surprised when he dragged you off. He would sneak you both out of the Red Keep and into the city, finding some drunken Septon and forcing him to wed you two. You were so in shock, that you barely protested, and you were now his wife.

Ser Criston was so fond of you, and how timid you continued to be around him. He had forsaken his vows just to be with you, and he would not so subtly remind you of this, in some way to guilt you into keeping quiet about your marriage. And you did feel guilty for having a lover when Ser Criston had risked his integrity and honor to be with you, but you didn't ask to wed him, and that was his own doing and of no fault of yours. One day, while Ser Criston was making his way to his own quarters for rest, he saw you stealing kisses with some lowly stable boy. After all he had risked to be with you, this is how you repaid him? No, Ser Criston wouldn't stand for it.

The next night, when you were approaching the hall where the queen's chambers resided, and where your dear husband was stationed, you noticed how...angry he looked. You would slow your footsteps down, dreading approaching him, but it was inevitable. He would roughly grab you when you finally were near, making you drop your cleaning supplies to the ground. He'd hold your face tightly with one hand, threatening your position as a serving girl, your only source of income. He would make you swear that you'd never see the stable boy again, lest something terrible should happen to him. All you could do was helplessly nod your head in agreement, and hope Ser Criston would spare you both.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #yandere aemond targaryen x reader #yandere aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #yandere aegon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole #yandere ser criston cole #yandere #headcannons

[milliesdiary]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃 — 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; you were born from adultry and look the part. as a result, a child calls you a bastard and your partner reacts accordingly!

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; rhaenyra, daemon, alicent, jace, aemond, aegon

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; established relationship, violence, fluff. female reader. imagine y’all are on a walk outside the palace or something LMAO

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; i know aemond, alicent, and aegon have negative views toward “bastards,” but they fell in love with you anyway. sorry i dont make the rules <3

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀

the second the words come from that child’s mouth, rhaenyra’s head is whipping around at the speed of light. she almost doesn’t know what to say at first, the words still processing in her head — but then an anger strong as a tempest builds inside of her. dealing with such things with her boys has certainly amped something up in her; the second that word is mentioned and she’s automatically in fight mode. “that is a vile accusation,” she spits, her voice waspish and rich with ill-concealed anger. “go. now.” the white sheet of her silver hair alone is enough to have the kid reconsidering their actions and send them running. no one dares insult the princess: not face-to-face at least. the second they’re gone, rhaenyra is turning toward you and clasps your cheeks in her hands, her eyes shining with that stubborn charm you love: “pay them no mind. you are like anyone else in this house,” she assures, drawing you into a tight, almost motherly hug. “true-born.” 

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍

daemon has never been one for following rules, so him choosing to be in a courtship with you would not be out of the norm; his love does not know titles or traditions. when you’re called a bastard, daemon fucking laughs; not at your expense, but at the idea that a child thought they had the right to speak on such a thing, let alone levy such insults at a woman. you glance over at him, but he doesn’t return the look, only staring the kid down with those sharp eyes of his. not a single word has to come from his mouth and you know what he’s thinking: say it. you can’t imagine being on the receiving end of his cold stare — and it’s apparently excruciating, considering the child mutters out a ‘sorry’ and practically sprints away. they’re gone now, but daemon knows the words aren’t; you’ll probably think about them the rest of the day. he’s not one to pry though, so he merely grabs you by the hand and tilts his head down to press a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “it’s refreshing, isn’t it?” his voice rumbles, tone snarky. he raises his head slowly with a quirk of his lips. “not having children who are cunts.” 

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

a hypocrite, no doubt: berating rhaenyra’s sons for being bastards and yet falling in love with one herself. she understands it better now, what it means to accept someone born from adultery; it’s something she’d do for you, at least. so once a child catches sight of you and calls you such, her brows are knitting together and she’s swiveling in that direction. the only thing she can do is just stand in pure surprise and shock, especially upon noticing it was a kid who spoke it. the child doesn’t do anything else (probably just now realizing that you’re with the Queen), and disappears rather quickly out of fear. the moment they’re gone, alicent is immediately looking at you and trying to analyze your expression. her hands quickly find themselves upon your shoulders and she lines her face up to yours so you meet her eyes. “listen to me. people will try to impress on you that you’re a mistake. you must reject this counsel. what happened in the past doesn’t matter,” she promises, nodding her head as she says it. alicent’s hand comes to rest on your cheek and she gives a sympathetic, sweet smile — one that she always wore when she was 15, and one she only wears for you now. “you are mine, and i am yours.”

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄

the child didn't just breach the line between mockery and outright bullying; no, they stripped it away completely. jace knows exactly what it is like to be harassed for being different. the moment the word comes out, jace is spinning on a heel toward the assailant; he thinks twice about making a scene, because he’s been called it so many times and he should be used to it by now — but then he realizes that the child is talking about you. almost instantly, a brutal heat settles in the pit of his stomach. perhaps its ser harwin’s temper, or maybe his mother’s; wherever it comes from, it’s red-hot and searing, much like the flames that burst from the mouth of the dragon he rides. “what did you just say?!” jace automatically challenges, taking a step toward the child. his voice is deeper when he’s angry, matching the way his dark brows frame his narrowed eyes. a mix of a sneer and a frown is on his lips, and if that wasn’t telling enough, his hands are balled into fists. rest assured that if the kid continued, they would be getting a boot to the chest; jace has a younger brother and knows not to go overboard, but also knows that something like this can’t go unchecked. once the child admits defeat, jace is letting out a scoff and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ward off his anger. “don’t let anyone say that to you,” he says, trying to scold: instead, his words come out less stern and more soft. “we are not bastards. we belong in our families.” jace just stares at you with those pretty eyes of his, waiting for you to nod before he gives a strained smile and leads you along. expect him to hold a grudge against that kid forever. 

𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

aemond has always had a sense of duty that aegon does not; he resents his nephews to the extreme for being bastards. but when it comes to you... well, perhaps there is an exception (he’s a giant hypocrite, thank you very much). similar to jace, aemond is instantly on the kid’s case. as awful as it may be, he has no qualms with hurting a child. “do my ears betray me?” he questions sharply, staring the kid down with that eye of his, lips slightly quirked. he’s livid, but he conceals it fairly well — the only telling part of his anger is how tense his jaw has become from clenching his teeth. if the child did not realize that he was talking to the secret lover of the prince, he sure does now. aemond slides his dagger out of its hidden holster on his hip, and when the child’s eyes widen, he almost lets out a breathy chuckle; he swallows it deep down and decides on a warning: “say it again and i will have your tongue.” the moment the child is gone (and thoroughly terrified), aemond takes in your almost shocked expression. “it was a jest,” he concludes coolly as he sheathes the dagger; you know it was anything but. a smirk graces his lips as he takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb: "though considering the circumstances,” he whispers, “i would count him lucky, my lady.”

𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍

like his mother and aemond, aegon certainly has favoritism when it comes to someone being a “bastard.” he would laugh hysterically if it was directed at his nephews. if it were you though? his woman? it’s another story. quick to anger, aegon’s face screws up the moment the child taunts you. he can be lazy and sullen, yes, choosing alcohol over confrontation any day and drowning in cups — but if someone said that shit to you? he’s suddenly very responsive. impulsively, aegon slaps the child across the face. not only is he upset, but he’s slow to forgive, so don’t expect him to feel bad. he winds back around after, not even giving the kid a second glance when they start to cry. “what? he’ll be fine,” aegon murmurs upon seeing your expression of surprise. he lets out a derisive snort and grabs you protectively by the wrist, pulling you along; no one shall lay a single insult on anything (or in this case, anyone) that aegon claims his own. “if i had it my way, that little shit’s parents would be searching the seven hells for him.” then, after shooting you a vengeful grin, he leans in to whisper hotly into your ear. “when i’m king, i’ll be sure they are the first to go.” 

#hotd imagines #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #jace targaryen x reader #jace x reader #alicent hightower x reader #alicent x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #jace targaryen #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagines #millie’s works — 📓

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

can you pleaaaae make a daemon smut where he just married a girl who had a difficult life was physically abused by her parents or partner so when she makes a mistake maybe dancing with aemond he is jealous and flexes his fingers and she thinks he will beat her and like comfort hurt type fluff

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Fanon!Daemon Targaryen x Reader

summary: Daemon just married a girl who had a difficult life and was physically abused by her parents or partner so when she makes a mistake maybe dancing with Aemond he is jealous and flexes his fingers and she thinks he will beat her and like comfort hurt type fluff

Word count: 3,3K

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Jealousy, Hurt and comfort, mention of abuse, fingering, P in V, cunnilingus

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

You and Daemon have been married merely three moons, and you two still were not much acquainted with one another, you knew basic things about one another but nothing too profoundly. Your marriage was purely out of duty to the king who had arranged the marriage between your houses after the king yet again refused to marry him to Rhaenyra who was already married to Laenor, he mentioned that like the Conquerer had two wives Rhaenyra can have two husbands but that fell on deaf ears. Your father was over the moon and accepted without a second thought however your brother was furious, he tried everything to stop the wedding but could not.

Your childhood was not the best, your father despised you for simply being a girl, you were born after seven sons and your mother bled to death on your birth bed- your eldest brother was already twenty in age at the time and he made it his life mission to take over the role of the father in your life and loved you to no end. Later on, he married a lady from house Tyrell who was just as loving as him and they basically raised you.

However that did not change the fact that they were not your parents, your father still saw you and he always voiced his disappointment in you. He wanted to raise you the way he saw his own father raise his sister, beating was the only punishment otherwise you would not learn properly. He assigned you the meanest septa he could find in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. She always had a stick in hand and the scars on your palms were the proof of her using it on you.

All seven of your brothers attempted to save you and all seven failed, they even made a whole plan to help you run away before your wedding but that also failed when your father moved you from your chambers in the middle of the night without telling anyone, especially them knowing they were not in agreement with him over the marriage. So you ended up marrying the Targaryen prince who seemed to have eaten a sour lemon most of the time and glared at everyone the rest of it. He was not harsh with you, quite the opposite actually- he was gentle when touching you never failing to notice the small winces you tried to hide in his presence but never mentioning them, he was nice and kind always with you in mind.

Daemon however was a rogue and lived a life many dreamed of, he wanted a Valyrian wife and was furious once he knew he was not getting that for a second wife but when he saw you so small in size almost unhealthy, head bowed and not daring to even look in your father's direction, always preferring to be with on of your brothers or their wives and children he knew that he got to have you, save you even from your father. He never once thought he loved you, he cared for you maybe but far from love.

Tonight was the nameday of young Princess Helaena and the King wanted to celebrate his second daughter's twentieth nameday and threw tourneys and feasts in her honor. As her uncle Daemon was present at the feast and you by his side. Your eyes were focused on the dance floor wishing you were one of the ladies twirling and showing off her new gown. Your eyes did trail to your brother every once in a while smiling at their happy faces whether they were with their wives or children, and there were many of them, your eldest alone had five children the youngest being five moons old.

"Excuse me, my lady, would you care for a dance?" Your head snapped up to see who had spoken to you and found Aemond, the kingäs second born son who was closer to you in age than your own husband but who were you kidding no one cared about age.

"May I lord husband?" You turned to Daemon hopeful. He did not want to ruin your fun so he nodded as he sipped his wine. A smile bigger than the one you wore on your own wedding adorned your face as you took Aemond's hand and let him lead you into the dance floor.

Daemon watched closely as if he was a hawk and you a prey, he wanted to make sure you were alright and that creep of a nephew he had did not do something he was not supposed to. You were still smiling as Aemond wrapped an arm around you and led the dance, swaying you from side to side before pulling you up in the air and turning in circles.

"Are you alright, my prince?" Daemon turned to glare at Alicent, the rage burning inside of him like wildfire. Her cunt of a son was indulging his wife and she had the audacity to question his mental state.

"I am just fine, your grace" Daemon downed what was left of his wine before pushing back his chair and moving in your direction.

Aemond saw him before you did and paused his dancing. You turned to see what Aemond was looking at and found Daemon glaring at the both of you as he approached, immediately the smile was wiped off and a tremble shook through your bones.

"Nephew, do allow me to dance with my wife" Daemon smiled sarcastically at Aemond. Aemond nodded his head and moved back to the table without another word.

"Follow me, wife" Daemon ordered. He left the hall without a glance your way expecting you to follow him and you did, you prepared yourself mentally for the pain and hateful words you knew were coming your way soon.

Daemon opened your chamber doors and stepped in first and let you in after him. He was not blind and saw the way you were shaking, the way tears build up in your eyes but he simply did not know why. He was jealous, true he cared for you, and besides you were his wife, he was entitled to be demanding of your attention.

"Did you enjoy humiliating me, wife?" Daemon asked. He smirked watching you as you froze just a couple of steps away from the door.

"I- no husband never, I never meant any harm" You whimpered. You looked down at your hands trying to find a happy place before the beating began.

"Yet you still did harm my reputation by dancing with my nephew" Daemon was now playing with you, he enjoyed this game even when the words were true he never liked to show his emotions and chose to show them more as a game but let reality slip through.

"You gave us permission" You whispered. Daemon's head was cruel, it flashed an image of you dancing with Aemond among the other couples. He took a step closer to you flexing his hand, he itched to punch his one-eyed nephew more than ever at that moment.

Seeing the movement of his fingers you unconsciously took a step back. Daemon's eyes flashed with hurt for a second until he noticed the tremble of your hands and the tears building up in your eyes. He knew then that there was something he did not know about you that caused you to react this way.

"Please do not hurt me" You whimpered. The more steps you took back the more Daemon grew furious with whoever did this to you. The back of your knee met the soft bed forcing you to go down and sit limply on it. You thought 'at least I will be beaten on the bed and not the hard floor'.

"Hurt you? I would never hurt you, what made you think so?" Daemon asked softly. The jealousy was long gone from his system and instead furry, pure rage coursed in his blood.

"My f-father always hurts me when I am bad" You whispered, your voice barely loud enough for him to hear. Daemon took conscious steps closer to the bed before kneeling down by your legs. He placed both his hands on your knees, gentle enough that you barely felt his touch, he was being very gentle with you.

"Listen to me well, I would never hurt you, I never have and never will. You are my wife and I am your husband, I am supposed to protect you not hurt you, do you understand?" Daemon's hand moved up to cup your chin so you would look him in the eyes. A tear trickled down your eye and he was quick to swipe it away. You nodded your head still unsure if you should trust him with his words.

"Let me hear you, sweet girl" Daemon insisted.

"I understand, my prince" You whispered. Daemon chuckled lightly, trying to show you his gentler side but on the inside, he was already plotting ways to kill your father.

"How about you take a bath to calm your nerves" Daemon suggested. You nodded your head in agreement, needing the bath more than anything at the moment. Daemon stood up from the floor and moved towards the door.

"Where are you going?" You asked confused. Daemon turned around to look at you with a soft smile on his usually scowling face, maybe this was the first time you ever saw him smiling like this.

"I have some unfinished business, I will be right back" Unbeknownst to you Daemon had gone to see your father.

Your maid was quick to assist you with your bath, filling the tub with oils and salts that helped you cal down more than you thought possible. She rubbed your shoulders and neck getting the knots that formed there from the stress.

At the same time, Daemone was holding your father up against the wall with a dagger to his throat threatening his life if he ever shows his face in Kingslanding ever again. Daemon was not going to tolerate his presence ever again in the same area as you until the day he dies.

When Daemon returned to your chambers you were braiding your wet hair back so it would not disturb you or him during your sleep. Your nightgown was of white color and your wet skin made it stick to your body, some parts were transparent thanks to the wetness. Daemon felt his cock stir in his pants at the sight. Once you were done with your braid you secured it at the bottom before turning to face him.

"Oh- husband you are back" You squeaked, oh so sweetly. Your cute little lips that were pinkish almost red in color formed an O shape. Daemon had to use every ounce of self-control not to pounce on you and take you right then and there, he had to remind himself that this night was all about you.

"Yes, sweet girl" Daemon began to stride over to you. Your eyes widened oh so comically the closer he got to you. His hands moved to your upper arms as gently as he can.

"You look breathtaking lady wife. you should wear this gown more often" Daemon complimented. Your cheeks turned into a beautiful red color.

"Come" Daemone guided you to the sitting area you had. He sat down on one of the chairs before pulling you up onto his lap. Your arms locked around his neck as you sat sideways in his lap, you were still super light, and he needs to make sure you were being fed properly. He will not have a starved wife.

"My beautiful girl" One of his arms wrapped around your waist to secure you on his lap and the other one moved to touch the apple of your cheek. You gulped watching him like a hawk, still afraid of him and he understood why, he did not give you a reason not to fear him.

"Thank you husband" You whispered, your eyes downcast now at the compliment. Daemon's finger pushed your head back up until your eyes met.

"Sweet girl I am merely telling the truth" Daemon's hand traveled down to your neck feeling the goosebumps grow under his touch. You shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours. He hooked a finger around the loose neckline of the sleeping gown and pushed it down to show your soft shoulder.

"So soft" Daemon whispered. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Your breath hitched in your throat.

He raised his head and captured your lips with his unable to control the urge anymore. You moaned as the taste of the wine he consumed during the feast filled your mouth. His hand sneaked down to pull your gown up your leg slowly. His fingers touched your calf gently. You sighed, muscles relaxing in his arms.

The moment did not last longer as your whole body tensed when his fingers reached your inner thigh. Daemon pulled back confused with the sudden tension that seemed to fill your body.

"Shall I lay on my belly again husband?" You asked, your voice oh so sweet but your words drove a knife into Daemon's heart when he realized that he never once cared for your pleasure, you must have not even known that you can be pleasured during the act.

"No, stay where you are angel, and enjoy the love I am about to show you" Daemon whispered against your lips. You gave him a look of confusion that made you look innocent, so innocent that Dameon would have mistaken you for a child.

His finger moved up to touch your small cloth, slightly damp but nowhere near ready to take a cock. His finger moved up and down feeling your slit through the fabric. Your breath hitched in your throat and you fisted the shoulder of his tunic. Daemon watched your facial expressions searching for any signs of discomfort to pain.

"Tell me if I am hurting you, sweet girl, alright? Say the word Ōdres when you want me to stop" Pain. Daemon watched as your eyes widened in shock.

"I shall not. A wife never stops her husband from getting his pleasure, my father said so" You whimpered, shaking your head. The fear in your eyes made Daemon want to return to your father and kill him in his spot. You were terrified of your father.

"You no longer belong to your father, you belong to me and you do as I say, if I hurt you- you say Ōdres, understood?" Daemon insisted. His grip on your thigh tightened. You nodded gulping.

"Let me hear you say it" Daemon begged, almost. Your eyes snapped up to look at him, your confidence was in shambles but his words made a silver of it return into your system.

"Ōdres" You whispered against his lips. Daemon smirked in victory.

"Good girl" He leaped up to kiss your lips. His fingers slowly moved your small cloth out of the way. His finger gently prodded at your hole earning a wine from your lips. You wiggled in his lap as your wetness began to increase Daemon lathered his finger with it before slowly and gently pushing his finger inside of you.

You gasped his name against his lips and he was quick to swallow the sound. It was like wine, he grew light-headed at the taste of your lips. Your fingers grabbed his hair in a desperate attempt at sanity.

His thumb found the button to all your nerves. You moaned loudly at the touch of his hand. The arm around your waist tightened when you wiggled in his lap.

"So good" You cried when a second finger joined his lone one inside of you. Daemon's eyes widened, he watched you hungrily eating up every reaction you gave him. He wished to stay in that moment forever.

"You like that?" Daemon curled his fingers inside of you in search of the rough spot inside that usually made the other women he was with cry in ecstasy.

"Yes!" your head fell back. Daemon leaned down to suck on your neck. Your behind rubbing on his fully erect member made it harder for him to focus but he forced himself to, this was about you and not him.

"Good girl, make the whole Keep hear how much your husband loves you" Daemon whispered in your ear before taking your earlobe in between his teeth. He curled his fingers against that spot again making your whole body shiver with pleasure.

"Something - ah- happening" You cried. You buried your face in his neck as your orgasm crashed into you. Daemon held you close trying to guide you through it. Not wanting to overwhelm you he pulled his fingers out of you and instead chose to push them into his own mouth, a involuntary moan broke through him at the taste, you tasted very sweet- sweeter than a fruit- sweeter than any desert he had ever consumed in his life in any land he has ever visited in his life.

"That is it, sweet girl, feel the pleasure" Daemon whispered in your ear, popping his fingers out of his mouth. He stood up from the chair with you in his arms and moved to the bed to place you on it, you deserved to be ravished on a bed.

"Let me undress you" Daemon begged. You look at him with hazy eyes but nodded nonetheless. Daemon untied the gown from behind and slid it down your body until you were left in your small cloth but that followed the sleeping gown soon after on the floor.

"Beautiful" Daemon's eyes racked all over your body, drinking you in as if he was seeing you for the first time, well technically he was, he has never paid much attention to your body during your time as newlyweds. His hands had a mind of their own as they felt you up from your thighs up to your stomach and chest pausing at your breasts, kneading the flesh needily.

"Daemon" Your back arched off the bed. Daemon's hands slid back down to your thighs and knees pushing them apart wanting to see your cunt. Your cunny glistened under the candlelight. You tried to close your legs again but he held your legs in place.

"The prettiest cunt I have ever seen in years, sweet girl" Daemon complimented. Your body was hit with a wave of heat, your skin turning red all over. Daemon could not control himself anymore and latched onto your cunt like a starved man.

You were the most beautiful woman in all the seven kingdoms and he wanted to make sure you knew that. He wanted to show you that not all men were monsters. He was going to take care of you.

He held you close as he made you cum on his tongue, once- twice and more than three times. He held you as he pushed his cock inside of you for the first time where your eyes locked with one another, no more fucking with you on your belly, no more pain, there will be only love and warmth. He touched you like you were made out of glass and he was afraid of breaking you.

He swallowed your moans and cries of ecstasy, the safe word long forgotten from your head as he brought you only pleasure and no pain. The beatings were long forgotten as his hands caressed you like you were the most precious thing to him in the world and not a mistake they regretted.

Daemon could not keep his eyes off of you every time you moaned, squeaked, or even breathed. With every thrust earned a reaction from you, hell even every move or touch earned a reaction from you, he hated himself for not doing this much earlier, for not appreciating you much earlier.

Daemon’s taglist: @luanasrta, @papichulo120627, @seulbeomie, @melaena-the-reborn, @k4marina, @fullmoonworshipper, @axelsagewrites, @mayrapaulina28, @vantestark

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