#alice not including her sister. love it for them.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Ten

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pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 7.4k

Chapter Summary: Of all the ways you managed to dream up in your head about seeing Dave again, this was never how you would have imagined it actually playing out.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. (SPOILERS IN THE TAGS!) Angst. Alcohol consumption. Brief violence and mentions of blood. Dave's feelings deserve their own warning 🫠. Dave's idiocy also deserves its own warning (we're working on him okay?). Dave gets a little pushy/forceful/needy with Reader but there's no actual threat or non-con, but figured I should mention it (you are held against a wall at one point but never physically hurt or threatened). Mentioned smut (including sex toys, anal play, light bondage, etc.).

HUGE thank you to @janaispunk for beta'ing and just being amazing in general 💜

Notes: This chapter starts off with Dave's POV and switches to Reader, I just figured we could use a little insight into Dave.

~ DAVE ~

Knelt down on one knee on the lawn of his ex-wife’s house, Dave could give a shit about the wet grass stain he could feel seeping into the denim of his jeans as he wrapped his arms a little tighter around both his girls, giving them one final goodbye hug. He pulls back slightly, frowning when he sees their wet faces staring back at him. He has to swallow the hard lump in his throat to hold back his own tears that want to fall so he can be strong for them so instead he plasters on the best smile he can manage and brings both hands up to ruffle the hair on both their heads.

“Don’t be sad Angels, I’ll see you again in two weeks okay?” he assures them and they both slowly nod their heads. He knew it would be hard dropping them off today after having them for the entire summer, not only for them but for him as well. It was going to be difficult to go from seeing them every day back to once every two weeks. Not to mention he was now saying goodbye to the only distraction in his life that was holding him together these past couple of months.

“I miss you already Daddy,” his youngest, Alice pouts before her chubby little arms wrap around his neck once more and squeeze. Dave lets out a little chuckle and hugs her back tightly before pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I miss you too, babies,” he sighs.

“Why don’t you girls go inside and wash up now,” his ex-wife Carol finally speaks up from up on the porch at the front door. “Dinner’s almost ready. Steve’s making your favorite,” she announces and both girls' faces light up like kids at Christmas as they finally pull away from their father.

“Sketti and meatballs!” Alice shouts excitedly.

“Bye Daddy,” his oldest, Molly, says one final time, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she takes her younger sister by the hand and leads her up the porch steps and they disappear into the house.

“Said the magic words huh?” Dave chuckles, standing up to his feet and dusting off his jeans.

“Sketti and meatballs” Carol shrugs, a fond smile on her lips. “You look good,” she says after a moment. “Better than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dave trails off, not wanting to get into why he came to her all but desperate a couple of months ago to let him take their children for an extended summer vacation. “Thanks again, I had a really great time with them.”

“Of course,” she nods. “Did you want to stay for dinner? I’m sure Steve made enough to feed an army. God knows I love him but that man can’t measure pasta to save his life,” she jokes of her new husband and Dave lets out a small chuckle but shakes his head.

“I should probably get going, let you guys have your family dinner.”

“Ok well… the usual time then? Two Saturdays from now?” she asks and Dave nods.

“I’ll be here.”

“Okay. And Dave?” she says just as he turns to head back to the driveway.

“Yeah?” he answers, turning back to face her.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Sure,” he smiles, unconvincing even to himself before he heads down the driveway and gets into his car.

He hadn’t been very candid with her about why he suddenly needed to “get away” and wanted to take his kids on an impromptu summer vacation, but she read him like a book anyway. “What’s her name?” is all she’d asked when he’d shown up on her doorstep a couple of months ago looking tired and distracted. “Doesn’t matter” he’d carelessly shrugged back, not meeting her gaze. Carol had pursed her lips and hummed her agreement but otherwise didn’t push. She knew better. Dave wasn’t exactly one for expressing his feelings, even when they’d been married.

The weeks that follow since bringing his kids back to their mother seem to pass by in a blur as he throws himself full force back into his work, even working on the weekends that he’s not with his kids, mostly as a distraction rather than a necessity. He doesn’t want to be reminded of what his Saturday nights used to be, before. And despite his ex-wife’s wishes he knows he’s not taking proper care of himself. He’s working too much, drinking too much (apart from the days when he has his children of course) and certainly not eating enough. He feels pathetic. Like some lovesick puppy and it’s definitely not a feeling he’s used to. Hell, he didn’t even feel like this when he got divorced or when his now ex-wife got remarried. He bought them a damn wedding present and danced with his daughters standing on his feet at the reception hall. Not that he was thrilled to be a divorced Dad or anything, but he couldn’t argue with Carol when she told him he wasn’t giving her enough of himself. He did feel like shit for months after the separation but after a while it faded and he was able to carve out a new life for himself and he was fine. Happy might have been a stretch, but he was existing just fine.

He of course hadn’t expected you and your husband to turn up barely a year later and turn his whole life upside for several months. It had started out as just fun. Blowing off steam, getting his dick wet, he was far from complaining about any of it. He loved how obedient you both were to him immediately, filling a void in him that he hadn’t engaged in nearly as much as he wanted to. Sure he’d had some rough fucks in his day but that was different than what he had with you. Having a partner - partners - that you built a trust with just brought everything to a new, heightened level and that, well, he hadn’t quite experienced before. But along with trust, of course other feelings start to emerge, feelings Dave had long since given up on expecting to have at this point in his life. And having these feelings for a fucking already married couple did not help his situation any. It was a mistake, he realizes in hindsight, spending your birthday with you both. An entire weekend wrapped up with you, spending the night together, waking up together, having meals together, it was… well, for Dave, it was everything. Everything he never even knew he was looking for and of fucking course he had to find it with two people who already had each other.

And now? Now what the fuck was he doing? Drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of overpriced bourbon at a bar, by himself, on a Friday night. Just like he’s found himself the past countless Friday nights, hoping he’d wake up the next morning and be able to forget about the two people who had apparently taken up permanent residence in the tight cavity of his chest, refusing to be let go.

He was fucking pathetic. And probably needed to get laid, too. That was one thing he could surely do something about easily enough. He’s been coming to this same bar every Friday night for a month now and one cute waitress in particular never seemed to stray very far from his table and he wasn’t that great of a tipper. He’d barely managed a second glance in her direction his past few visits but maybe tonight he should change that. The drinking wasn’t enough of a distraction anymore and this week was his off-week from seeing his kids so he didn’t have that to keep himself occupied either.

Mind made up he signals the waitress over to his table - whatever her name was. She’d told him probably a dozen times but fuck if he could remember it. It didn’t matter, after tonight he doesn’t plan on seeing her again and he’ll make sure she understands that before he actually leaves with her. For now, what’s the harm in a little fun? A decent pair of tits and a tight pussy is all he needs to get his head back on straight he thinks. And judging by the way the waitress basically comes bouncing over to him the moment he waves her over, it isn’t going to be much of a challenge. The only challenge for Dave will be when he closes his eyes as he sinks inside her, hoping, praying that it’s no longer the image of you that’s emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids.

~ YOU ~

It’s been nearly four months since your birthday. Since you last saw him.

In the time since that first weekend after Dave had disappeared from your lives, you and Marcus had found your rhythm again. Your lives are back to normal and, realistically, maybe even better than they’ve ever been. You were communicating so much more now and your physical relationship (which, you’d never had much of an issue with to begin with) was definitely thriving. Due to the increased communication, the two of you were always not only willing, but eager to talk more while in bed about anything you were particularly craving and put in the effort together for each other. It had really started the night Marcus had taken charge (a week after your birthday) and fully blossomed from there. There was one Sunday morning back a few months ago where the two of you laid in bed together with your laptop in front of you and were online shopping for fun new sex toys you both might enjoy. You filled your cart without judgment or shame and Marcus hastily typed in his credit card information when you were done browsing. The moment you heard the ‘swish’ of the order confirmation being sent, Marcus snapped the laptop closed, tossed it to the far corner of the bed and then all but pounced on you.

Early on when the two of you were still navigating your post-Dave waters Marcus had even asked you if you still wanted someone else in your lives. The role Dave was meant to (and had initially) played, you assume he meant (before it had gone and gotten complicated). You could tell by the way he asked you, his voice unsure and hesitant sounding, that it wasn’t something he wanted. And in all honesty, you didn’t want it anymore either and you were quick to assure him of that. Not only was Marcus indulging and fulfilling anything you desired, but whoever it was, they’d never be Dave anyway. It didn’t have to be said out loud that he was the only extra piece you’d both ever want in your marriage, you both knew it already.

Sunday mornings seemed to be when you’d find yourself thinking of and missing Dave the most, when you’d look around your bedroom in the aftermath of what your Saturday night had been. Saturday nights had become your routinely scheduled evenings where you and Marcus would get extra adventurous in bed, typically breaking in more of your new toys you’d purchased and just letting loose and taking out all your stresses of the week on one another.

One particular Sunday morning you remember lying next to Marcus who had just opened his beautiful sleepy eyes and you brushed his hair back from his forehead and then let out a little giggle followed by a sad sigh when your gaze caught site of the black fuzzy handcuffs that were still looped around one of the spokes in the headboard.

“He would’ve loved to see you like that,” you murmur, eyebrow raised playfully and you actually see Marcus’ ears turn pink and he bashfully hides his face in the pillow for a quick moment and laughs.

“You think so?”

“I know so baby. God you were so hot, at my mercy like that.”

Your blood begins to run hot just thinking about it again now. How he’d submitted to you. He’d laid down on his stomach, arms stretched above his head where you’d cuffed him to the bed and then you sat back on his thighs, massaging his ass with one hand while the other prepared the lube and the plug that the two of you had picked out together on your impromptu online shopping adventure a couple of weeks earlier in the other. It was the first time he’d ever let you do anything like that to him, though you’d discussed it a few times beforehand, and you were both pleasantly surprised how hot you found it.

You’d slowly fed him the plug, all the while gently rubbing his back with your free hand, soothing him and telling him how well he was doing for you. You still can’t erase from memory the way your breath hitched when he replied in a low, quivering voice, “yeah, I’m being a good boy?” God, the way the arousal instantly flooded you it was a miracle you were able to continue what you were doing and not abandon it all together to take care of yourself.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy,” you assured him, hand leaving his back to smoothing across the globes of his ass instead

Once you’d gotten it all the way inside and ensured he was comfortable you’d began to slowly maneuver it partially out and then back in, over and over again until it got to feeling so good for him that you’d gotten off his legs and let him get up on his knees when he’d begged you to let him fuck you.

You slid underneath his body, never uncuffing him, wriggling up the bed until you were face to face and left the plug seated deep in his ass as you helped guide his leaking tip to your entrance and he pushed inside. His hands were able to grip the spokes in the headboard so he had some leverage while still held captive in his position and he railed into you deep and hard, moaning like you’d never heard him before for the entire time, like he was on an entirely different plane of pleasure he hadn’t yet experienced.

Afterwards when you both lay spent and chests heaving with exhaustion you’d uncuffed him, gently removed the plug and gathered him in your arms, letting him cling to you with his head resting on your chest. You kissed and played with his hair, murmuring into the top of his head what a good boy he was for you and he just held you tighter until you’d both fallen asleep.

You loved your playful, risque and experimental Saturday nights, but you also loved the quieter, more intimate times as well. You loved waking up on a Sunday morning and lazily making love for hours, refusing to leave the comfort of your marital bed for most of the day. You loved weeknights sprawled out on the sofa relaxing after dinner and watching TV when you’d start necking like teenagers until he’d shove your pants down and slip inside of you, fucking you slow and deep until you both came and then he’d carry you up the stairs to bed. You loved nights when you were both too exhausted from your work days to do much of anything but still wanted to be close so you’d make out a little until he got hard and he would push inside your warm heat and then just wrap his arms around you and hold you until you’d both fall asleep with him inside you.

At the end of the day, well and truly, this had been what you both had wanted, originally. Dave was meant to come in, spice up your love life a little bit, teach you both a couple of things and then leave you to your lives with your newfound sexual knowledge. He’d done that, and yet, there was no denying that you still felt like a piece was just missing now.

A Dave York shaped piece.

You didn’t like to bring him up often to each other anymore. All it did was cause sadness for you both. You’d talked a lot early on and had eventually both admitted out loud your feelings you had for Dave but now there was no use bringing up his name anymore. He was gone and you had to accept it. It didn’t mean you couldn’t miss him, because oh, you missed him. All the time. But there was no use dwelling on something you had no control over, you had to move on. And you had, for the most part.

Or so you thought, until one Friday evening when your work colleagues managed to drag you out with them to a bar and there in the flesh, across the room of the dimly lit tavern, sat the one and only Dave fucking York.

You’d nearly spilled your drink on yourself when your head had turned and you saw him in your peripheral. He looked handsome as ever, wearing dark jeans and a white button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, top couple of buttons undone showing a teasing amount of perfect sun-kissed skin. Wherever his “emergency sabbatical” took him, it was apparently somewhere spent mostly outdoors in the sun you presume. His face looked a little thinner as well, his features more sharp and refined and you have to wonder if he’s been hitting the gym a lot more recently.

The only thing, frankly, that didn’t look good on him right now was the tiny blonde currently seated in his lap holding up a tray of shots you assume were meant for another table before Dave had intervened when something pretty caught his eye. You could practically feel your blood boiling at the sight before you, those deft fingers that knew your body all too well pulling and teasing at the belt loops of the tiny denim shorts the waitress was wearing while she threw her head back in laughter at something he’d said, eating up whatever attention he was willing to give her and you can’t say you blamed the girl. When the sly, sexy grin crossed his lips and he buried his face in her hair to undoubtedly whisper something absolutely filthy next to her ear and you saw her bite her lip in response, it felt like a hard slap across the face and everything happening around you instantly turned to white noise as you focused all your attention on the man across the room who, far as you could tell, hadn’t noticed you yet.

Before you do anything you quickly dig into your purse hanging on your chair for your phone and send a text to Marcus letting him know that Dave is here. His reply of ‘holy shit’ comes back near instantly but before you have a chance to type anything further you hear a loud voice bellowing from behind you for service, waiting for their shots apparently, and the tiny blonde regretfully starts to peel herself off of Dave’s lap to attend to her duties. Unfortunately Dave’s eyeline drifts to where the voice comes from, which you happen to be right in the cross hairs of. You see the tiniest flicker of shock etch across his features before his carefully crafted mask slips perfectly back into place and he gives you a small shit-eating grin that you wish you had the courage to slap right off of him. Eyes not leaving yours he simply picks up his beer and pulls another sip from it before he reaches out, grabs the hand of the waitress about to walk away and tugs her back into his lap, wrapping a possessive arm around her. His gaze never leaves you, even as his head tilts down to press his lips to the girl's shoulder.

Asshole.

Tears well in your eyes before you can stop them. He’s being a prick on purpose and you simply hate him in this moment. Dave York was a lot of things, but you’d never known him to be mean. Until now.

Not able to look at him another second you hastily push back from the table, your chair screeching across the hardwood loud enough to stop the idle chit-chat amongst your table of coworkers as they all stop to stare at you, having no clue what’s going on.

“I’ll be right back, just… need some air,” you explain curtly, not offering anything further or waiting for anyone to offer to accompany you.

You vaguely hear one of them calling your name questioningly as you stand up from the table and storm off towards the exit, passing Dave who’s now downing the entire tray of shots like they’re water.

Good, drink yourself half to death, you fucking idiot.

When the cool evening air hits you the moment you step outside it's like a brief reprieve and you take a deep breath, tears freely spilling down your cheeks now that you hastily try wiping away with the back of your hand. There’s a small crowd standing outside the front doors smoking cigarettes and vape pens but the chatter amongst them halts to a dead silence when the door slams shut behind you in your haste to get outside. Not in the mood for any onlookers, you quickly head off in the opposite direction and take the left turn down the alley at the side of the building for some privacy until you can catch your breath and, god willing, get your body to stop trembling. You realize too that you’d left your purse and your phone inside and you can’t possibly go back in there right now, not like this.

“Fuck,” you sigh into the desolate alley, stopping to lean your back against the cool brick and hanging your head, burying your face in your hands. The emotions of it all, of seeing him again, hits you like a ton of bricks and you let out a loud sob, your legs practically buckling from underneath you causing you to slide down the wall and squat down, elbows resting on your knees and face still buried in your hands as the now quieter sobs continue to rack your body.

You’re feeling just about every emotion under the sun right now and they’re all pouring out of you at once. You’re angry, jealous, sad, irritated, but maybe worst of all you’re reminded of just how fucking badly you still miss him. How badly you weren’t over him. And you hate yourself for it.

“Gotta light?”

That voice… of course you recognize it the second you hear it, even with his words slightly slurred and your face practically buried between your knees, and of course he had to follow you out here. The moment your head raises to look at his smug smirk with the cigarette dangling between his perfect lips you scowl, quickly rising to your feet and taking the two short strides over to where he stands in the middle of the alley and you snatch white stick from his mouth and immediately snap it in two, tossing it carelessly to the ground between you.

“Hey!” Dave barks at you, his voice sharp and loud as it echoes off the walls of the tight alleyway.

As if he has any right to be the one pissed off right now.

“Oh you don’t even smoke,” you argue back immediately, not in any type of mood to be taking shit from this man.

“I’m a social smoker,” he shrugs and you doubt even that’s the truth, he just wanted a reason to follow after you.

“You’re an asshole,” you bite back, not missing a beat.

He scoffs. “Somebody’s in a mood. Maybe you need that cigarette more than I do.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He’s on you before the last syllable even leaves your lips, both his large hands on your shoulders shoving you backwards until your back hits the wall and he’s crowding your space, leaving barely an inch of space between your two bodies that are now breathing heavily with adrenaline. You can smell the alcohol on him and you know he’s had a lot to drink. If you weren’t half buzzed already you could probably get there just by the smell wafting off of him.

“Think you’d rather I fuck you, hmm? That where all this attitude is coming from Baby?”

His hips force yours further into the unforgiving brick behind you as his hands leave your shoulders to grip your waist instead and you can feel the hard outline of his obvious desire pressing against you. You bite your lip to suppress the moan that’s begging to escape your throat but it slips through anyway; barely registering but he hears it. Of course he does. You can see the way the corner of his lip turns upward into a sly grin.

“There’s my girl.”

“I’m not your anything! You fucking left Dave. You left!” You raise your hands up to shove hard at his chest but he’s like an immovable wall.

“I know.”

His voice is suddenly soft, dare you say, remorseful sounding. You hate how your resolve and anger instantly starts to wane the moment he lets his guard down even the slightest bit.

“I know,” he repeats it again, softer, quieter, his forehead coming down to rest against yours where he slightly shakes his head back and forth. One hand lets go of the grip on your waist and he gently rubs the back of his knuckles up and down the top of your arm, just a barely-there touch that’s already causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh.

“What do you want?” you ask, trying to sound stronger than what you know you’re actually capable of right now. “Why did you follow me out here?”

“I want what you want”. His voice is suddenly at your ear and an involuntary shiver runs through your entire body. “Come home with me,” he tries, his voice slurring just slightly and you roll your eyes and attempt to put space between the two of you again. This time he’s not expecting it and you do manage to push him back a few inches and he wobbles on his feet.

“A drunk fuck so you can disappear again the minute it’s over, you think that’s what I want?” You’re practically screaming at him now, but you don’t care, he deserves it.

“C’mon,” he huffs, sounding annoyed as he quickly crowds your space once more, this time he manages to grab your hands and hoist them above your head, pressing them into the wall so you can’t push him off you again. “One last time for old times sake, huh? Let me fuck this attitude right out of you”

“I’m married, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Hasn’t exactly stopped us before,” he smirks and then lowers his face down so he can nuzzle into you, his nose grazing your ear and his smooth cheek brushing against yours and for a moment you feel yourself melting into his soft touch.

Your voice lacks the conviction you know it should when you rasp out a quiet "Dave, stop”. You won’t go home with him, you know you won’t. You’d never hurt Marcus like that (again), but the smell of his familiar cologne on his shirt collar, the way his warm skin feels pressed against yours and how your body seemingly just fits into the contours of his own you can’t find it in you to immediately try and push him away again either. It’s been so long, you want to just feel him. Just for a moment.

“Kiss me,” he tries, voice suddenly at your ear before he moves just slightly until his lips hover on yours. He doesn’t force it on you, waiting for you to make that final move and close the distance between you. It takes everything in you, but you manage to turn your face away and you hear his desolate sigh in response, hot breath fanning your cheek.

“Take a hint buddy,” a deep voice suddenly interrupts and both your heads snap to the side where you see an enormous man standing at the opening of the alley, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He must be a good six inches shorter than Dave but easily has over 100lbs on him. He’s a very wide, stocky man with a long ponytail and a studded leather vest over top of a faded t-shirt and covered in tattoos, looking like he belongs in some type of biker gang. You immediately recognize him as the man from earlier who tried to summon the waitress from Dave.

He fishes a lighter from his pocket and brings the flame up to light the cigarette and takes a long drag before breathing a large cloud of smoke out.

“She’s not interested,” he repeats when Dave doesn’t loosen his hold on you. “And you’re paying for those six shots by the way, prick.”

“What, you think she’s saving herself for you?” Dave laughs, incredulous. His hands suddenly leave yours, allowing your arms to drop down to your sides and he takes a step back from you, fully turning towards the man who’s now taken a few tentative steps into the alley. Dave reaches a hand into his back pocket fishing out his wallet. He pulls what looks to be a fifty from the bill fold, scrunches it up to a ball and throws it in the direction of the man standing in front of him before closing his wallet and returning it to his pants.

“There, now fuck off.”

“What’s your problem man?” The bystander asks, flicking his cigarette away and taking two long strides forward, the fifty note left crumpled and forgotten on the ground.

“My problem? My problem is fucking assholes who can’t mind their own business. Go fuck off and get your micro dick sucked somewhere else.”

Your brow furrows as you listen to Dave seemingly intentionally picking a fight with this complete stranger. This was not the calm, cool, collected Dave that you’re used to.

You didn’t like whoever this Dave was.

“Wanna try saying that to my face, shithead?” The shorter man challenges, taking another step towards Dave.

“Dave, just leave it,” you try but he waves a flippant hand at you, not even bothering to look in your direction.

“How bout I get you a stepstool and you say it to mine, small fry.”

“Don’t need a stool to lay you out right here on the pavement,” he challenges right back, taking yet another step closer until they’re just inches apart, the shorter man apparently not intimidated whatsoever and likely rather comfortable in a fight, you assume. What he doesn’t know, however, and what you do, is Dave’s extensive military training. Even drunk you have no doubt he could easily kill this man and barely break a sweat, if he wanted to.

“Leave it alone Dave, c’mon, I mean it!” You try again but you might as well be talking to the wall behind you, as neither of the men are paying you any attention any longer. Ironic, since you’re half the reason the fight started in the first place. Men.

“Tell you what,” Dave begins, voice smug. “First one’s free,” he finishes, raising his arms up in the air, defenseless.

Before you even have a chance to plead with them once more the other man swings, clocking Dave right in the gut that has him doubling over for a few brief seconds before he quickly rights himself again, and, to your astonishment, starts laughing.

“That it?” Dave laughs, back to his full height again. “C’mon, again,” he goads.

This time the stranger's fist connects with Dave’s face, causing his head to swing left with the impact he puts behind it. You quickly scramble over to Dave who lets out another chuckle as he wipes the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and turns back to face his foe.

“Pussy,” Dave taunts before spitting blood to the ground at the man's feet. “Why don’t we call the waitress out from inside, she probably hits harder than you do.”

“Dave!”

You watch it happening like it’s in slow motion, how the man grabs Dave’s head with both hands and smashes it into the brick wall and Dave, for whatever reason, doesn’t even fight it. It makes you think of those videos you had to watch in Drivers Ed as a teenager, how the drunk driver in the scenario is typically the one to survive a collision because their response time is so slow their body just lets go and goes with the flow rather than bracing for impact. The part that really tears you up inside though is you don’t even think it’s the alcohol, you think he’s doing it on purpose, wanting to get hurt. You hear the loud smack as his forehead hits the brick and you instantly surge forward, taking the brunt of his weight as he collapses into you and you both slowly slide down to the ground with him in your arms because you can’t hold his weight.

“Get up, you piece of shit!” the stranger yells, furious, and you scream, covering Dave’s body with your own where he lays in your lap as the man winds up to kick Dave while he’s down.

“Enough!” A third man’s voice shouts and relief floods your whole system as you recognize it’s Marcus. In a flash he’s crossing the alley, grabbing the stranger by his shirt and shoving him into the brick and holding him there. Marcus was definitely ‘a lover not a fighter’, but he could certainly hold his own when it came down to it if need be. You’re not scared any longer.

“You alright Honey?” he asks, quickly chancing a glance over to where you’re kneeled on the ground with Dave’s head in your lap, surveying the laceration above his eyebrow.

The man in Marcus’ grasp looks at the two of you confused, then when he notices Marcus’ wedding ring where his fists are cuffed in his shirt, his eyes widen in disbelief.

“Holy shit, is this your wife? I just did you a favour pal,” he scoffs, lightly shoving at Marcus and Marcus backs off just slightly, letting go but staying close in case the man wants to go at Dave again who’s practically unconscious at this point.

“Look it's fine just… go back inside please,” Marcus huffs before he turns back to you and frowns. “Think we can get him up?”

Between the two of you and Dave’s slight cooperation (as much as he can manage with not only how intoxicated he is but how he surely just got few screws knocked loose thanks to that brick wall) you manage to get him up and he looks around a little disoriented, shaking his head while you and Marcus flank either side of him and hold him up.

“Marcus? You’re here,” Dave slurs and then turns his entire body into him and practically collapses into his arms in what you think was meant to be a hug. Marcus manages to hold Dave upright, both his arms holding under Dave’s armpits to keep him on his feet.

“I’m here,” Marcus croaks out. “I’ve got you.”

“The fuck?” the stranger mutters, shaking his head as he watches what must surely be a very strange reaction to a husband finding another man hitting on his wife in a dark alley. “Good luck with… well, all of that pal,” he says with a wave of his hand in the direction of the three of you before he turns on his heel, bends down to pick up the discarded fifty and heads back out of the alley and presumably back toward the bar.

“I’m drunk,” Dave suddenly breaks the silence, pushing back slightly from Marcus and wavering on his feet. His brows furrow in confusion and he wipes at his forehead. When his hand comes into his eyeline and he sees blood smeared on it, his features scrunch up again. “And I think I hit my head?”

“It’s ok, do you think you can help us get you to the car? It’s close,” Marcus tries to explain to Dave who manages a small nod. You get behind Dave and lift one of his arms up and turn him slightly, draping his arm over your shoulders as you move with him to stand at his side, Marcus now holding up the other. Thankfully Marcus had hastily just parked the car in a loading zone directly in front of the bar after you failed to answer any of his texts or calls so the walk was quick and you managed to get Dave shoved into the front passenger seat. You quickly run back inside to grab your purse and phone and say a quick goodnight to your coworkers and then hurry back out to the car. Dave mumbles off his address once Marcus slides into the driver’s seat and Marcus gives a non-commital grunt of acknowledgement before he pulls away from the curb and drives away. Barely two minutes later Dave’s head is tilted all the way back into the headrest and he’s passed out. You lean forward from the backseat to address Marcus.

“We can’t take him home like that. What if he has a concussion or something?”

“I’m not taking him home” Marcus quickly responds, shaking his head.

With a satisfied sigh you lean back into your seat.

What a fucking disaster.

Barely ten minutes later Marcus pulls into your driveway, hitting the button clipped to the sun visor to open the garage. The last thing he needs is for his neighbors to see the two of you dragging a bloodied half unconscious man into your home in the middle of the night.

You only manage to get him as far as the couch on the main floor, an upstairs bedroom too harrowing of a feat to attempt you presume with Dave’s inability to offer much of his own assistance. With a loud grunt you manage to drop him down to a seated position on the sofa and he immediately falls back into the soft cushions.

“Stay with him, I’ll get some water and something for his head,” Marcus says and you nod your head.

He’s only gone a minute or so, taking a little longer because he couldn’t find the Aspirin bottle right away, but when he returns with two extra strength tablets and a full glass of water he stops in his tracks just inside the living room.

Dave is flopped on his side, face resting on your lap facing where Marcus stands while your hands delicately card through his hair.

He’s murmuring quiet little ramblings with his eyes closed, something about “fucked up” and “so sorry” and you just gently hush him, running your fingers through his sweat damp hair.

“We need to clean him up” you tell Marcus when you notice him standing there. There’s blood still smeared across his forehead but thankfully not very much, he hadn’t been actively bleeding for very long. At least you know he doesn’t require any stitches.

Marcus sighs and crosses the room, getting down on his haunches in front of the couch in Dave’s direct eye line.

“Hey Buddy,” he tries softly. “Need you to sit up for me, have some water and take these.”

Dave grunts, noncommittally, but ultimately does try and push himself up. You both help until he’s back into a seated position and Marcus hands him the two white tablets. Dave stares at them for several seconds before tossing them back into his throat and swallowing without water. You tisk at him and shove the water glass into his hand.

“Drink,” you order. He does. He finishes near the entire glass in one go and your eyes widen in surprise.

“There,” he sighs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can I go now?”

You’re so frustrated you could smack him. One second he’s being a total asshole, the next he’s trying to kiss you, then he’s purposely getting the shit beat out of him, then practically crying in your lap, and now he’s back to being obstinate again.

He was right about one thing. He is fucked up. And you don’t think it’s just the booze.

“I’m sorry, no,” you shake your head, trying to sound less angry than you feel. The last thing you need is to pick another fight with this unpredictable man right now. “Baby, you’re bleeding”

The endearment slips out completely by accident. You don’t even notice you’ve said it but both Dave and Marcus do, their widened gazes turning to you at the exact same moment.

“Dave,” you quickly try to correct, shaking your head.

He lets out a little snort and nods his head, like he’s willing to let you get away with your little slip up.

“You hit your head really hard, you can’t be alone tonight. If you can make it upstairs you can have the guest room, if not, we can make up the couch. In the morning you’re free to go, I promise.”

“Fine,” he relents, shoulders dropping.

“Think you can help us get you upstairs?” you ask and he nods his head. Both you and Marcus throw one of his arms around your shoulders and help him up, taking each of the steps up the staircase slowly. Dave seems to be somewhat coming out of his fog and much more helpful this time, thankfully. You’re pretty sure it’s just the alcohol working against him now, his brain mostly cleared from the fog of the head trauma. Once you reach the top of the stairs you go to turn towards the guest room but Dave plants his feet and attempts to twist his body away from it, toward the direction he knows your and Marcus’ master bedroom is instead. You and Marcus both share a look behind Dave’s back where you’re holding him and after a moment Marcus gives you one solitary nod, acquiescing to Dave's wishes.

Once inside the room you unravel yourself from Dave as Marcus sits down on the edge of the mattress, bringing Dave with him to sit next to him. You head off to the bathroom to wet a washcloth and come back into the room to gently wipe away the blood and dirt at Dave’s forehead.

“What the fuck were you thinking,” you mutter as you clean him up best you can, shaking your head slightly. He doesn’t answer and you don’t expect him to, nor do you really even want him to in his condition. He needs to sleep it off, maybe you’ll get some clarity in the morning.

Once he’s cleaned up Marcus lifts Dave’s arm off of him and puts it into his lap. He isn’t sure what to do next so he leaves Dave there and wanders off to the bathroom to find you where you’re rinsing off the washcloth in the sink.

“What do we do with him?” he asks quietly.

“Well… honestly it’s probably better we’re in the same room anyway, that way if something happens in the middle of the night we’re there,” you reason and Marcus nods.

“Ok…” he sighs, following after you as you exit the bathroom and flick off its light.

You stop just outside the bathroom when you see Dave passed out in the middle of your bed, all his clothes - including his shoes - still on and you sigh.

“I got it,” Marcus says, going to the end of the bed and untying the laces of Dave’s shoes before placing them on the ground. That’s all you undress of him though, he’ll be fine sleeping in the rest of his clothes. Marcus was already in sweats and a t-shirt but you were still in work clothes so go over to your dresser and fish out a pair of pajamas and quickly change. Once you’re ready for bed you turn out the lights and both you and Marcus crawl in on either side of Dave. You can’t help but reach a hand out and brush it through his hair as his light snores fill the quiet, darkened room.

Fuck, you really missed him.

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

#dave york #marcus pike #ppcu fanfiction #dave york x marcus pike x reader #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #dave york x you #dave york smut #marcus p #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[trinitymarconeptune]

𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓪.𝓴.𝓪 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓱𝔂, 𝓒𝓪𝓲𝓽, 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓽

#the sims 3 #sims 3 #ts3 #the sims #simblr #catherine hussey #her full name is catherine veronica hussey actually #she has a younger sister named stephanie whom she had a turbulent relationship but they love each other dearly and unconditionally #an abusive and unstable mother who is also a narcissist and one of the causes why catherine resorted to drugs besides of homophobia #but good for her for overcoming it so early in her lifetime #as for her dad #he left the family and divorced their mother when the girls were 4 and 6 years old respectively #and ever since he never contacted them maybe one time or two times #common occurence sadly #her life is mostly chaotic for sometime with all the addiction stuff coming to terms with her sexuality and mental health #she also manages to have something similar to a friend group #like true friends not just the people to hang out with #she also had several casual relationships with women including some of her friends #and then alice happened long story short #while alice will pursue career in clothing business #catherine will rise to work in music label or recording company #tw: homophobia mentions #tw: drug mentions

[queers-gambit]

And Let Me Love You Anyway

[ part two of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader only description given: red hair and Daemon's able to lift you

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part one: "Tell Me Every Terrible Thing you ever did, And let me love you anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"Alicent, we're late," you sighed with a frown, wiping your sweaty palms nervously as your necklace was latched in place and perfume spritzed on your pulse points. YES - that included your ankles.

"That's the point, sister, we're supposed to be late. It sends a message."

Your eyes rolled, snipping, "The King will not be pleased. I am not his wife, he can get angry at me, you know!"

"He'll manage," she snapped, glancing at Talya. She continued, "He dismissed Father for telling him a truth he would rather ignore. So much so, after years of service, he'd - "

"Yes, yes, the King removed Father as Hand, sent him back home," you nodded with understanding. "But we both know how he feels about his daughter, The Princess! The rumors circulating would cost him his life in the end, we are lucky he was only sent home!"

"Rumors! Rumors, sister, truly!? Tell me, do you think Father lied?"

"I know he didn't."

"Exactly why we're late to tonight's affair," she huffed, fixing her hair in the mirror again. "It's a statement, it's deliberate. We will stand out, prove we are not happy with the turn of events. Why offer Rhaenyra blind respect when she continues to do as she pleases - regardless of consequences."

You paused, sensing her anger brewing and trying to distract, "You know, Ser Lyonel Strong is not a bad replacement for Father."

"This is not about Ser Strong."

"Isn't it? Father's served long and faithfully, but perhaps it is time for a new guidance. Lyonel Strong is a smart man - qualified, even!"

"Yes," she agreed, turning to face you in a shimmering emerald gown. "But this is still an injustice to our family that I fear I cannot overlook any longer. It's been weeks..."

"Yes," you allotted, nodding with a sigh. "All right, yes, you are right, sweet sister. This is all just - it's a lot to take in, to try and digest. And we talk of playing a game with the Throne - I do not think we've the strength to endure alone."

"This is not about Lyonel Strong, sister! It's about Father and the disrespect the Crown continues to offer. Remember that," she advised softly.

You nodded, "I know, sister."

She frowned, "And remember... They aren't our kin. Despite previous displays of kindness, the Targaryens have made it clear that we are not family to them. They are not blood to us, sister; they will protect their own, not us. If we wish to survive, we will need to ally ourselves."

"I understand," you told your younger sister. "I am not arguing, I know what our reality is now - I merely implore to explore the routes that won't label us as traitors."

"I know, we have much to discuss going forward. But none of that for now," she took a long breath, smiling as she looked you up and down, complimenting, "you look stunning. Truly, you might outshine the bride tonight."

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that, and that The Princess has a mature bone in her body - though I do not hold out hope." You smiled at her, "But enough about me, you look - you look like a Queen, sister-dearest. Gods, you're gorgeous, you look just like Mummy." The two of you shared an emotional, watery smile; embracing tightly as reality settled in your guts: it was you two Hightower Ladies against the whole of the Targaryen clan. "Come," you decided, taking a deep breath, "are we ready to go? Any later and I fear we might not get any cake."

"Oh, you and cake," she smirked, looking you over in a matching emerald, lighter-weight gown that had layers of thin fabrics clinging and dripping from your form. Golden jewelry was clasped around both your necks, wrists, tight around your fingers, and plugged into your ear piercings.

The Queen took your arm and left the dressing chambers you took refuge in, coming to a gasping halt when you were greeted by a well-groomed man in green velvet. "Father," Alicent exclaimed in shock.

"My daughters," he smiled, offering both arms, "I do believe we are now fashionably late. Hmm?"

"Exactly as we intended," you mused, taking his arm. "How is this possible? How are you here?"

"I was invited, if you believe that," Otto answered, the three of you walking slowly. "Though, I suspect your sister had something to do with that?"

"I only told Viserys I'd be deeply offended if you were ignored for this event," Alicent quipped.

"None the less, I am happy to escort my daughters to such a historic event," he spoke diplomatically, aware of the guards and servants milling around. Otto lead the way to the Throne Room - where you could hear King Viserys' echoing speech from the foyer.

None of you spoke, approaching the open doors and pausing to let everyone see the united Hightowers. Alicent wore her dark auburn locks pulled back from her face to cascade in thick ringlets down her back, your own Hightower-red hair left down around your face with the longer locks pinned off your neck. The entire room - the entire court - all wedding attendees and royal procession stared at you three in shock for entering during the King's speech. Your statement was clearly made.

Even from this distance, you could see how startled Rhaenyra was by your arrival, needing to fight off a smirk of amusement in order to keep your neutral façade.

You and Alicent walked arm-in-arm with your father, the once-Hand, down the stairs and up the aisle of banquet tables full of people, staring forward and giving no emotion away. The people buzzed in quiet gossip. The attending Hightowers of Oldtown, sitting closest to the royal banquet table because of their relation to the current Queen, stood first; everyone else following in a show of respect.

You and Alicent paused to let Otto sit with his relatives at the lower banquet table before joining arm-and-arm together. Over the muttering of the entire room, you whispered almost mutely, "Be kind, remain composed, we'll kill 'em with kindness."

Alicent gave a subtle flex to give indication she understood.

When you looked up at the table you approached under the King's heavy glare, you noticed there was an empty chair between Ser Strong and... Prince Daemon? Was that really him? When did he get here? Why was he back? It's only been a few weeks!

Your shock did not slow you, and as you approached the table reserved for the Royal Family, you saw Daemon smirking at your theatrics. Alicent did not let you part from her side as she greeted Princess Rhaenyra with a sickly-sweet voice, "Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."

She ignored any other reaction to let go of your arm, kiss her husband's cheek in greeting, stand beside him, in front of her chair, and stare forward with zero other emotion.

"Congratulations, Princess," you whispered, bowing your head. "Your Grace," you acknowledged, doing the same and taking the empty chair between Lord Hand and Rogue Prince only to stoically stare forward in silence. You did as Alicent did, not looking at any other, and just waiting for a pregnant moment that seemingly never ended.

"Please be seated," Viserys finally permitted, everyone sitting at his behest. He cleared his throat, whispering to Lyonel Strong, "Where was I?"

"The joining of the two Houses, Your Grace."

You swallowed when a warm hand laid on your right thigh, Viserys continuing his speech. You glanced at Daemon, seeing his smirk, and instead of throwing his hand off you, you laid your own over his to give a long squeeze. You had wrestled with the idea of his favorite whore, Mysaria, and the idea of whatever he did with Princess Rhaenyra for weeks. Then when you heard word that his wife, Lady Rhea Royce, had met her untimely end, you knew he was involved, yet said nothing. You could only think deeply about what it all meant - and how you fit into the equation that was Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did...

All you could understand was the overwhelming affection you held for him. His shocked-wide-eyes found yours for a long moment, seeming communicating telepathically - you telling him you wanted him. His hand tightened to keep hold of yours, hidden from the public for the time being.

And let me love you anyway...

You tuned back into the King's speech in time to clap with the others, showing your support of the union you technically helped influence between Targaryen and Velaryon.

However, you caught the way Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, sighing to yourself; having heard through long private dinners what Alicent came to know and why this upset her so much. How strange to learn Ser Criston Cole admitted to Ali that he was coerced into soiling the Princess' purity - not her Uncle Daemon, like rumored. Yet none the less, the girl had sworn on her beloved, dearly departed mother to Alicent that she was still a maiden... A huge, glaring lie - that both you and Ali took personally.

You found all of this terribly interesting, yet did not let the distain show so boldly. After Daemon came to you in confession, you had yet to speak a word outside of public politeness to the Princess; feeling betrayed by what your lover had told you. He had been right: you were Rhaenyra's friend, she wasn't yours. So, you demoted yourself to create distance.

When the drums rumbled and the Princess took to the dance floor with her intended, you spared Daemon a look and muttered, "You do not have to look so annoyed."

"I'm not, sweet one."

"Nor so amused," you tacked on.

Daemon smirked at you, leaning in and pondering, "I am only wondering if you would care for a dance later, my Lady?"

You lied, speaking in a teasing tone, "I'm not one for dancing, my Prince."

"A single dance with me, then. Just one, pretty lady."

"You're pushy," you whispered, nudging him to keep quiet; but the grin on your lips assured him you were completely enraptured by his antics.

He sat back with a smirk, watching his niece and her fiancé dance. The entire courtroom clapped at the end, others flooding to the spaces around them. You glanced over as your sister stood from her seat, meeting your eyes and offering only a soft smile before descending from the table to approach your aunt and uncle from Oldtown - standing with your father on the side of the room. You sighed under your breath, your lover tightening his grip on your thigh.

Daemon made for a great distraction. "Did you hear the news?" He asked softly, reaching for his goblet of wine with his free hand.

"Which news would that be, my Prince?" You asked casually, pretending your heart wasn't hammering in your chest.

"Of my dear wife's passing."

"I did, actually," you fought off your smirk. "I am truly sorry to hear of it, I understand Lady Rhea was truly one of a kind. You shouldn't speak ill of the dead, love," you reminded in a whisper.

"Hmm. Don't be sorry, I'm not," he eased.

"You're not? Your wife died, Daemon..."

"I know," he met your gaze, "I'm not sorry because now it gives me vocation to follow my own desires."

You smirked, "Which desire will you follow first?"

His hand tightened to a bruising grip. He was not able to answer yet because your gaze was caught by movement, Rhea Royce's cousin approaching slowly, evidently a cup or two deep in the wine; making you remove Daemon's hand so you both could sit casually - without touching.

The man gruffly leered at Daemon, "In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes." Your lover spared you an exasperated look as he tacked on, "Even Targaryens."

"Who are you?" Daemon asked dully.

"This is Ser Gerold Royce, my Prince," you told him softly, "of Runestone."

Daemon perked his brow, asking sarcastically, "An excellent show of your knowledge, my sweet lady, but what does that matter to me?"

You didn't answer, Ser Lyoel Strong (who was listening in) didn't answer, because Ser Gerold was approaching the table by climbing the stairs. He growled at Daemon, "I am cousin to your late Lady wife."

"Ah, yes... Terrible thing," Daemon offered. "I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident."

"You know better than anyone, it was no accident."

Through a smirk, Daemon quipped, "Are you confessing some guilt, Ger Gerold?"

"I am making an accusation."

You shared a look with Lyonel to your left, catching sight of the King's turned head - showing he was listening, too. Daemon easily deflected, "Here, in King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you." This angered Ser Gerold visibly, the man stepping closer, but obviously restrained himself. Your lover continued, "The truth is I'm glad you've come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance."

"What inheritance?" Ser Gerold demanded.

"Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me. She stood to inherit all of Runestone. Did she not?" Daemon had Ser Gerold pinned by legality, the man looking disturbed by his own realization. So, naturally, Daemon taunted, "After my niece's wedding, I plan to fly to the Eyrie and petition Lady Jeyne myself. Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold."

The man sheepishly walked away, his inebriated mind whirling with possibilities. You glared, pinching Daemon's arm so you could scold him when he turned to face you, "That wasn't very kind."

"And?"

"You don't truly care for Runestone," you snapped. "Now that man will fear for his home, fret over the laws, and that's not very nice."

He sighed, "What would you have me do, sweet one?"

"Leave House Royce to grieve and rearrange their succession without your pettiness."

Daemon smirked, "Whatever my Lady wants."

"You're dreadfully annoying tonight, do you know that?" You whined. "I'm going for a dance, and no, this is not an invitation to follow," you warned him - albeit playfully - before standing to excuse yourself.

"Sister," Alicent paused you before you could pass her by. "Are you well?"

"Yes, yes, just felt like dancing, too much energy to just sit. Come join - "

"No, no, I should sit. Eat," she smiled. "Perhaps tonight will be when you meet your match and we can plan another wedding."

"Perhaps," you mused, squeezing her hand. "You all right? What did Father and Uncle say?"

"Later," she whispered. "Go on, go."

You joined the stream of people dancing, instantly grinning when you were welcomed joyfully by different suitors. The band played a lively beat, the crowd cheering in rhythm; you being twirled around men and women with matching grins.

You heard your name being cheered through a small giggle.

"Hi, Princess," you greeted Rhaenyra as you both marched along to the beat. You reminded yourself this was all a game and if you wanted to survive, you'd have to play your part strategically. So, you quipped as you danced with Ser Arryn Blackwell, "Nice party you've got, huh?"

"Oh, you know how we Targaryens do," she teased. "Where've you been lately? I feel as if I've hardly seen you."

"Just busy with chores since Father was replaced as Hand," you answered, spinning under someone's arm.

Nyra didn't comment on that, instead, waiting a few moments before complimenting, "That's a beautiful dress, really goes with your hair!"

"That's what I hoped for," you gasped girlishly, deciding to play nice when she reached for your hands. You felt weak for a moment, but the truth was, you missed your friend... So, you might've giggled a bit when you joined hands, dancing together instead of with anyone else. With kindness, you offered, "You look gorgeous, as well, Princess, I love this dress - "

"Yes, yes, we all look fantastic," Daemon interrupted abruptly, crowding over you, asking quickly, "can I speak to you a moment, my Lady? The Princess won't mind, right, Rhaenyra?"

"Uh, no, I guess..." She eyed the two of you with suspicion as she stayed in-beat with the music.

"Daemon, not now - "

"We need to talk," he pulled you from where you danced, glancing back at the head banquet table as he took your hand, and lead you deeper into the crowd. He turned you to face him, pacing a small circle around you, demanding, "Do you still want to marry me?"

"What? Why are you asking now?"

"Because I just asked your father for permission," he seethed, pausing in front of you, "and he outright refused, saying he's negotiating with the fucking Lannisters. I need to know what you want."

"I was not aware what I wanted mattered to you, the man who views marriage as a political arrangement," you eyed him with a curled lip of annoyance.

"What arrangement could I want? Your sister is Queen, my family is bound to the Hightowers already. My political marriage is recently dissolved, I am free to do as I please, regardless of what others want or say - "

"Then tell me what you want. Tell me plainly what you want from me, Daemon, no more pretty words and veiled truths. Be plain."

"You said I had a year, and look - it's been weeks. Weeks, my love, how much more plain can I be? I'm here, now, free to marry, and I need to know if you still want to marry me. I'll marry you tomorrow - "

"Oh, please! Would you steal me away?" You mocked with a chuckle. "Take me to Dragonstone? Make me your little wife that you'll come to resent, too? Just as you did Rhea?"

He reached out to aggressively hold your cheek and jaw. "I had no choice in my first marriage, I could never come to resent you - you're all I've ever wanted. I'd do anything for you," Daemon snarled over your lips, "including risking your father's wrath. I'd do anything to make sure we end up together, you are my heart - do not forget that."

"Then pull out your sword, cut them all down," you purred, feeling his hand tighten, "and claim me as your own - do not let anyone stop us."

His lips hovered over yours, breathing the same air, and before he could respond or kiss you, a woman screamed shrilly from behind you. Daemon instantly latched onto your body as a crowd formed to your left and right, and when you both looked, you were shocked to see the commotion happening at your feet.

"Love - "

"Daemon," you paused him, shocked as Ser Criston Cole was engaged in a fist fight with some Velaryon knight before Ser Laenor Velaryon, the groom, was tackling him to the side. What an interesting display of protectiveness from Ser Laenor over his knight.

Daemon rushed in your ear, "Do not look - come away with me."

"Wait," you held his hands to your waist, letting him crowd into your back as Cole had punched Laenor to the side and straddled the blonde on the floor once more.

He landed one blow before the knight was brandishing a dagger; but the White Cloak caught his arm and easily snapped it broken, startling the crowd. Beyond your ring of spectators, other men were trading blows and engaged in their own fights; total chaos taking over the whole of the Throne Room. You flinched back into Daemon's embrace when Cole screamed like a wild man in the mountains, repeatedly pounding his fist into the knight's face; literally caving it in, creating a human minced meat pie.

Someone better contact Mrs. Lovett!

"No more," Daemon decided, Cole rearing himself back as Daemon stooped to heave you over his shoulder. He was able to find safe (enough) passage through the people, approaching the royal banquet table. "Hey, hey," he whispered, setting you down and taking your face in his hands, the wailing of Laenor Velaryon seeing his murdered knight echoing in the Throne Room. "You all right? You hurt? Look at me, love, are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm okay," you whispered, swallowing unsurely; reaching up to hold his wrists. "I'm okay."

"Sure? You shouldn't have seen that - "

"It's all right," you assured, stroking his wrists. "I'm okay, Daemon, truly. Just... A little startled, maybe?"

"What's this then?" Harwin Strong smirked, panting lightly from his rescue mission as the Princess was attending her father, the King. "You two hit it off then, yeah? Is it me or are sparks flying?"

"Something like that," you whispered, trying to regulate your breathing after the adrenaline-inducing scrimmage.

"Easy does it, love," Daemon whispered, keeping you close as you didn't let go of his hands; wanting to stay connected. He told Harwin, giving a half-shrug, "They aren't sparks. She's everything to me."

"Perhaps your second wedding will go better than this one," Harwin sighed, hands on his hips.

"In some cultures, deaths at a wedding are considered good luck," you muttered, Daemon snorting lightly in amusement before running his thumbs over your cheekbones in soothing gestures.

"Didn't your wife just pass, Prince Daemon?" Your father demanded publicly with a heavy glare. "You'd offer insult to her memory by remarrying so quickly?"

"I've grieved Lady Rhea plenty, Ser Hightower, it's time to look to the future," Daemon declared, eyes daring your father to challenge him. "The Lady Hightower and I will wed. The sooner, the better, in truth."

And history would never be the same.

"What?" Rhaenyra demanded, whirling around at the news, making all others pause in confusion. "What did you say?"

"That I intend to marry the Lady Hightower."

"Her? Her? Fucking her - who is more prude than woman?!"

Well, that was mildly offensive...

"Rhaenyra - "

"What makes you think you're worthy?" She demanded of you, turning from her father to stalk across the platform. "Worthy of a man like Daemon, of a husband like Daemon? You've done nothing to - to deserve such a title! The title of Princess, of wife!"

You were honestly confused to your core.

"I deserve a man like he - not someone like you!" She continued, shocking the group as the Kingsguard cleared the Room of any lingering stragglers to keep this as private as possible. "You think I didn't see you on my tour? You were fawned over, all wanted to talk with you, but were forced to line up for me! You rejected them all on your own, and now I see why! You wanted to wait until the Lady Rhea passed, which makes me wonder - what part did you play in that?"

"Rhaenyra!" You gasped.

"What? Honestly, it would make sense - the day Daemon's banished, you weren't seen! I wouldn't be shocked if you were seen somewhere lurking in the Vale! You cannot have it all - you've always wanted my life, and now look! You have to have what I have, and now you've taken a liking to my uncle after our scandal! What? He wasn't interesting before? You heard rumors about us and decided you wanted him for yourself? Just because he was mine first? You just want to be me, you always have - you've always reeked of jealousy! This is all you wanted, to steal my family, and - "

"That's enough," Daemon tried. "You are out of turn here, Rhaenyra, do not make this worse."

"Why? Because little Lady Hightower's façade of being a respectable, pure woman is now tarnished?"

"We share one dance, albeit intimate, sit next to each other at a single dinner, shared some conversation, and you now think it's appropriate to call my virtue into question? What of your own, Princess? You just admitted to scandal with Daemon - but I wonder why the service of Moon Tea if your virtue was unimpeachable?" You demanded, feeling defensive on a new level. Even Alicent straightened up at your words.

However, Daemon rushed to add, "With all due respect, Princess, I don't want you, and you can't claim me as your own when you never had me. You might be angry, but it is no use to take it out on my intended, she is of rare stock and breed - she will not be questioned. Nor will my intentions with her."

Rhaenyra snarled, "Yeah? You don't want me? Well, you wanted me enough to try and fuck me at that whorehouse!"

There were gasps and murmurs all around, but Rhaenyra was glaring at you and Daemon, still standing together. His arms actually dropped to hold your waist, keeping you close as he snarled at his niece, "But I didn't. If memory serves right, I walked away!"

"You wanted me!" Rhaenyra raged. "You always were and always will be mine - regardless of the whores you bed in the meantime! And I want you, I am not yet married - "

"Yet I will not be who marries you, I am betrothed to another," Daemon reminded with a venomous tone. "There's nothing you offer that I want, Rhaenyra."

"I am not some inexperienced little girl anymore, I'm a woman grown, and I could do more for you than she ever could!"

"Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared.

Everyone knew she had gone too far and there was no coming back from any this. After a beat, Alicent stepped in as if questioning for the first time, "And yet, sister, you said the Princess was served Moon Tea? If Prince Daemon did not touch the Princess, does this mean she still," she scoffed as if the idea were absurd, "sullied her maidenhood? Before marriage?"

It should be noted that Ser Criston Cole was already gone from the hall at this time. In fact, he lingered just outside a side door, listening, in case his name came up. When Alicent spoke, he straightened up and started the slow trek to the Godswood.

"Ser Lyonel? Do I misunderstand?" Alicent pulled the Hand into the fray.

"Well, that's what that would sound like, Your Grace," he agreed begrudgingly. "Moon Tea is beneficial to prevent unwanted consequences outside of marriage."

"From what I understand, she was served by Grand Maester Mellos himself," you told Ali, minds strung together by a common thread. "The castle likes to gossip, you can learn a lot if you just listen."

"This is..." Viserys seethed, "Unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," you instantly apologized.

"No, no," he deflected, hand held up, "you have a duty to the Realm to flesh out any deception. And this," he directed his glare at his daughter, "is a grand deception that cannot be undone, unknown, covered-up, anymore, Rhaenyra!"

There was a meltdown. Everyone began yelling.

Viserys was enraged. Rhaenyra was desperately trying to plead with her father. Lord Corlys was demanding to know what the hell was about to happen with the impending marriage to "the future Queen". Ser Strong was trying to keep the people from each other's throats.

His sons stood to the side and just let them all fight.

Daemon kept you out of the line of fire, away from the action; sighing as you deflated into his chest. Over it all, Viserys' voice was angriest, and you heard, "You are no daughter of mine! The position you have put me in tonight - I cannot undo this, Rhaenyra! I should have never disinherited Daemon for you, breaking centuries of tradition because I wanted to see your mother in you! You have spat in my face around every bend, but this? This is unforgivable, we will not recover from this and I will no longer endure your insolence!"

"Father, please, let me - "

"No," he snarled, "I have had it with your disresepct the past several years, this is beyond any scale." You blinked up at Daemon, his lips curving down as his hands tightened around your form. And then, Viserys said the words, "I made a mistake naming you my heir. You may marry Ser Laenor, if you so choose to, but after that, you will reside on Driftmark with your husband - you will no longer inherit the Iron Throne after me."

"Father!"

"No," he snapped, "you've exhausted my patience, Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared. "And while Daemon might be unpredictable, the woman he wants to marry is not - and from where I am standing, she will make a far better Queen than you!"

It was quiet as everyone forgot their own selfish woes as father disinherited daughter.

"Your Grace," your father tried to step in, "with respect, why not place your son, Aegon, in line after you?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods, Otto," Rhaenyra raged, rounding on your father, "give up this campaign, you get all you want and more! Your daughter is Queen now and your other daughter will be Queen after that, aren't you listening? Your grandchildren will still inherit the Throne!"

"That's it," Viserys breathed, needing to hold onto the banquet table for balance as all eyes turned to him again. "It's time to do what I should've done all along. Rhaenyra," he shook his head, "I can no longer have you as my heir, this type of behavior cannot stand. I will give you permission to marry Ser Laenor, and if he chooses not to, I will allow you to reside on Dragonstone until a match is made. Until then," his eyes shifted to where you and Daemon stood, "I name my brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen, as my Heir to the Iron Throne."

"You would not name your son?" Alicent asked in mild disbelief.

"No," Viserys told her, "no, I would see my brother as my heir. Should Aegon prove to live up to his namesake, we can talk about succession again, but I know my brother is capable... And though he might be overly wanting, he will learn patience, because I know the love of a good woman can change a man for the better."

You smiled, feeling emotional for a moment, but Daemon asked for you both, "Brother, do you mean to give your blessing?"

"Of course," he nodded once, "why waste a good wedding tourney? We shall announce on the morrow our new intentions - to crown Daemon as heir and marry him to the Lady Hightower. This matter," he panted, glaring at everyone, "is resolved, I will not hear more. Make the preparations!"

It happened in slow motion. Rhaenyra's rage flared to a temperamental height previously unknown; lunging to seize her father's Valyrian Steel, prophesy-engraved dagger, turn, and charge straight for you as the remaining audience shouted in panic. You felt Daemon try to push you behind him, but instead, your own temper flared and you stepped up to meet Rhaenyra; catching both her arms to hold her at bay.

Daemon was at your flank if you needed him, otherwise, he kept the Kingsguard away from you two - knowing this needed to happen now. Or else something worse would happen later...

"For fuck's sake, Princess! What is this? Jealousy? Huh?" You asked through your tears, struggling to hold your old friend's weight away from you. "What is this jealousy, Nyrie, hmm?"

"Don't call me that," she grit. You just sighed, pushing her back a little but not enough to overpower her; the girl's anger making her stronger than you would've previously guessed. "You've gone too far," she seethed through tears.

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the Kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please! Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"You think you finally get my life, huh?" She snarled. "You won't ever be accepted - not as Queen - not as part of this family! You've wanted this all along! Haven't you!?" She struggled against you, hands sweating. "You've always wanted my life, that's why you stuck around! Your mother died - so you tried to take a place in my family, make them yours - and now, look! You're nearly there! Pouncing on my uncle the moment he's widowed!" She snarled, bearing her teeth.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are, Nyrie," you whispered with a broad smirk.

"You aren't fit to play this part! To have my life! You'll never be accepted as their Princess!"

"I wager I'll do a better job than you ever could," you hissed. "There's not much to live up to, you don't leave a lot of room to fill."

She screamed when Ser Harwin's arms seized around her waist, but the momentum of him pulling her back and Rhaenyra's thrashing cause the Valyrian Steel dagger to slice your forearm. You yelped and reared back amongst the startled gasps and panicked murmurs from the crowd, Daemon catching you. The dagger clattered to the floor as Harwin backed up several paces to keep the belligerent girl at bay. You whimpered quietly at the sting, a pool of blood forming to the side you held your arm at.

"Fuck's sake," Daemon growled, "lemme see, lemme see, my love, c'mere," he winced, looking around before using his own belt to yank free and tourniquet around your lower elbow. "You're bleeding a good bit," he whispered, "you'll need stitches, sweet one."

You pouted at him, wincing again in pain when he tightened the belt.

Around you, the Kingsguard was ordered to escort Rhaenyra to her chambers, and the moment she was marched out of sight, Daemon was warning his brother that she knew about her secret passage door and parts of the tunnels.

Go stand watch," a personal guard was ordered by the King. "Someone go - go find Ser Cole - I want him posted in the Princess' passage, he's trusted to us."

Alicent slunk off to do exactly that, and she'd tell you later that Cole was found only moments from taking his own life. He was overjoyed to hear the King had requested him personally to stand guard for such a sensitive situation.

In the meantime, Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, thought it best their son not marry Rhaenyra; now that she had been disowned, she was less appealing. Viserys was free to offer her again later if Laenor was not married in that time and if she showed true change, but after tonight, nobody thought that possible.

Daemon tried helping your wound, your father approaching as he laid a clean cloth over the cut. Your lover tisked, "It's deeper than I thought. We should get this looked at."

"A moment," Otto prevented.

"If it would please you, this is not an injury I'd like to wait to attend to," Daemon sighed, nodding at your bloodied forearm that he held.

"I only meant to say, you have my blessing to marry, my Prince," Otto nodded at him. "Seeing the kindness you show my daughter, I feel... Content knowing she will be loved and cared for."

"Thank you," Daemon nodded.

"Yes, thank you, Father, but we really must be going, this doesn't feel very nice," you rushed to explain, watching him nod and eye your injury with worry.

"This way," He even instructed, a few handmaids rushing forward to help herd you away.

"Doing all right, love?" Daemon muttered as you walked.

"Bit shocked," you admitted.

"I'd say," he mused.

"It burns," you pouted at him.

"We'll get everything tended to, you'll feel better soon," he soothed.

You peaked up at his worried brow, pouted lips, darting eyes; whispering, "You're heir, again, Daemon."

"So it would seem," he deadpanned. "Can we not talk about it now?" He requested quietly, "I only wish to see to this wound of yours."

You nodded, and once in Mellos' chamber, you were left alone with your father - since Daemon was not yet your husband. Otto was silent as your forearm was stitched carefully; the bleeding staunched, herbs stuffed in the wound to prevent pain and promote healing. As you let Mellos wrap you in gauze, you glanced at your father.

"So... Your blessing, is it?"

"He's different with you already," he nodded stiffly. "And after his nieces' display tonight, I can think of no better future Queen."

"I do not wish to talk about future station, Father, but instead, that... That Daemon makes me happy and I am relieved you have given us your blessing. It would've felt very wrong to marry without my father in attendance."

Otto wasn't affectionate in the least bit, but he showed his love by doing his best to understand situations before passing judgement. It created a sense of trust and security between father and daughter. So, he asked earnestly, "And you will overlook what he did with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"He told me of it all the morning after it happened, I've had time to think, and I've had time away from him. I know what I want, Father, and while Viserys has changed history - again - tonight by naming Daemon heir, I know he is the man I want for the rest of my life."

"I see," he nodded. "Then... By all means, I will see this union happen."

"Thank you," you whispered, the Maester tying the gauze. "Thank you, Grand Maester," you spoke calmly.

"Of course, uh, um, Princess."

"I don't think I'll get used to hearing that," you whined, standing off his table. "Will you talk to Daemon for me, Father? I think you need to clear the air... I will not say the King will instill you as Hand again, but if I am to marry the Prince, I will need there to be peace between our families."

He nodded, opening the door for you, "It will be arranged, my daughter..."

As Otto took his leave, Daemon, pacing the hall, approached you. He took hold of your waist, asking, "Are you all right?" You let him hold your injured wrist in a soft grip, viewing the wrappings.

"Yes, Your Grace," you teased, watching his pale face flush.

"Don't start with that."

"Mellos just called me Princess."

"You are," he grinned. "And we will be married in less than a week's time."

"I can hardly wait," you whispered, letting his lips find yours in a searing show of rare public affection.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon targaryen #prince daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x f!reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon hotd #hotd daemon #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon hbo #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon daemon targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd hbo #hbo hotd #daemon targaryen angst #hotd daemon targaryen

[dulcewrites]

Fool Me Once

Pairing: aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 2.4k)

Summary: Learning about Aemond’s indiscretions hurts more than you thought it would, and leads you to accepting help from an unlikely source.

Warnings: gaslighting and manipulation on Aemond’s part, reader being slightly naive :(

A/N: I love rewatching certain eps or scenes for inspo. I got inspo for this watching the iconic knife scene. Very interested lately in writing women that eventually (and rightfully) snap after being actively harmed by patriarchy/the men in their lives. Also alys and aemond meet after the dance starts but let’s pretend they meet right before viserys passes. This will have a slightly ambiguous ending… for funsies 🫶🏽

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Fmo Masterlist

You consider yourself a forbearing person. Your resigned nature was natural to you, but also the way you’ve been bred to be. Your mother especially preaching that good things come to those who not only wait but keep their heads while waiting. This idea only got compounded once your family arrived at court in King’s Landing. Now you had septas, on top of your mother, teaching you the ways of a ‘proper’ lady. Demure, well read and groomed, and obedient. You did was expected because what else could you do. Your parents were in your ear telling you do not waste the opportunity in front of you. An opportunity for a better life.

For a time, you thought your mother had a point. You did as you were told, and good things fell into place. Princess Helaena and you became fast friends through your lessons. Your interest in plants crossing over with her interest in insects and arachnids. Through your friendship with her, you caught the eye of Queen Alicent.

Despite your shy disposition, you managed to get in the good graces of the most powerful family in the Seven Kingdoms. You trusted the process.

But the cracks in the restrictive facade started once the discussion marriage entered the picture. You knew marrying for love was not something everyone was afforded, but you thought maybe you had a chance. There were tries for courtships here and there, but it was something you kept putting off. The clock was ticking, and no one let you forget it. Especially after your friends, including Helaena, started getting married and having families of their own.

You still remember the thrilled smile on your mother’s face when Queen Alicent not so subtly suggested a union between Prince Aemond and you.

The One-Eyed Prince. He had been nice enough towards you. But you were sure most of that was out of sheer obligation because his mother and sister liked you. Despite the love you have for Helaena and the respect you have for the queen, the idea of marrying into the family terrified you. You saw the burden and hurt each of them carried. Even with the possibility that Aemond wasn’t as bad as Prince Aegon or King Viserys, his brooding nature still made you nervous for what a marriage with him would mean.

“Your work has paid off my sweet girl”

It took a simple sentence from your mother to change your mind. The ever growing need to be validated spurred you into a decision you’d later question.

The courtship was quick and to the point, much like Aemond. He wasn’t thrilled with the decision. Then again, happiness was not an emotion you’d seen him exude very often. You did not know what it looked like.

Throughout the courting, wedding celebrations, wedding itself and after, you two had a mutual understanding or so you thought.

You saw the change in him. When you’re all but forced to spend your days with someone, you notice their behavior more. He’s lighter it seems. You don’t know how to explain it, but he moves different.

The only feeling you can compare it to is when you were pregnant with Daella, your daughter. For all his faults, you can acknowledge that Aemond is a good father. He was from the moment the maester told you two the news. He was attentive and uncharacteristically warm to you during your pregnancy. And then he acted as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders when she was born. Even now, he indulges her rambunctious antics and playful conduct in a way he wouldn’t for anyone else. His precious byka zaldrīzes

His devotion never wanes when it comes to her. It was a different story for you and him.

It was foolish, but so typical of you. You had done your duty so well that you’re now in the position of having genuine feelings for him. Wanting your husband shouldn’t be a problem. But craving the love and affection of an enigma like Aemond is not for the faint hearted.

“Is my brother with his whore tonight,” his words were cruel, but he genuinely seemed curious. Aegon and you always had a strange relationship. He wasn’t rude though certainly not kind. You remember overhearing the way he described you after you two first met: pretty but terribly dull. You didn’t know what hurt worse: him saying that or the lack of pushback from Aemond.

“Aegon!”

Alicent gives you a pained look before pulling Aegon to side during dinner. You can tell by her scowl and his now sheepish facial expression that she’s using some choice words.

You thank the seven that Daella was asleep after a long day of playing with her cousins and wasn’t at dinner. The empty spot next to you feels vast. This is the third dinner he has missed. It never occurred to you that Aemond would seek companionship elsewhere. Now that it’s on your mind, you can’t forget it.

His whore

Aemond and Aegon are not the same. You know Aemond is not the type for frivolous intimate moments with silk street brothel women. You also know the intimacy he seeks requires knowing someone. He requires way more stimulation. Whether that is a blessing or a curse… you don’t know.

Aegon’s comment had you on high alert. Paranoid even. When Aemond is away, you wonder what he’s doing and who with. It only gets worse the sicker King Viserys grows. It shows on everyone in the family. Queen Alicent gets more anxious for what’s to come, Aegon lashes out, Helaena becomes more cryptic and silent, you wonder how this will impact your already complex relationship with this family, but then there’s Aemond. He shrugs off any ill feelings towards the situation.

At first you wondered if it is because he’s the only one that’s made peace with that relationship never being mended. He didn’t seem to seek out the same approval or explanation for Viserys’ bad parenting that everyone else still craves. With the King dying, meant the chance of change dying as well. But really his mind is elsewhere.

You know you’ve reached a new low when you try to pry information from Ser Criston. If anyone knows where Aemond sneaks off to, you assume it would be Criston. But in the end, it was wrong to go to him. Criston is fiercely loyal to Alicent and in turn fiercely loyal to her children. Though he has treated you kindly, he would never give up more information than he had to.

The idea greatly backfires when then you find yourself the one being questioned.

“If you want to know where I go, you could simply ask,” Aemond’s tone is cool and composed. It makes you uneasy.

He leans leisurely against the wall. You freeze hearing that declaration. Criston must’ve told him about your worries. It feels a bit surreal now having the opportunity to confront him about your thoughts. The words run through your head but never seem to make it out of your mouth.

“You know I like going for long rides with Vhagar,” he starts walking towards you. “She’s older; she needs to stay sharp.”

You do know that. It’s something you found endearing about him, despite how you feel about dragons.

“I just feel like I haven’t seen you much,” you manage to get it out with a forced smile. “Like you’re always away.”

He tilts his head to the side in question. You feel like one of Helaena’s bugs. Inspected and poked.

“You don’t like being around Vhagar,” he points out. “I’d love to take you with me, but you don’t want that now do you.”

You look down at your hands. He doesn’t get it. He has the blood of the dragon flowing through him. For him, Vhagar is a symbol of pride and declaration of love for his ancestors and house. To you, she’s an unpredictable power that you still think humans should not mess with. It’s better to chalk it up to you fearing versus bringing up how you really feel about them. How you share the same skepticism many people across the Seven Kingdoms do. It scares you to think about Daella getting a dragon of her own. You see the awe in her eyes when she looks at her egg or when Aemond tells her stories of the past and present that include them.

Oh, the irony of you being weary of dragons while bounded to a man who rides the biggest of them all.

“No, I don’t,” you mumble. You finally work up the courage to bring up what you really want. “It’s just Aegon said something about you, and I guess it made me think about where you go so often.”

The words adultery or whore make your tongue feel heavy, and don’t come out He sighs once he reaches you, grabbing your face in his hands making you look at him.

“My wife do not let the thoughts of the small minded people cloud your judgment,” he leans his forehead down to yours. “You’re smarter than that.”

He’s not wrong, it is like Aegon stir things up. Aemond has a way of doing this. A way of making you feel silly with his self-assurance. He makes it easy to doubt your gut instincts. His affection has a similar debilitating quality. It’s why your head gets a bit fuzzy when he kisses you. A warm and gentle kiss that left you a bit weak in the knees. You sigh when his lips move to the sensitive spot under your ear.

“We should have another babe,” his whisper makes your eyes shoot open. “Give Daella a sibling.”

You pull away, eyes wide. As much as you loved how Aemond doted on you while you were with Daella, you also remember how difficult the experience was. How towards the end, you were basically confined to the castle as to not risk your health or the babe’s. Your every thought being on the life in your stomach.

“A little warrior would be nice, no?”

Aemond had told you he’s not picky about how many children you two have or even the sex of them. But you’re sure like any noble man, he wants his blood and name passed on as much as possible. Especially as a Targaryen. You’d be lying if you said the thought of a little boy didn’t make you happy. Your children hopefully having a strong bond.

You look at the seemingly earnest look in his eye. You nod with a nervous smile, and he kisses you again. That night being the first of many he tried to put an heir in you.

He wouldn’t want another child while his heart is not it… right?

You gingerly rub your stomach while leaning your head back against the seat. Ever grateful that you have Queen Alicent and Helaena to keep you company and help. Taking Daella off your hands during the day while you rest, your pregnancy making you more tired.

Before you can fall asleep, your lady in waiting peaks her head in the room.

“I’m sorry to disturb you princess, but Lord Strong has requested to see you.”

Your brows furrow. You have seen Larys Strong around, but outside of that he’s been a mystery to you. A figure looming in the background but never someone you interacted with regularly.

“Send him in.”

Lord Strong comes in, small smile on his face. You motion for him to sit in the chair next to you.

“Princess, you’re glowing,” he starts as he sits. “The halls are buzzing with excitement about a new babe.”

You raise a brow. Maybe you outwardly look better than you feel because you don’t feel positively glowing. Not in the slightest. You didn’t feel this exhausted till later when you had Daella.

“Thank you Lord Strong,” you try to keep a kind smile on your face. “What can I do for you today?”

“I just wanted to check in. Let you know that if you need anything, I am always of service.”

You nod slowly, confused about where this is all coming from. What service?

“I know how stressful being with child can be, especially when the father is… busy,” he continues, leaning back in the seat.

Your smile drops. For a time, you did think things were getting better. Aemond seemed excited when you two found out you were with child again. Things were good till they weren’t anymore. He’s not around again, and now you are going to bring another life into an unstable situation. The tone of Larys’ voice makes you uneasy. He smiles like he knows something you don’t.

“I appreciate the kindness, but I do not think your um services are needed.”

He nods at that before reaching into his pocket and handing you what you assume is a letter. He motions you to read it. You stare at the outside of letter. recognizing your husband’s handwriting.

My Alys

Your hands shake as you open the letter. Your vision gets blurred with tears as certain words and phrases stand out. Miss you, need to see you, miserable at King’s Landing, love you. Your squeeze your eyes shut when you see words mistake, baby, and your name in the same sentence.

“Those pesky ravens, sometimes they do the maddest things,” Larys whispers softly. “My princess, the woman the letter is for is an… old friend of mine. If you need me to keep an eye on this or even take care of anything, just let me know. I am always here.”

You look at him as he gets up to leave, lip trembling. Your eyes move stare at the fire in front of you. Fire, blood, and dragons have all consumed your life now.

Is this why you don’t under the understand the obsession with dragons. You hate the ludicrous insistence that you can control them. That if you give them enough love and patience that they will need you the way you need them. Good behavior has gotten you nothing. Doing right by the dragons in your life has gotten you nowhere. Aemond is not yours despite the vows you took, or sacrifices you’ve made for him. The same way your children will never be yours despite the pain you take to have them.

You’ve been burned by the very dragon that’s supposed to protect you.

“Lord Strong,” you blurt before he gets to the door. He turns to you expectedly. “There is something you can do for me actually.”

#aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #black!reader #my writing

[anastaaaaaaasia]

The First Queen

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader

Important notice: in this series reader has features of Ser Harwin, including Brown hair and tone of skin.

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First Chapter

Just like her mother, young Y/N was given the nickname, the Sunshine of the Castle. The girl was already 2 years old, by this time Princess Rhaenyra had another son, Luceris, Luke for his loved ones. The little prince also has dark curls, which are unusual for a Targaryen. Ser Laenor's three children do not look like him in appearance, it is too early to talk about the similarity of character, but despite all the gossip within the walls of the Red Castle, he spends all his time with all the children. Jayce teaches how to hold a sword and parry blows, walks with Y/N in the garden and helps catch butterflies, which are then carried to Helaena and the three of them look at them, and together with Luke watches the dragon egg, which is in the cradle.

Dragons. As one of the last houses to survive the Doom of Valyria, dragons became a family trait within House Targaryen, along with platinum hair and violet eyes. With the help of dragons, they captured Westeros, protected the dynasty, conquered new lands and connections, and conquered the skies. They say that the Targaryens are closer to gods than to people. But sometimes even the gods do terrible things, it all depends on the dragon riders.

Jace's egg has already hatched and a new resident, Vermax, has appeared in the Dragonpit. The dragon keepers say that even at his young age, Vermax avoids the cold in every possible way and tries to be close to other, older dragons. For example, Sunfyre.

The golden dragon belongs to Aegon and is similar in character to its rider. A nosy and nimble dragon cannot stay in one place for more than a day. The catacombs of the Dragon's Lair seem to be suffocating him, so his mood changes dramatically when the dragon is brought out to the prince. While the small dragon always approaches its owner with joy and excitement in its eyes. Dragon keepers would swear they've seen Aegon hugged his arms around a dragon's neck a couple of times.

  And his sister, young Helaena, during walks with her father in the dragon’s lair, shows a special interest in the Dreamfyre. The dragon also reacts calmly to her presence and even allowed herself to be touched.

The situation was different for peers, Aemond and Y/N. Their eggs did not hatch and the children were too young to understand what was happening. Some say that the year of their birth was cursed, others say that it is a punishment for the fact that the origin of Rhaenyra's children is called into question, but then what does Aemond have to do with it. The boy inherited all of his father's Valyrian features, Platinum hair and purple eyes.

Everyone thought. No, hoped that the eggs would hatch over time, but two years is already quite a long time. The firstborn of King Viserys 1 has already spoken to her father that if Syrax lays the clutch, then she is ready to give her daughter a new egg, she is even ready to give Aemond one, as a sign of goodwill for his mother.

Once old friends, now they meet only on certain occasions. The queen and princess, who once communicated warmly and cordially, now greet each other with cold glances and the proper courtesies that the royal court expects from them.

The relationship finally deteriorated when Lord Otto Hightower, the queen's father, was removed from his position as Hand. From that moment on, Alicent did not believe a single word of her former friend. There were a lot of lies, they flowed through the Red Castle like streams, flowing down the steps, parapets and entrevolts into the ears, penetrating into the common sense and hearts of all the inhabitants of the castle.

  Therefore, when the queen caustically noted that for some strange reason the Baratheon genes outplayed the strong genes of the Targaryens, Velaryons and even the Arryns three times, this only created another reason for new whispers in the dark corners of the castle.

Now the royal family will have to meet again and put on fake smiles for everyone around them. For the second time in a year, the king announced a royal hunt. Two moons ago they were dedicated to Prince Aemond, second son of King Viserys. The boy turned two years old and his curiosity about everything around him began to awaken. Especially to his father's model of ancient Valyria, he often walked around him, and Viserys sometimes helped him, lifting him into his arms and showing the figures closer. The prince especially liked miniatures of dragons, which he only had in toy format and could never emit real fire.

Today, the royal hunt was dedicated to the second anniversary of Princess Y/N, the king’s granddaughter from his beloved daughter. The girl was wearing a light blue dress. It reached to the ground, and there was a rectangular cutout under the neck to make the princess feel comfortable under the summer sun. The sleeves barely reached the elbows and their bottoms were framed by flowers made of silver fabric. The skirt of the dress was also inlaid with silver threads and small stones.

Despite the obvious colors of House Velaryon in the costume of the young heiress, the head was still adorned with now long brown hair, like the other offspring of Princess Rhaenyra. The hair shimmered brightly under the sun's rays and made it a warmer shade than it originally was.

In the clearing in the middle of the Royal Forest, tents were already erected, and the servants were urgently making final preparations. The united coat of arms of House Targaryen and Velaryon fluttered in the wind, and the standards fit tightly into the ground. The clearing gradually filled with guests, lords and ladies from different parts of Westeros. Any event in the royal family means the possibility of potential alliances, which is why many noble families were present today, despite other plans and assignments.

But all this did not worry the young Targaryen heirs. Three royal carriages were almost approaching the scene of the event. The first was the King and Queen's carriage. Alicent sat inside, heavily pregnant. The maesters said that in one moon the queen would give birth to another child for the king of the seven kingdoms.

On her lap sat the princess of Helaena. The girl played with her long platinum hair, some of which was braided. Her light green dress shone from the rays coming through the window.

Sitting on Viserys' lap was his second son, Aemond. The two-year-old prince was looking at pictures in a book about his ancestors, about Aegon and his two conquering sisters. He especially looked at the illustrations of dragons.

To their right sat Aegon, the prince was talking about something with his father, when the latter handed him a goblet of wine.

“Viserys,” Alicent shouted. "He is only six years old," the queen was unhappy with her son's affinity for wine.

“He is already six years old,” the king commented good-naturedly and with a smile. “Even more so, it’s diluted,” after these words, Viserys shook his head approvingly towards Aegon, mentally giving permission to try the drink. The prince took a sip and broke into a smile.

Suddenly the carriage hit a stone and the remaining wine from the goblet spilled onto Aemond’s book, covering Vhagar’s drawing with a dark red stain. Two-year-old Aemond was clearly unhappy with this and hit his brother with his small fist. The carriage suddenly filled with noise in an attempt to calm the dragon's offspring.

But this was not heard in the next cart. Princess Rhaenyra was stationed there with her husband Ser Laenor and two children, Jacaerys and Y/N. It was decided to leave the newborn Luke in the castle under the supervision of maesters and midwives. The little girl tried to fall asleep, burying herself in her father's side, while Jace, on the contrary, tried to start a conversation. For a three year old he was very active. And now he was trying to teach his sister to pronounce his full name.

“Come on, tell Jacaerys,” the prince had been trying for ten minutes.

“Jace,” the girl said and laughed, seeing her brother’s dejected face. Rhaenyra also grinned and turned to the first child, "Don't worry, she will say your full name someday, right now it's still hard for her, she's only two years old."

“I hope it will be easier with Luke,” Jace said and frowned. Y/N carefully approached him and carefully hugged her brother.

“Jace,” she said and smiled. Jacaerys was no longer dissatisfied and smiled, “Well, at least I’m her favorite relative.” Everyone grinned.

“Favourite relative,” Y/N said carefully and in syllables and hugged her brother tighter.

  The third carriage carried the rulers of Driftmark, Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen. They were discussing Laena, who had recently given birth. She gave birth to Damon's two daughters, Bail and Reyna. The babies were not even a year old. They now live in Pentos and due to the danger of travel for the girls, they were unable to come to King's Landing. Although before pregnancy, they visited Westeros and Leina became quite close friends with Rhaenyra. Eyewitnesses say that they often saw three dragons flying together. Caraxes, Vhagar and Syrax.

Now, when the clatter of the hooves of the royal horses can be heard from the clearing, the musicians line up holding the fanfare high. Golden chimneys shine and shimmer under the rays of the sun, and the coats of arms of the Targaryen and Velaryon houses hang proudly in a row. The sounds of music spread throughout all the tents, the invited guests head to the meeting place of the main persons of this holiday.

The carriages drove into the clearing and, to the deafening claps of the guests, the Royal Family went outside. The fanfare blew so loudly that six-year-old Aegon covered his ears in displeasure and there was some disgust on his face. But it soon disappeared, when he saw Rhaenyra’s only daughter, his niece.

It was unusual, but something attracted him to her. From the moment of her birth, Aegon made sure to spend time with her. He looked at her in the cradle and gave her small toys from his own collection. Hell, he even let her slobber all over him just to see her smile. And now, when the holiday was in full swing, he wanted to see her. But his mother distracted him.

The birthday girl of this celebration sat in her mother's arms as she spoke with the chief of the city guard, Harwin Strong.

“Princess, I also have a small gift for you,” Harwin said with a smile. He handed a small toy into the girl's hands. It was a white wooden horse whose mane was decorated with green, red and blue colors. Those colors that decorated the coat of arms of the House of Strong. The girl examined the gift and then poked it in Harwin’s chest, where that very coat of arms was and smiled.

“You have a bright child growing up, a rare combination of intelligence and beauty,” Harwin chuckled. Princess Rhaenyra also smiled and lightly patted the baby's head. Y/N and she really was smart, she often saw Ser Harwin and how he spoke to her mother. Therefore, the next phrase plunged the two adults into a slight stupor.

“Favorite relative,” Y/N squealed happily and stretched out her arms in an attempt to hug Harvin. Rhaenyra looked around sharply, trying to figure out if anyone had heard this phrase. Harvin was a little embarrassed, but in his heart he was pleased, although he understood that all this was wrong.

“No, Y/N, you can’t say that,” Rhaenyra said. The baby frowned and did not understand the reason. When she said this to Jace, her mother was pleased, but now she scolds her. Harwin asked her to cheer up the baby.

“How does the horse gallop?”

“Clunk clunk,” the girl imitated, picking up the toy, and then laughed with Harwin. After that, Rhaenyra smiled guiltily and went to the royal tent.

“I would like a niece like this,” said Laris, who suddenly appeared.

There was fun in the royal tent. Wine flowed in streams, and bards entertained the high-ranking guests. Y/N sat on the carpets next to other children and looked at the toy. The color red reminded her of her mother, grandfather and all the Targaryens. Blue was similar to the color of her father and relatives from Driftmark. And Green, who did green remind her of? His. Aegon.

The prince appeared in her field of vision and the girl smiled at him, stood up and hugged him. Aegon chuckled and sat down next to her.

“You,” Y/N exclaimed and first pointed to the green line on the horse, and then to his green tunic.

“Yes, Green,” said Aegon

“Gween,” Y/N repeated incorrectly.

“Gween,” the prince assured with a grin and thought for a couple of seconds. Suddenly an idea popped into his head and he tried to implement it. "Do you know my name?"

The girl thought and blinked her eyes a couple of times in confusion. Y/N frowned and shook her head in denial.

“I am Aegon. Can you repeat that? Ae-Gon,” the prince pronounced his name syllable by syllable and looked at her expectantly. After a couple of attempts the girl exclaimed

“Aegon,” Y/N started laughing and Aegon smiled from ear to ear. Jace, who was sitting next to him at the time, frowned and became indignant.

“Why can you say his name, but not mine,” the prince exclaimed displeasedly.

“It’s obvious, nephew, I’m her favorite relative,” Aegon said and Y/N smiled

“Aegon, Beloved Relative,” said the princess and buried herself in Aegon’s chest, hugging him with her small arms. The prince blushed.

“At least I still have Luke,” Jace muttered dissatisfied and continued to play.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen imagine

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“You belong to me and me only.” // Aemond Targaryen x Aunt!Hightower!Reader

MDNI

WARNINGS: dubcon, p in v sex, canon typical incest, breeding kink, noncon voyeurism, jealous!aemond, kinda toxic, tiddy sucking, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia(?), rough sex, choking, reader's age is left up to interpretation. + not proofread // based on this request.

WC: 2k

You were reading a book in allotted chambers when you felt the noise of a stone slide, you sighed already knowing who it was before you got up and turned to face the intruder, arms crossed. Aemond was in your room before he came close to you and embraced you, “Aunt.” he whispers, nose buried at the top of your head before he takes in the scent of you, hair smelling like roses.

You push him away and put your book down on the table before putting some distance between you and Aemond, “You should leave.” you say and he furrowed his eyebrows, “What the fuck do you mean by that?” he grits his teeth and you sigh. “Aemond, I am to be married soon, I cannot continue this….whatever this is, with you.” you speak, “But I love you.” he replies.

“I know, and I love you too, but my sister has declined our betrothal.” you try to speak some sense into him.

“I do not give a shit about my mother's opinion on this matter, I want you. I want to have you, your body and soul.” Aemond says and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at that but you quickly push them away before you shake your head.

“It is useless.” you reply.

“I would rather burn this keep to the ground with vhagar than watch you marry someone that isn't me, aunt.” he grits his teeth as he proclaims angrily.

“My dear, I know it is upsetting, but we cannot do anything about this-” you try convincing him but he lets out a sound similar to a growl before storming off.

Just then a guard informs you of the dinner you were supposed to have with all of the family, yes that included Rhaenyra and her family.

Your maids quickly get you ready for the dinner, donning you in a beautiful green down, with a squared neck cut and slightly puffed sleeves, gold lacing incriminated into the cloth, not extravagant, simple enough dress which was suitable for dinner.

You wore your hair loose, except the two strands that were braided and put together at the back of your head, and then you wore your most valuable gift of all, a valyrian steel necklace, thin braided, with a sapphire drooping down the middle, small and heart shaped.

It was a gift from Aemond, it's not he hadn't gifted you other things, it's just that this necklace was something that you liked the most and the one which held meaning to you, after all it was the necklace you had received after Aemond had confessed his feelings for you.

And just like that, you were ready for dinner.

You sat down on your chair and watched as Aemond talked to Aegon, Aemond had switched places and sat right next to you, which earned a look from Alicent who Aemond paid no mind to.

Dinner was going well, everyone seemed to be getting along, Luke and Jace were on their best behaviour today, it seems their mother had finally reprimanded them.

That was what you thought until you caught Daemon Targaryen staring at you, at first you thought it was a mistake, but he for sure was staring at you, or rather at your cleavage.

You watched as he took a sip of his wine, eyes flickering down to your breasts before up to your face, he gave you a small smirk before drinking.

You noticed how visibly uncomfortable Rhaenyra was and you felt so bad for her, you shrugged off and pretended nothing ever happened, until you heard your sister bring up the topic of Aemond's betrothal.

What shocked you most was that she had said that Aemond was the one who proposed it.

A marriage alliance to the Baratheon House.

Floris Baratheon.

You clenched your jaw in jealousy and anger, you knew you were both meant to part ways, in fact you were the one who bought it up in the first place anyways but that didn't matter, you were angry, at both him and yourself for feeling like this.

You simply gave him a glare from your side, before turning your attention to the man who was sitting across, he still shamelessly checked you out. And then you got an idea.

You leaned in front of the table, pretending as though you were fetching something, causing the flesh of your breasts to almost spill out, giving Daemon the time of the day, his face flickered over to your face and you gave him an innocent smile before sitting back, nobody seemed to have noticed except for Aemond at what you had done.

Then you felt something trail up the front of your leg and you looked at Daemon who now had a relaxed expression as his boot made its way upwards your skirts, trailing a path, and you pulled your legs back, and shot him a smirk, basically inviting him in.

Aemond had begun to notice all this, the way when your hands would linger longer whenever you would pass something to his uncle, the way he stared at your chest, it made him mad.

He proposed this marriage so that you would break and create a scene and get you and him married. But this isn't what he had expected.

He finally snapped when he heard your sweet laugh, which was drawn by daemon's joke, he slammed his fists on the table and before anyone can process it he's pushing the food off and slams you by your head on the table kicking your chair off forcing your legs straight. You were extremely taken aback by this.

“Since you want to parade yourself like a whore, I will treat you like one.” he growls before he hikes your skirts up and you panic, struggling and Alicent looks at this in horror, everyone looks as if they're scared.

“Aemond! Stop this right now!” Alicent tries to come over to help you but he shoots her a look and she backs down, scared that her son might hurt her as well.

He quickly undoes his breeches, he didn't care if everyone was watching him, that's exactly what he wanted, he slipped into your folds with such brutality that made you moan loudly and claw at the table, you tried fighting him off but he held your hands together at your back and let go of your neck, spanking your ass.

“Look at this, already so fucking wet.” he collects the wetness yout produced and smears it across your skin, and just then you were able to feel how wet you were.

“Fucking whore.” he says as he starts snapping his hips at a brutal pace causing you to moan, it was so humiliating, to have everyone watch you while he fucks you, they're too scared to interefere, Alicent closes her eyes at this act of depravity being displayed, and everyone seems to be looking anywhere but whatever was being displayed, and Aemond was visibly annoyed, he wanted everyone to look, to see how much of a whore you were, he wanted to humiliate you.

“Look at this uncle, wasn't this bitch just flirting with you moments ago? Watch how she is moaning underneath me now.” he grunts, thrusting, making your body jolt up the table, and Daemon stares at you, unashamed.

You burst into tears, feeling insulted and humiliated, “Dear aunt, are you crying right now? Don't, you were the one who wanted to act like a whore from the silk streets.” he coos mockingly and you sniff, his thrusts become sloppy before he pushes him to the hilt and finishes inside you, before pulling out and wearing his breeches, before smoothly walking his way out, leaving you unsatisfied and on the table, a mess.

Alicent comes towards you and pulls your skirts down, she seems to be at the verge of crying as well, fixing you up and giving you a hug and you just looked at everything in a daze, mad and humiliated.

But most of all unsatisfied.

Aemond didn't let you finish, but sought out his own pleasure like a cunt.

That's what made you mad.

“Let's pretend nothing happened here, and Aemond.. That mangrown… ” Alicent sighs and everyone nods, looking at you in pity and you just feel tears streaming down your face, and your sister wipes them away.

You left the scene, going back to your chambers, and the sight in front of you made you mad.

Aemond was in your chambers.

“What the fuck are you doing here, get out.” You say sternly and he turns to look at you, you close the door behind you before lunging at him, and he seems taken aback by this but he dodges, and grabs you by your neck before applying pressure, causing you to see stars as the oxygen was so slowly deprived from you.

He pushes you onto the bed, hand leaving your neck as he rips your gown apart, the material tearing, causing your breasts to spill out, he grips them tightly, nails biting into your skin causing sparks of pain, you gripped his hands trying to pull them off but he only held on tighter, “He was staring at these,” he growls, “But he doesn't know that they belong to me.” he takes your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple, causing you whine before he bites down harshly, making you arch your back and grip his hair.

He pulls away and trails kisses down your body, stopping at your cunt, he pulls your legs apart, revealing your folds to him, he moans at the sight, his previously stuff spend leaking outside, and coating your thighs, he licks at of it up before his lips descend onto your pearl, he sucks on it, tongue flicking up and down your bud, you throw your hand back and moan, hands coming up to grip his hair as you rut against his face, he moans into your cunt, relishing in the combined taste of you and him, he pushes his finger inside your hole as he kisses your bud, thrusting in and out, fingers curling upwards to hit your spot.

And soon, you come all over his hands and he moans at the way your cunt clenches around his digits, “Fuck- need to be inside you once again.” he pulls his fingers out and replaces it with his cock, pushing past your folds and sitting all snuggly inside.

He leans down to kiss your neck, biting at it to leave marks, he fucks you at a brutal pace, making your body jolt, and the bed creak against the floor.

He pulls away from your neck to watch your fucked out expression, drool dripping from the side of your mouth, which he leans in and licks it up before kissing you, your moans are muffled by it.

He felt himself near once again, “I can't wait to fill you up, maybe at the earlier display, and my son growing in your womb, she might wed us.” he tells you his plan easily and you nod.

“You'd be so pretty, all full and round of my child, trying to waddle around, trying to keep up with my pace— ah! fuck!” he moans as he spills himself inside you, all the thoughts only spurring him on further.

And you feel your band snap at the same time, cumming along with him, moaning extremely loudly, chanting his name like a prayer.

He pulls out and watches his cum drip out of you, he scoops it up and shoves it back inside, and you wince from the overstimulation.

“You belong to me, and me only, do you understand?” he growls and you nod.

“I want to hear it.”

“Yes, Aemond, I understand.” you say.

And soon, Alicent weds you both, the entire family was quiet during the celebration, knowing the reason why, yet they all congratulated you.

Aemond finally got what he wanted at the end.

———

GENERAL TAGLIST ;

@watercolorskyy @cl-0-vr @chompchompluke @namelesslosers @snowystark @spookyaemond @sweethoneyblossom1 @this-isnt-madness @persephonerinyes @eltherevir @sidni3003 @aleidag1rly @cryingforlife @fan-goddess @hannaeditzs @grungegrrrl @thekinslayersswordhand @aemondsbabygirl

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond x reader #aemond x reader smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #x reader #x reader smut #reader insert

[daenerysies]

rhaenyra is as much of a girl’s girl as the society she lives in allows her to be.

book wise she has multiple ladies in waiting (not just alicent, which is a grave oversight in the show), one of which is said to have gouged out her own eyes at the sight of rhaenyra’s murder. that doesn’t sound like someone who isn’t capable of inspiring loyalty from the women around them. rhaenys fully and wholeheartedly supported rhaenyra and her cause, even dying in her attempts to make her the first queen regnant of the seven kingdoms. laena betrothed her daughters to rhaenyra’s sons, ensuring that her blood sat both the iron throne and the driftwood throne, all while being a pretty difficult backing to break due to the wealth and naval power of the velaryons (all of this in spite of the bastardy rumors surrounding jace and luke). the agreement also puts forward how politically astute rhaenyra is, and how she didn’t just rely on her father’s word to put her on the throne. she made alliances using her sons hand in marriage; borros baratheon might not have declared for aegon had a proposal taken place the night luke brought rhaenyra’s terms. baela was only held back from partaking in the many battles because of her dragon’s size, otherwise she would have been right beside her betrothed fighting for rhaenyra. there’s even a chance that rhaena would have joined had she had a rideable dragon of her own. she had mysaria, a former sex worker, as her mistress of whisperers, a very esteemed position on her small council. the cases of rosby and stokeworth have no bearing on this, because they were never named as heirs (along with being literal children during a war time) which is what rhaenyra was using as the basis for her rulership. jeyne arryn knew her own position as lady of the eyrie would be challenged (again) if aegon stepped over rhaenyra and subsequently supported her cause. important women like alysanne blackwood and sabitha frey were key players in cregan’s army.

show wise she is shown in the season two trailer to be taking advice from rhaenys and allowing her to be a part of the war efforts. baela and rhaena are explicitly included on her war council, with rhaena as her cupbearer. moondancer is no longer a hardly rideable dragon and baela seems to be taking direct part in the war. rhaenyra is already shown in a set picture to be communicating with mysaria (whether that’s discussing blood and cheese, the aftermath of it, or something entirely different remains to be seen). these are not the acts of someone who hated other women, and using her falling out with alicent and the resulting enmity between them (that is almost completely one-sided due to the difference in power dynamics) as an excuse to otherwise is worse than strange, considering alicent’s canonical goal was to seat her son, a known violent misogynist, on the throne over a woman who was the named heir to the king.

the green’s entire ideological standpoint is that women cannot rule, ever, for it would make the main members of the green’s powerless, and any other lord or heir’s claim would be up for debate if they have an elder sister. if the iron throne had truly been aegon’s by right alicent, otto, and criston would not have left viserys’ body to rot for days AND they would have had the backing of most of the houses. if alicent had cared more for her children’s wellbeing she would have convened a great council before the war began or considered any other effort that would not lead to her children fighting on dragonback. rhaenyra’s (peaceful) ascension would have at least started the necessary changes needed to grant women more authority and (!) autonomy in the seven kingdoms. queen consorts had significantly less influence after her murder, along with the targaryen’s losing their ability to hatch dragons. rhaenyra does not need to be a feminist for her cause to be inherently feminist by proxy.

rhaenyra was not a feminist, but she did have great love for other women. it’s disingenuous at best and downright insulting at worst to try to paint her as anything else. she inspired loyalty even after her murder. if the black’s cause had truly relied on putting rhaenyra on the throne, her armies would have disbanded once she was dead. instead corlys and larys poisoned aegon, with rhaenyra’s son being placed on the throne afterwards. it was ultimately about bloodlines in the end. jaehaera suffered the unfortunate consequences of an ambitious hand because of her status as aegon’s daughter. it plays directly into how alicent outlived her entire family, besides jaehaera, and went mad with grief, learning to hate the color green. how greed and the allure of power can and will corrupt those who choose to make that a priority in their lives, and how the innocent will usually pay the price for those sins.

#house of the dragon #fire and blood #rhaenyra targaryen #pro rhaenyra targaryen #team black #anti team green #anti team green stans #anti alicent hightower #anti aegon ii targaryen #hate rhaenyra all you want #but stop conflating your hatred of her with factually incorrect takes #the only team constantly harping about feminism #is the team who’s been babied by a show that wants to change the core meaning behind #the dance of the dragons #aegon only having a daughter by the end of it all #and NOT naming her heir #is the most telling result that the war happened #because of rhaenyra’s womanhood #btw i don’t care how ‘interesting’ and ‘full of nuance’ your fav characters are so keep it to yourself :)

[2rats1gogh]

Same anon here with more- people need to stop conflating Aegon with Joffrey Baratheon.

Aegon has done some despicable things that I won’t make excuses for but he’s not the rabid dog that Joffrey was. Cersei, Tyrion and Tywin struggled to rein him in at 13 years old and once that crown was on his head a monster was let loose. Alicent can actually reason and get through to Aegon at pivotal times. Cersei could not do that with Joffrey.

Aegon above all craves Alicent’s approval and affection, he turns into a sniveling mess at Alicent’s scolding at his big age. Alicent is not afraid to tell Aegon exactly what she’s thinking. She doesn’t placate, pacify or coddle like everyone had to do with Joffrey because he was out of control, cruel AND stupid at the same time. Helaena is the most important person in the world to Alicent and Aegon is not going to harm the most precious thing in the world to Alicent. Helaena doesn’t have to fear Aegon bashing her head in with a rock or choking her after she has just had a stillbirth….

He called her an idiot at 14, yes it wasn’t nice but it was completely normal. At 14 I called my sister a cunt right across the dinner table, but I've also fought for that same sister. They are siblings and that interaction that made them seem more human as opposed to their 2 dimensional team black counterparts who always just smile and have kind words for each other- except when Jacaerys was beating the shit out of Luke on the beach, but no one is saying how miserable Luke was despite Luke actually seeming unhappy with parts of his life. He was even vocal about these things. Whereas Heleana who is a blunt speaker, has not said anything like that.

Helaena doesn’t look afraid of Aegon, she doesn’t look afraid of anyone in her immediate family (including Criston) as much as team black would like her to be. At the most Aegon ignores her, like she said. Honestly ignoring her is preferable to what Viserys was doing to Alicent. She had 3 children before she even reached 20. Aemond and Helaena are almost Irish twins. In the show Helaena and Aegon just have the twins who are maybe 4-5 years old, so Aegon is not forcing himself on Helaena.

We don’t know much about Helaena in the show because they decide to delete certain scenes and include other stupid filler scenes when they contain fan favorites…but Helaena in the book was happy. Her input towards the war was valued. She loved her children and everyone could agree she was a wonderful mother.

Her life isn’t perfect, there is no woman in that time period whose life is. Her husband is so far from perfect but that doesn’t mean Helaena lived a life of misery.

The book even says basically that Helaena died with Jaehaerys that night and Alicent didn’t kill Jaehaerys. That was Daemon Targaryen.

And when pointing the finger at Alicent, remember that she didn’t make Helaena on her own. She had a useless father who ignored her and her siblings her entire life. Viserys withheld his love from them out of some twisted loyalty to his first wife that he killed and his oldest child by this wife. These things would have a deep emotional impact on a person, it certainly has on her brothers. Stop letting Viserys off the hook.

(the way you called Joffrey a rabid dog omg I’m cryingggg😭😭😭😭 shxjskkzkvzlclwgzjpf)

but yeah, you are so so so right.

I hate it when people, mostly TB, compare Aegon to Joffrey. Like the ONLY two things they have in common is an ambitious (?) widow mother queen and also the fact that both aren’t very nice people. But that’s about it. Aegon at his worst doesn’t even come close to how horrendous Joffrey was on a regular day. Aegon never killed people for fun, he didn’t publicly humiliate Helaena like Joffey did with Sansa. And as I say, I am ignoring the fact that he’s a rapist because it was literally added out of nowhere, makes no sense, and has no relevance to the plot whatsoever. It was added purely to make Aegon and TG look bad. Canonically he is literally just a lazy alcoholic.

And I absolutely agree with what you said about Helaena. TB often say that “aLiCeNt MaDe HeR LiFe HeLl” but she literally didn’t? She would NEVER have her marry Aegon if Aegon was like Joffrey Baratheon. You can call Aegon every insult in the book, he was neglectful, he ignored her, he wasn’t really present in the lives of their kids, but he was NOT an abusive husband or father. And as you said, unlike Viserys, he never forced himself on Helaena. He wasn’t obsessed with the idea of having as many children as possible with her. Literally not at any point his nonexistent “abusive” behavior is shown, not even in the show. During the dinner scene Helaena literally jokes about her relationship with him, she seems comfortable and chill.

Sure, as you said, her life was far from perfect. In the books she does give birth at 14, in the show, since everyone is slightly older, she most likely was 16? Not that uncommon actually. She still had her mother, and her brothers, she has sir Criston. Aegon’s behavior was controlled by Alicent, so he would NEVER hurt her. If you remember how Alicent reacted to Aegon forcing himself upon Dyana (dumb scene overall but still) you can only imagine how she would react if he treated Helaena the same way.

#house of the dragon #hotd #pro team green #anti team black #anti team black stans #team green #asoiaf #pro aegon ii targaryen #aegon x helaena #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #pro alicent hightower #alicent hightower

[helaelaemond]

Before The Storm - Aemond x sister!reader

Pairing: Aemond x sister!reader

Word count: 3.6k

this was the second winner in this poll / osferth fic that also won the poll

Summary: Alicent and Otto have decided that Aemond will be used to broker an alliance with House Baratheon. As the only unwed adult child of Viserys, First of His Name, a betrothal with Aemond One-Eye is a commodity bound to secure alliances for the wars to come. Fuck the wars to come, though.

Aegon might be your husband and king, but it is Aemond that belongs to you.

Oral sex (male receiving, female receiving), penetrative sex, elements of possessiveness, jealousy, canon-typical incest, slightly nasty sex, little brother isn't so little anymore

Content warning(s): mentions of child marriage/rape (very brief), brief mentions of Lucerys' death

Rating: E

Tag list: @sylasthegrim / @arcielee / @myfandomprompts / sorry I forget who might want to be included

You keep your head down as the Small Council leaves the meeting chamber. Past you walks Lannister and Wylde and Orwyle. Beesbury is dead. Cole killed him, everyone knows it, but Mother protects him. And he protects you, you know. When Meleys had erupted from the depths of the dragonpit, he had shielded you with his body and had been ready to sacrifice his life for yours. He can be a cruel man, but he loves you. Just like Grandfather.

Just like Aemond.

The men in your life are not good. But they love you. Selfish though it is, that's enough for now.

You enter the chamber and find your brothers there, your mother and grandfather, too. Ser Criston keeps his place behind the queen. The dowager queen, that is.

"My dear, sit down," Grandfather says quietly. You take Orwyle's seat opposite Mother. It's strange to see Aegon at the head of the table now. At least he doesn't wear the crown now - it had looked so strange on him.

Aegon and Mother are talking. "... matter which, so long as it's one of them. Let him choose."

Alicent frowns. "It should be the eldest, as is tradition."

Aegon smirks. "And what if the youngest is prettiest?"

"The youngest is but thirteen-"

"Plenty of girls are ready for marriage at thirteen."

"Don't be obscene."

Aegon laughs, and shrugs. "My own wife was not much older."

Aemond taps his finger slowly on the wood of the table. You look at his long hand, his elegant digits, and it gives you butterflies. He hasn't touched you since the coronation, but he's looked. Gods, he's looked.

You slip into the seat next to Grandfather as he watches them talk. Opposite you, Aemond avoids your gaze.

"It should be the eldest," Grandfather agrees. You don't look at anyone but your younger brother, but you listen closely.

"But what if he doesn't like her face?"

"Her face is of no consequence; it's her father's forces we want, as you well know, Your Grace." The sarcasm with which Otto spoke the last phrase is lost on no one at the table. Aegon's expression sours.

"I suppose he can always fuck her from behind if she's ugly," he says spitefully.

Alicent looks down at her lap in despair. "Gods, Aegon."

You stare at Aemond. Understanding what they're talking about makes you want to shrink into nothing, to disappear between the cracks in the floor. Aemond is to have a wife. A wife.

"When do you wish for me to go?" Aemond speaks at last. He looks at Aegon with his own good eye, his expression blank.

"Tomorrow will do." Some of the bravado leaves the king when he shares a gaze with his little brother. "Take Vhagar, not a ship. She speaks louder than any of us."

Aemond nods stiffly. He looks between Grandfather and Mother. "Aegon will have Storm's End, and I will have this girl."

The smile that your brother gives Aemond is more genuine now. When he is truly happy, Aegon is quite pretty. It's a shame he refuses to find happiness, then, for the most part. Perhaps his Flea Bottom girls get to see that smile more than you. "Thank you, Aemond. Truly."

He's punishing you, you think. Your spiteful, inattentive husband is punishing you for finding your own happiness.

No one in the chamber has paid you any mind yet, but when you stand up and the chair loudly scrapes against the stone, all gazes are on you. The pressure of it makes your cheeks flush. Say something. Anything.

"Congratulations, brother," you say stiffly. Not that. "I wish you luck in the wars to come."

You sweep out of the council chamber as quickly as you arrived. Only Grandfather calls your name, but you ignore him. Panic swells in your chest. Only when you arrive back in your chambers od you allow yourself to cry.

"Sister?"

There is a secret passage that connects your rooms to the maze of corridors hidden in Maegor's Holdfast, and over the years, you and Aemond have learned it well. Through a concealed door behind a bookcase, he peeks now.

You sit cross-legged in your windowseat as you look across the city beyond the castle walls. A hundred thousand lights flicker under the night sky, orange against the ink of night. Atop the Hill of Rhaenys, the dragonpit looms mighty and foreboding. Your dragon is in there with Aegon's. Vhagar makes her lair on the coast, or in the Kingswood. She comes and goes as she pleases without restraint.

Aemond walks closer to you.

You wonder where Vhagar is tonight.

"You cannot ignore me forever."

"Why not?" you ask quietly. Don't look at him. Don't cave. "You're to have a wife soon. She will give you all I cannot."

Aemond's long strides bring him to your side in an instant, and he kneels before you. Taking the patch off his eye, sapphire and purple bear into you, you can feel it. It makes your skin prickle. "You give me everything."

"Not everything. I do not give you my hand. I do not give you children."

"We don't know that," he murmurs. "The babe in the cradle may be mine, we do not know."

You sigh. "That's the first time you've admitted that in so many words."

"Perhaps tonight is a time for firsts."

You snort. "Like proposals?"

"I begged Mother, the day she betrothed you to Aegon, to let it be me." He squeezes your hand. "I begged her, and Father, to let us wait until I was older so that I could marry you. You know this."

"You didn't try hard enough."

He kisses the back of your hand, your fingers. "I know. I know. Forgive me, sister. Please, please."

You pull your hand out of his and stand up, flitting over to another window and out of his grasp. He rises to his feet and watches you. He licks his lips and glances down in shame.

"Everything will change, Aemond."

"No. No, it won't."

You hug your arms around yourself. "It will. You'll have a wife." Anger suddenly boils in you. "A fucking wife! And what will I be then? You'll set me aside for some Westerosi bride who will give you trueborn heirs and her father's army and-"

Long strides bring him back to you and he takes your face into his hands. He forces you to look at him. The sapphire glints in the light of the fire. Shadows make his scar even deeper, rawer. "Look at me, sister."

All air has gone from you. You're powerless under him. Your eyes meet his.

"I'm yours, and you're mine. I will never love another as I love you."

"You don't know that, Aemond."

"Only a Targaryen can love a Targaryen." His voice is rich and warm, heat simmering beneath the surface. "That I know."

"For now."

He wraps his arms around you possessively and pins your body to his. He is tall and lean and strong against the softness of your curves. He has his place against you. "Forever.'

"You will swear yourself to a stranger and you will bed her, too. I will have to share you."

"As I share you now," he practically growls.

"That's not fair," you protest. But then his hand is in your hair and pulling it to turn your head to the side. His lips press against the slope of your neck and you bite back a sigh.

"No, it's not fair. Our brother gets to bed you and hold you and kiss you without worry."

"And I hate him for it."

Aemond gently bites over your pulse. "As do I."

"Perhaps when you bring your bride here, you can give her to him as a distraction while you have me."

He moves his lips to your ear and darts his tongue inside to make your knees weak. "You want that? Your husband to give my wife his bastards while I give you mine?"

Your fingers dig into his shoulders. He won't have you that easily. "Is that all I am to you? Some mare in heat for you to breed?"

When Aemond pushes you against the stone wall, you grip his sharp jaw and press until his lips open. When you spit into his mouth, he swallows gratefully. "You're everything to me," he groans. "Do that again."

"Aemond."

"Yes, sweet sister?"

"When you marry her, and when you fuck her, think of me."

His jaw is slack when your hand moves to his throat. "No."

You tighten your fingers slightly. "No?"

"I won't debase you like that."

A small noise comes from your nose that is close to a moan. You fumble with the buckles on his leather jerkin while he pushes your heavy dressing gown off. Underneath, you wear only a linen shift, thin enough for him to see your nipples peak. Since your children have come, your body has been much softer, wider and suppler, than before. You wondered, once, if he would desire you less now there is more of you. But it was nothing to worry about; as the years have gone by, Aemond's need for you has grown more and more desperate.

An addiction.

Before you can even push the leather off him, his hands are clutching you. He runs them up and down your back as he kisses you. His lips and tongue are wet and needy, coating yours with his taste. The pressure of his tongue against yours always makes you dizzy, and when it fills your mouth, you cling onto his waist.

"No one compares to you," Aemond whispers against your mouth. You swallow his moans gratefully.

"I want you to fuck me even when you're married."

The words are mumbled against his kisses, but he hears enough to understand. Letting you go only for a moment, he turns you to press your front to the stone wall, and he traps you against it with his body. Strong hands find yours, and he covers them as he pins them either side of your head. Trapped, all you can do is drop your head back against his shoulder.

"I'll never stop," he promises against your ear. Sharp teeth bite it, and familiar lips press below it. "I can't."

"Good."

"Keep your hands there," he tells you.

You're tempted to disobey him, but you don't want him to stop. His touches are firm down your sides, and when you lean back against him, he presses his hands between your chest and the wall. Aemond grasps your breasts and squeezes them, rolling them in his hands. Between his fingers, your nipples are caught, and the stimulation sends bolts of pleasure between your thighs.

"This is mine," he whispers. His long nose runs up the side of your neck and into your hair. It's so like his, almost silver. The blood of the dragon runs thick. It's in you, and it's in him.

Baratheon blood will not come between you.

"And what is mine?" you ask breathlessly.

Aemond groans softly. He slips so easily into High Valyrian, and the words roll off his tongue naturally. "Mirre yno, mandia. Qogralbar, mirre yno." All of me, sister. Fucking all of me.

"Pār ivestragī nyke emagon jemome, lēkia." Then let me have all of you, brother.

Hearing you speak the tongue of your ancestors always makes him hard. When you were younger and in the same lessons, it had made him blush, and sometimes he had to excuse himself when you practised - especially when you got fluent. How few things change. Except this time, he doesn't leave. This time, he moans out loud.

You turn around and force him against the wall this time. His jacket hangs open, and you fumble with the laces of his breeches. Inside, you find his familiar warmth. "Issi ao qopsa syt nyke?" Are you hard for me?

Aemond drops his chin, pleasure washing over his face. "You don't have to do that."

"Let me," you plead. "You never let me."

"You're worth more than this."

"Jaelan naejot sylutegon ao, ñuha jorrāelagon. Kostilus?" I want to taste you, my love. Please?

"Qrugh." Shit.

And then Aemond's hand is in your hair, and he's guiding your head closer, and you sink to your knees worshipfully. His cock is so pretty, you think. Pink and flushed, a thick vein running up the underside. You trace it with your tongue, a feather-light touch that has him tilting his head to the side. He doesn't let you suck his cock often. Sometimes, you practice on the wooden cock he gave you on your nineteenth nameday. It has a sapphire buried in the hilt.

"Ah, mandia." Ah, sister.

You wrap your hand around the base of him to hold him steady, and your lips seal around the tip. You swirl your tongue around his head; it's impossible to hold back the moan at the back of your throat when you taste the salt of his skin, smell the musk of his body. Tomorrow, a stranger will have claim to this part of Aemond. But for tonight, he's all yours. You suckle on the head and it earns you praise from your little brother.

Not so little anymore.

The taste of him fills your mouth. Your hand strokes his length and you remove your mouth only to gently pull back his foreskin. The tip of his cock is flushed and shining. Looking up at him, you press the flat of your tongue against his slit. His one good eye rolls back.

"Gods, sister."

"Gaomagon ao hae bona, Aemond?" you ask coyly. Do you like that? You kiss down his length, and press him against your cheek in careful slaps. His cock jumps in your hand, and you smile.

When your mouth takes in his balls, he groans and his head drops back against the wall. You stroke him as you suck him, setting a rhythm that he ends up matching with his hips. It's beautiful, the way Aemond lets go with you, how he trusts you. In his most intimate moments, it's you he needs.

"Sister, stop, stop, I'm-"

You release his balls from your mouth, heavy and wet, and look up at him with shining eyes. Gripping the base of his cock, you watch him as he pants and his face constricts. "Come on my face," you tell him with a heavy gaze. "Show me you own me."

He shakes his head. "I can't."

He thinks it's dirty and debasing, he's told you before. But you want his filth tonight. "Please," you beg shamelessly. "I want it, brother. Please, give me your seed."

His cock twitches in your hand. His body wants it so bad, you can tell. The muscles in his stomach are so tense, and his breathing is laboured. He's fighting it.

"I want it so bad," you whimper. You kiss his flushed head, and you lick the seed that has already leaked there. "Please. Please?"

"Sister," he groans.

You're wet between your legs just from sucking him. It's such a treat to be allowed this that you don't know how to be sensible anymore. Suddenly, you kneel up and pull off your shift. You spit on his cock, and with one hand you hold his base hard to stop him from finishing, and with your other you coat him. He's wet, now, when you press him between your bare breasts. Your fingers catch your nipples as you hold yourself, and you open your mouth to lick his tip.

"Oh, gods," he swears. "Fuck, I'm- I'm-! Sister, I'm-!"

He gives you what you want. As he fucks your breasts, he comes with a strangled cry of your name. Seed shoots from him in hot spurts and it splatters across your chin and nose and chest, some sticking to your hair. He paints you, and it makes you feel drunk on love, on power. This is magic of the old freehold, the blood of the empire. He's your god, and you're his queen.

Aemond is still shaking from his orgasm when he falls to his knees and claims your lips in a deep kiss. His seed is passed between your lips and tongues, rubbed into your noses and cheeks. He tastes slightly sweet under the salt, warm and familiar. You fucking love it.

His trousers are still around his knees when he lies on the flagstone floor and pulls you atop him. Now this is a treat that is often indulged - where he is hesitant to let you use your mouth, he is desperate to use his own. He wastes no time in pulling you to sit astride his face. Your knees are either side of his ears, and your thighs are his crown. Whilst his mouth takes care of your cunt, his hands never remain still. When he kneads your breasts, you lean back and brace your hands back on his thighs. He moans so prettily between your legs. You like it best when he licks and sucks on your wet folds but holds his head still enough for you to find a rhythm on his nose.

His perfect nose.

Aemond can barely breathe under you. It's his heaven. You grind down as his lips carefully pull on your folds and his tongue swipes between them, devouring you. His nose catches your clit with well-practiced movements. Long fingers play with your nipples, and it makes you crash around him. Your whole body shakes as you come, the silence of your open mouth scarcely hiding from Aemond how hard he's had you.

After, you undress him and push him onto the bed you've shared with him countless nights before. He fucks you hard. He starts behind you, pounding into you relentlessly, but it's not enough. Aemond likes to watch your face. So then, he pulls your legs to the end of the bed while he stands and fucks you with a hand around your throat. His seed is still on your face and in your hair. In a moment of depravity, he catches flakes of it dried on your skin between his teeth and lets them dissolve on his tongue.

But tonight is about you, too. About reminding him that his wife be damned, he's yours. Aemond Targaryen is your love, your property. And so you pull him on his back and settle on top of him.

"You belong to me," you tell him in a low voice. His cock is red and pulsing as you grind it between your cunt lips. His fingers dig into your sides. "You'll always be mine."

"I swear it. Yours. Please, sister. Be good to me."

When you grind up his stomach and reach behind to hold him in place, he groans again. You hold each other's gaze as you guide him back inside you.

Your heart leaps every time he slots into you like this. It's the one true place that is home. "I'll always be good to you, Aemond."

And then you fuck him, hard. He pulls on your hair and you slap his face, and he drags his nails down your back and you suck on his neck until bruises flower. Proof of your ownership. Proof he's yours.

His high collar will hide it tomorrow, until he undresses. Then his Baratheon wife will see. Perhaps she won't understand, though, if she's a maiden with her virtue. She'll learn soon enough, though.

Only a Targaryen can love a Targaryen.

Neither of you even think about stopping to let Aemond pull out. When he quietly whines your name and his stomach tightens and his chest turns red, you encourage him and chase him into oblivion. He finishes inside you, and you feel his spend fill you. With his cock in you and his fingers pressing hard against your clit, you follow quickly.

You see stars, you see fire, you see storms. You see him.

You collapse onto his chest and sink into a state of nothingness.

After a while. the feeling of him returns. He's soft inside you now, keeping himself warm in the depths of you. His hands are stroking patterns on your back, and his cheek is against yours. You can feel his spend leaking from you. No, you think. Stay inside me, give me his child.

"Stay," you murmur quietly. "I command it."

"I will stay until dawn, if you'll have me." Aemond kisses your cheek.

You nod. With a wince, you carefully lift your hips and he slips out with a wet noise. When you roll off him, his strong arms stop you from going too far, and he hugs you close to him.

"Nothing will change," he whispers after a moment of peaceful quiet. He rests your foreheads together. This close, it's impossible for you to see him properly. All you can really see is the blurry glitter of the sapphire.

"Everything will change, Aemond."

"No," he insists. Sleep is coming for him "I would sooner have a dead wife than one who stops me from loving you."

"Do not jest."

He kisses you sweetly. "It's no jest. You are my priority, always. I will take a wife, yes, but she will never come close to you."

"That does not mean you should joke about killing her."

"It is no joke, sister. If she tries to come between us, she will die."

When Aemond leaves the next morning, Aegon is proud, and Grandfather is hopeful. Even Mother smiles. Only you watch with a blank stare.

When he returns, it is not news of a dead wife he brings you. No wife at all, actually, but a dead nephew.

You have to hide your smile. It is a fair exchange.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #mine

[ultralightpoe]

Blood of my Blood Pt 2 - Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: There will be a part 3 soon, and maybe a couple mini chapters after. But the final part of the series is part 3 

Warnings: Smut- reader gets lashed- Aemond kills 

Word Count: 3,252

Description: Your affair with Aemond could be exposed to the court. 

Part One --------- Part Three 

               Aemond had spent months as your lover, had spent every night he possibly could claim you as his, and he never once thought of you. 

               Well he thought of you, he thought of you while he ate and slept and rode his dragon. He thought of ways to make you smile and ways to kill your husband so he could protect you. You were on his mind every splitting second of every day. 

             But he never thought of you falling pregnant. 

                 It was your job, you had said as much on one of the many nights he spent sleeping in your chambers, with you tucked under his chin while rubbing your bare back. Neither of you had spoken above a whisper, and yet your words were still so loud to him. He blatantly ignored them. The thought of you falling pregnant with that man's child hurts. 

              He never thought of the chance the babe would come out with silver hair and purple eyes. He was selfish. So fucking selfish. 

             If that babe came out looking like him then you would be killed, prince or not there were rules that needed to be followed. His mother would never protect you, neither would his father. He needed to protect you. He needed to step up. 

               He got you appointments with the royal maestor, spent afternoons walking around the gardens with you for the exercise the maester recommended. He had more guards posted around your room so your husband wouldn’t be able to hurt you during your pregnancy. Not that it mattered really, now that you had fallen pregnant the vile idiot didn’t bother looking at you. 

              Oh how Aemond wished to tear his guts out one at a time.

              You were growing, your dresses now popping out and your breasts swelling in a way that had his pants tightening and a blush traveling his neck.  He was taking care of you, he was making sure you were okay. Moments he could not be there he had you sat in a room with Helaena, and you absolutely loved her. 

               Aemond realized that Helaena would say her crazed thoughts and you would indulge his older sister by making up fairytales, using her words as a prompt. 

            Things were going great. 

            Then his mother found out. 

             She called for him in her bedchambers, sitting on one of the many seats in her seating room, already glaring when he came in. “I know Aemond.”

              “You know many things, mother.” He snarks, hands coming to fold behind his back.

               “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare-” She snarls back, standing up with a hand on her stomach and another on her forehead in stress. “We both know you ended up being the most cunning of my children and you know I hate when you act-”

               “Mother-”

               “YOU’VE IMPREGNATED HER!”  She screams, hands flying wildly. “I let the fucking slide, assuming you wouldn’t think with your cock like your brother-”

                Aemond can only roll his eyes at that.

                “But then she fell pregnant and her husband was made aware and so was his grandmother. There is no option for moon tea, but it’s fine. There is no way my cunning son would ever let her fall pregnant. Then the maestor tells me of his most recent question on one of the visits he has been paying him for-”

             “You knew about th-”

              “I KNOW EVERYTHING! I have many people in this castle watching you, including the Maestor. Who was more than willing to report that you were questioning for ways of sensing if it was a Targaryen child-”

             “I need to know-”

             “So you can plan everything in your favor?! Kill the child and-”

           “I WOULD NEVER KILL THE CHILD NOR LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO EITHER OF THEM SO BEFORE YOU KEEP SPILLING ACCUSATIONS AT ME-”

             “And what happens when the child comes out looking like him? Huh? When it is his child?” She asks softly, moving closer. “Will you hate the babe? Hate her?”

               “I would be a better father than he ever would.”

               “It doesn’t matter to you the descent of the child.” Alicent mutters, realization finally setting in.

             “She matters. Y/n matters. I would be glad for that child to come out looking like his twin if it means nothing happens to her.” There were tears building up, teeth clenched as he looks to his mother. “They will kill her-”

             “We won’t let that happen.” She admonishes, pulling her son in. “I just needed to know you weren’t going to destroy this family.”

            “I would destroy anything if it meant she was safe.” And deep in his bones Aemond knew that he would have to. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

               Aemond spent the next 2 months plotting, on how he would get away with this all and still keep you safe. He thought of this as he lazed in his bed one morning, you right beside him. 

               Normally he would be out, taking Vhagar on her daily ride. But the bigger the babe got further into your pregnancy the more tired you became. So instead he stayed in, watching you sleep peacefully in his chambers instead of your own. 

                He also felt a little guilty at the fact that he took far too much pleasure in keeping you up late. 

              The further along you got the more insatiable you got. Any touch from him and you were moaning, round after round, which he was more than happy for.

                At this very moment he was looking at the marks he had left, from bitemarks to lovebites, all strewn across your skin as the sun showed in through the windows. He reached a hand to trace along one, before sliding it to your belly and feeling where the babe lay. This was something he did quite often while you slept. 

             Leaning forward he placed a small kiss on your stomach and began whispering to the child, praying to it. “You have absolutely no idea how much pride I would take in a child, but that would be a danger to us all, so just this once I ask you to listen.”

              “Are you begging an unborn babe not to look like you?” You giggle, eyes slowly peeking open as you stretch to the morning, breast close enough for him to lick at. This draws a fiery laugh from you before a moan, moving back to avoid his touches. 

              “That is not fair.” You say, breathy pants taking over as he crawls closer, growling like a predator. 

               “Twas not fair? Was it?” He smiles, looking down at you as he leans over your figure, hair hanging down around you like a curtain and purple eye gleaming whilst his sapphire glints in the sunlight. “Why is that Little Bird?”

                “You know how sensitive I am.” You smile, hand coming up to rub his neck lovingly while the other reaches to hold the wrist holding him up beside your head. “And it is far too late for you to do anything about it-”

               “I am the prince, it is not far too late for me to do anything.”

              “I am expected to see my husband and his grandmother today. Not to mention if I am seen leaving your quarters then it’s-” He interrupts you by blowing hot air on one of your nipples, drawing a moan from you. “Aemond-”

             “Y/n.” He mocks your serious tone, kissing you on the lips softly before sliding down and tugging the blankets off your lower half. 

               “Aemond-” You warn, but it is too late, your lover has already set his eyes on his mark and is diving for your cunt in no time. He is licking and sucking, pulling you into him by your thighs and refusing to let up as you moan and crumble beneath him. 

              You’re mewling his name over and over and he just cannot get enough of the sound nor your taste. He pushes you closer, so his nose can begin rubbing your folds as his tongue expertly moves into you. 

             It’s not long before your back is arching and you are screaming his name. 

              He leans back on his knees, panting as he licks his lips hungrily. You had made a mess of his face and leaned up to wipe it clean when his wrists caught both of yours. “What did I say about lifting a finger during your pregnancy?”

              “Am I not allowed to clean you up, my king?” You know exactly how to get what you want, and Aemond loves the playful look in your eyes as you speak the words. “Am I not allowed to clean the mess I made of my king? My one true-”

              His lips are on you in an instant, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down. You reach down and grip him softly, raising a brow. “Would a king leave a loyal subject wanting?”

           “Well I would ask you to bend the knee to me….but after last time…..” He teases, watching your face heat up and you snatch your hand away. 

             “You jest too much, lover. It was not my fault-” You defend as he laughs, hands cupping your cheeks as you relive the memory of getting stuck on your knees and having him lift you off the floor due to your stomach. 

              “I was going to say, if you simply let me finish my sentence…” He smiles, hands moving to rub your stomach. “If you could not bend the knee to me…. I must do so for you.”

              You raise an eyebrow, looking at him and he can feel his heart through his chest. “Aemond, what do you mean?”

“Marry me.”

“Aemond?”

               “Marry me.” He begs, getting off the bed to get on his knees before it, grabbing your thighs to pull you to him. “Let me kill him.” 

               “You would dishonor yourself by doing so-”

            “I’ve done far worse and would do far worse-” 

             “Aemond. You are not thinking properly.” You whisper, pulling him up to stand. “What would happen to me? To the babe?”

“You would marry me.” 

             “I would be scorned. This child would be treated like a bastard and it would ruin your family's honor.”

“Fuck my familys honor.”

                You seem to lose it at that, tugging his neck down so he is at your level. “Don’t ruin your life for me-”

“Don’t ruin yourself for a fucking honor code-”

“Nothing will happen to me. You’ll protect me. I know it.”

          You leave it at that, pulling him into the bed and letting him mark you over and over and over. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

           You sit by your husband in court, hand stroking your stomach in quiet contempt as you stare at the ground, just as you always did when you were near your husband. 

            Aemond hated that. He hated how weak and scared that man made you. He wished you would rip his throat out with your teeth. 

           His brother elbowed him harshly, drawing his glare away from where you sat with that monster. Aegon gave him a sneer, already knowing, but Aemond was too far gone to care. 

              He hadn’t seen you all day, your husband had summoned you to his chambers last night for pleasure which pissed Aemond off to no end. You were so far along in your pregnancy, and if that man had been even the slightest bit aggressive with you he would-

            He is once again drawn from his thoughts by his siblings, Helaena this time, pulling him by his arm as everyone leaves the throne room. “The little bird will scream as the dragon will unleash.” 

             His fists clench, heat traveling his neck as he looks down at her, letting her lead him. “What does that mean?”

              He had given up guessing what her riddles meant a long time ago, but this one struck a nerve he hadn’t realized he had.

“Eye to eye. Fate laughs at us.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

               He was separated from you all day. His sister Helaena had dragged him to sit with their mother for tea and then he had to attend a family dinner with his half sister and her bastard sons. 

               He got a small bit of release when he started a fight with his family, guards rushing to keep them separate as his uncle Daemon blocked his children from Aemonds attack. 

               It got worse when he entered his bedroom to find the grandmother. The old crone related to your husband, sitting on a settee with a smug smile placed onto her features. 

                His mother, who had come with him to bitch him out for his behavior, stopped short behind him. “Lady Mirva, might I ask why I find you waiting in my son's chambers?”

               “You might want to shut the door.” She smiles, drinking from her goblet of wine. “I’m sure you don’t want the castle to know my next words.”

               Aemond is stuck in place, one hand on his sword the other limply at his side. He senses his mother shutting the door before coming to stand behind him, a hand on his shoulder. “Speak.”

                “She will be killed, you know?” She laughs, looking at Aemond. “The second that bastard comes out they will have her head on a fucking spike, Targaryen or not. They’ll probably kill the bastard too.”

             “How did you figure it out?” Alicent asks, moving forward.

               “You really think I would move into this place without at least some foresight. I’ve been paying your maids.”  Clever. The maids would be the ones cleaning both their sheets and repairing the dresses he ripped. 

             “What do you want? You did not come here for nothing.” Aemond mutters, taking a step forward. 

             “I could say the babe died during labor, I have a maid in there with her now. It would be easy.”

              “In with her…..now? What do you mean?” Aemonds heart stopped, his hands shook, one tightening around his sword. “Is she in….”

             “I lashed her.”The crone admits, standing tall. “I beat her until she told the truth, and once she did I lashed her back until I drew blood. Labor started soon after that. I will make it a lot worse for all of you unless of course….”

             “Let me guess…” Alicent starts as Aemond processes the words. “You want your son to become a lord, and earn his own land.”

              “It’s what we have been fighting for since we came to this-” She didn’t get to finish her sentence, Aemonds sword driving straight through her neck in a swift movement. Her eyes were wide with fear, blood leaking from her neck as her head slid off. 

             Alicent looked away in shock as Aemond wiped the blood off his blade. 

              The room stays silent for a moment as Aemond stares at the crones body, a sneer laced onto his features while his mother lets out a sob. “We’ll be ruined. Aemond. Once…..once people find out she was slaughtered in your chambers we’ll be-”

              “She hurt Y/n.” It was all he needed to say for Alicent to stand tall, wiping her eyes. “You need to find Sir Cris-”

               “I need to find Y/n.” He snaps, moving to the door only to be snatched back. 

                “The second you step into that room and that babe is born with white hair it is all over. Get Sir Criston, now. I will tend to Y/n-”

“Her husband will-”

“I will attend to Y/n. Go. Now.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

           He kept his word and got Sir Criston……then immediately ran to your room. 

           His mother would be a fool if she thought he would stay away from you. It didn’t take long to reach the rooms, the door already slightly open allowing him to open it wider and peak in. 

Only to stop short at what he saw. 

              Your forehead was pushed up against Rhaenryas, hands fisted into the shoulders of his half sister's dress, sobbing for help. “Please don’t tell….please.”

             “It’s okay, no one is going to tell. I can send Daemon if you want for him to find-” His sister tries to ease his beloved, helping her into the bed. “But if he is here they will know.”

             It clicks, you had been asking for him, in your time of need you had wanted him. But that would put you at risk, and it became clear that he needed to leave. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Your husband had been out on the town the night you gave birth, the night Aemond slaughtered his grandmother. You had spent hours in the room with Rhaenrya, and Aemond had sat outside listening and praying. 

            He was sure the gods were laughing at him in this moment. The man who had slaughtered so many for fun…….. Now praying for the life of his love and her child. 

           He was about to begin praying again, when your screaming stopped and the room fell silent. No…No no NO NO NO NO NO NO.

          He launched up, ready to tear through the door until he heard the cries of a babe and the gasps of the maids. 

         “Lady Y/n……” He knew. That’s all he needed to hear to know. Shit. “You’ve given life to a boy.” 

          A boy. 

        He had a son…. You had a son. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

           Your room stayed busy until the early hours of the next day. 

            Your husband finally made it to see the child and there was a constant stream of handmaids coming to check on you and your injuries.  Aemond never got the chance to slip in, though he tried. 

           So he waited, going down to the training yard and taking all his frustration out on the poor guards training. He waited, to hear the news of your babe. To hear the gossip. 

           But nothing came. 

         Finally, in the early hours of the morning, he was able to slip into your room. 

            He found you standing there, gripping the arm of a settee and doubled over in pain. A slight anger took over as he rushed to you. “Is there a reason you are not resting?”

            “I was waiting for you.” You whisper back, turning to him slowly. His arms come up to catch you, wrapping around your waist as a feeling of pride washed over him. 

            “I heard the news. A boy…. You did it.” He whispers with a wide smile, setting you down. “You did amazing.”

“Aemond-”

               “You need to get to bed, you have injuries from a lashing as well as making a son. You shouldn’t be-” You look shocked when he mentions the lashing but ignore it, slapping a hand over his mouth to stop him. 

               He kisses your palm as his eyes close, breathing you in. “I need to know you’re okay.”

                 You kiss his temple as an answer, before moving to go grab a small bundle from your bed, turning to move back to him. He’s launching up in a second to save you a trip. 

              He helps you lay on the bed, grabbing the bundle from your arms and filling his eyes well up with tears as he looks down at the boy. 

Your hair. The child had your hair. 

             Thank the gods. 

              “It’s his…….” He’s ashamed to admit the disappoint crossed through him, but there was mostly pride. Then the babes eyes opened and Aemond gasped, his lungs exploding in his own body as the child stared at him. 

          The violet eyes that stared up at him completely wrecked Aemond, within moments he was quietly sobbing. Targaryen eyes.

          This was his family. He just had to remove one thing in his way. 

(Do you really think Aemond will let your husband live after this) 

#aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #House of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader

[sayafics]

Dance of Shadows - Chapter II

Thank you to everyone who showed so much love to Chapter I and waited so patiently for this chapter! I do hope you enjoy it. Reading all your comments and seeing your likes and reblogs made me feel so appreciated, so thank you again!

This chapter will be very Daemon/Saenyra focused, but please presume everything else happens as normal <3

This is quite a long chapter, but I hope it's worth the read!

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

The crowd roared in unison, a crashing wave of victory and excitement rolled through the tourney grounds as the people of King's Landing yelled in celebration - the tourney has begun, and so has Queen Aemma's labours.

Saenyra's father held the tourney in honour of her maybe-brother that was itching and turning to leave her mother's womb.

She wanted to be by her mother's side, to hold her hand, and ground her during the pains of bearing a child.

But Viserys had promised the girl Aemma would be fine, that it was of more importance she was to attend the tourney. As that was where her duty required her to be - an ornament, a prize placed at the forefront of a bloodied battle for men to lust for, soldiers to grovel for, and Lords to prepare bounties in exchange for.

Of course he had not said so directly to her, even his words, so gentle and kind, were not her's to listen to. Yet they were a silent command to follow.

Viserys had spoken the words to Rhaenyra, Saenyra had simply been there and nodded like the obedient child she was and obeyed an order they did not feel the need to grace her with.

In the back of her mind, Saenyra knew if her absence did not draw up the suspicions and whispers of the people, then her father would have paid no mind. Rhaenyra is heir, if not to the throne, then to Dragonstone.

She was simply a princess, with no power tied to her name nor land for her to cherish. All that came to her - all that would be her own, would first belong to the man her father asked her to marry. And, some nights, Saenyra feared she would not be able to deny her father's wishes, because she had always seen her father's words to her as they truly were - commands of a King, not the gentle whispers of a loving father.

The tourney had begun, and Saenyra sat next to her sister as she gazed upon the grounds, suppressing a flinch as she watched the men collide into each other with a violent crack. The sound was enough to snap her out of her reverie, realising she had already missed the introductions and did not know who was competing. She sat straighter, spine stiffening as she rolled her shoulders - it would not be good if the Lords and Ladies were to catch her ill-attention, cursing it as a lack of manners and a mockery to the Court.

She paid no mind to Alicent's and Rhaenyra's incessant whispers, knowing their words were not for her and to include herself would only lead to them drawing back until she stopped. So she sat, quiet and proper, eyes flitting over the game in front of her in feigned interest.

The man who had fallen was Ser Gwayne Hightower of Old Town, Alicent's brother. Saenyra remembers him well, recalls the whispers that Otto Hightower had proposed a marriage between his eldest son and one of Viserys' daughters, but it was Aemma who denied the match. She did not think it a coincidence when she had ran into the man the following evening in the library, and she was bound in suspicion when he offered to walk her back to her chambers.

To this day, Saenyra finds herself grateful that Ser Harwin Strong had found her in those moments, and she was gladdened to hear him offer to escort her back in his stead. Ser Harwin was a dangerous man, but he was also loyal to the crown and would do her no harm.

Ser Gwayne Hightower was his father's child, and Saenyra, despite all her years sharing the castle with him, had never known Otto Hightower enough to trust him.

She watched how Alicent held her breath as the armoured man knocked Gawyne off his horse with brutal ease. Ser Hightower conceded, and the man dressed in an armour of dark grey and riddled with red as dark as rubies cheered in victory.

Saenyra's eyes traced over the armoured man, following every curve and line that decorated the fine metal-work. She noticed him draw closer, and at his proximity Rhaenyra leapt up from her seat.

Rhaenyra exuded a familiar scent of childish glee at the sight of the man, and it was only then that realisation sunk in as gentle lavendar hues met the molten colour of vicious violet.

This was Daemon, dressed in armour fit for a dragon, so unlike the one she had seen him only before. He stood now, clean and shining. His eyes were bright, glowing with the fire of a new battle, his expression seemed eased, and Saenyra knew the tourney was nothing like the bloodbaths Daemon loved to seek.

"Nicely done, Uncle."

Daemon's eyes flitted to Rhaenyra, squinting against the sun as a pleased smile crossed his face. Saenyra couldn't help the jealousy that festered under her skin, to see her sister once again preen under the attention of their uncle who seemed to care for one sister more than the other - just like her father, just like her mother, just like the Kingdom and probably, just like her brother too.

"Thank you, Princess."

Daemon's words were spoken with a lilt, and any passerby would have assumed the man was enamoured by the girl who stood in front of him - the Realm's Delight.

Instead, his eyes bounced from Rhaenyra to her friend standing loyally beside her, and his mouth parted, ready to ask a question.

It was at that moment a glint caught Daemon's eye, and his eyes darted back to the quiet girl who sat in the shadows of her sister's tall and domineering presence. It was at that moment he remembered a call for a promise and a whisper to wait until the time came to be.

Daemon could have used such a promise to bargain some leverage, to gain the upper hand, and receive power or triumph in turn. But, eyes roving over the girl who avidly avoided his boring stare, he found he did not want to wait and see if a different opportunity arises. Not when he could live in a whispered moment of his desires right now.

"Now I am fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent," Daemon watched how Rhaenyra's face fell as he addressed her friend instead of her, knowing what question lay on the tip of his tongue, and for a moment Daemon truly felt pity for the girl. "But having the favour of one so kind and gentle would all but assure it," he watched Alicent radiate a warmth of eagerness at his words, despite her attempts to stifle it in Rhaenyra's presence.

As a man who abhorred the existence of her father and his twisted words, Daemon could not help the thrill that wracked through him as he continued his words and watched the Hightower girl deflate.

"Would you send for my dearest niece? I have a question for her."

Alicent looked between Rhaenyra and her sister, pulling herself together as she deliberated her next course of action. Daemon raised a brow, and she nodded hesitantly in reply. She stepped backwards - once, twice. As though she was waiting for Rhaenyra to stop her - she never did. So Alicent turned on her heels and walked ever so slowly towards Saenyra who determinedly looked towards her fumbling fingers and avoided the eyes of her sister's friend, dread settling in the pit of her stomach at the sound of the approaching figure.

"Princess, your uncle calls to you."

Saenyra looked up with a frown, "what does my uncle want with me?"

Alicent looked over her shoulders for a moment, glacing at Rhaenyra's tense shoulders and Daemon's narrowed eyes - "I believe it is something you must ask him."

Saenyra regarded her with suspicion, eyes flitting over to see her uncle and sister locked in a bout of seething words. She found she did not want to approach, worried of what she may hear and what she may be asked.

Did Daemon want to ask for his favour now? Was it truly to do with Rhaenyra? Was that why she was so angry? Did Rhaenyra not want her to overhear what Daemon plans to ask of her?

Despite all the questions echoing in her mind like a deafening storm, she finds herself standing in a graceful manner and making her way to them with Alicent lurking a step or two behind.

When they approached the pair, Daemon and Rhaenyra were sharing a gaze heated by the fire of dragons - Rhaenyra glared at the man as though they had shared venomous words, despite them not being overheard by others.

Saenyra waited a few steps back, hesitance clouding her mind as she waited - hoping Daemon would call to her.

And he did.

"Saenyra," her name sounded so sweet, rolling off his tongue, his anger that flowed in steaming waves now seemed to lull in the air of her presence. "I have something to ask of you," a knowing look crossed his face, a sign that he was referring to their meeting by chance a few short days ago, and it was as though he knew she had not forgotten about it either.

Saenyra glanced towards her sister, but Rhaenyra simply avoided her gaze and stood with a passive expression painted along her face. Saenyra cleared her throat, her voice almost a whisper as she spoke, unsure of what to say, "of course, Uncle. What is it that you desire?"

She had stumbled over her words, cringing as she spoke faster than her mind had been able to think. But Daemon paid no mind, though his lip quirked with amusement as he thought of asking for her, then and there.

Alas, he knew he could do no such thing. So he commanded, an air of reverence in his words, "give me your favour."

His words were simple, so close to the words he truly wanted to say, but knew he could not with his brother's watchful eyes upon him.

Saenyra's cheeks heated at his words, but she did not miss how Rhaenyra's fingers tightened upon the railing, nor how her jaw twitched as she clenched it in irritation.

She almost said no, a part of her even wanted to - fearful of hurting her sister's feelings and possibly losing her in some way. But there was a selfish part of Saenyra, so young and wanting, that had craved for a moment such as this, where someone would ask for her in place of her sister. And she would truly be mad to deny this moment, regardless of how fleeting it came to be.

She bit her lip in feigned contemplation, and Daemon found himself growing warm in the confines of his armour at the sight. She glanced back at Daemon, unable to stop the teasing smile slipping onto her face as she leaned towards him over the railing - "only if you say please."

A flare of pure, unadulterated want radiated through Daemon at her words, and he found himself leaning towards her without a care for the watchful eyes of his audience - "please."

Despite all his savage glory, his plea was close to a whimper, and it seemed to ignite something in Saenyra he had never seen before. Her eyes glance to his lips before moving back, she pulled herself back with heated cheeks and laboured breaths as she clears her throat.

Saenyra turned to grab her wreath, only to find Rhaenyra stood infront of her with it in her grasp.

She stared at her sister for a few moments, unsure of what to do. It seemed even her father was not sure if he should intervene, and Otto simply watched with an interested gaze.

Rhaenyra held the wreath tight, her unrelenting grip causing the flowers beneath to crumble and give in. Saenyra glances back to Daemon's waiting figure, a shroud of determination settles in her as she regards Rhaenyra again, taking slow steps towards her before holding the wreath firmly and taking it from her grasp, she spares her sister a stiff nod - "thank you, Sister."

Rhaenyra doesn't move, nor acknowledge her. She simply waits to see if Saenyra would truly go ahead with this, and give Daemon what he seeks.

Saenyra walks towards Daemon, her steps much more sure and confident. She leans over the railing and gives him a shy smile. He returns it with his own - a broad and mischievous grin.

She reaches towards him to place the wreath, and just as the flowers brush the tip of his sword, he cants his horse to step back away from her as a glorious laugh escapes him. Saenyra can't help the way her heart flutters at the sound, but she rolls her eyes all the same - "Uncle."

Her words were drawn out in feigned annoyance, and he pulled himself back closer at the sound, waiting for her to reach out again before moving away.

"Ugh, Uncle. I swear to the Seven, I will simply take my seat again, and you can fight without my favour."

Daemon tuts, "we can not have that now, can we? Perhaps to make it easier, you can come onto the grounds?"

He raises his brow in challenge, so sure she would not heed. But a look over her shoulder, into the eyes of her raging sister, was all it took for her to move towards the stairs and duck under the arms of a cautious guard.

She ignored the calls of her father and his Hand, the indignant call of Rhaenyra and her friend. She stepped onto the grounds with a huffed breath, but her lips were stretched into a traiterous smile as she walked towards Daemon, who met her halfway.

Daemon unmounted his horse, leaving his joust on the ground as he moved towards her in slow, deliberate steps. He paid no mind to the baited silence of their audience nor the exasperated calls of the Court. He stood in front of her, his armoured boots brushing against the billowing skirt of her dress - a pale pink that stood brightly against the sun.

Saenyra held the wreath out towards him, a simple ring of flowers decorated in shades of blues and yellows - her favourite flowers, irises and begonias, formed into a colourful cluster.

Daemon reached out to accept it. His fingers, encased in his harsh and cold armoured gloves, brushed slowly over the petals to then skim the skin of her warm and delicate hands. Saenyra shivered, goose-flesh running up her arms as she repressed the tremble that silently wracked through her body. His touch paused as metal met metal, and his armoured fingers glided against a ring made of familiar steel.

A ring, so dark and grand, sat on the Princess' hand in place of where her future bethrothed's would. And it was made of Valyrian steel, a shared piece of ancestry.

Daemon admired how the ring looked upon her finger, how the blood-soaked jewel hammered into it radiated against her skin as though it was proud of its wearer and yearned to be showcased because of it.

A shared piece of him.

***

Daemon had avoided Saenyra after his trysts in Silk Street, unable to meet her eye or hear her voice without his mind flashing back to his escapade with Myseria, where all he could think about was Saenyra.

The lengths he would have gone to have her, or someone that simply looked like her.

His stomach would roll with nausea, and his mind was heavy with questions. He found himself needing to apologise with no true need except for the guilt that plagued his mind due to his traiterous fanatasies.

The night after his venture with Myseria, he found himself lazing away in his chambers as the sun fell into the arms of the night sky and the moon rose in its place.

Daemon found himself staring up at the ceiling, eyes tracing over every animate shadow and ears on alert for every step and whisper that sounded at his doors.

His heart beat at a calm pace, but every thud brought a sinking feeling of unease to settle in the confines of his chest. His mind began to wander, his thoughts flitting between images of his night with Myseria, to his gift to Rhaenyra, to walking into his little niece.

Daemon remembers how he struggled to force his gaze away from her bare neck - a princess of a Kingdom so grand and powerful, and yet her father would rather have the girl dressed as a commoner than royalty.

Daemon scoffed at the thought - oh, how he wanted to adorn her in jewels and diamonds, to weigh her heavy in the best of refineries so others would see just how much her beauty was worth. How much she is worth.

But he had already given Rhaenyra a necklace, and he wasn't blind to Saenyra's stares of sadness and envy. He knew to give her the same gift he gave Rhaenyra would be nothing short of an insult.

He would do no such thing.

He closed his eyes in frustration, his racing thoughts barely allowing him to catch a breath long enough to lull himself to sleep. He sat up stiffly, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed as he held his head in his hands.

A deep sigh escaped him, thumbs digging into his eyes as though he was forcing away the images of Saenyra - trying to forget her moonlit hair, her pale eyes, her murmured words and her hesitant breaths.

Daemon glanced towards the fireplace that now burned low, the heat had dampened down, and a cold chill filled the air. It was a feeling akin to flying Caraxes in the winter sky, a scathing feeling that somehow brought a warmth to him all the same.

His eyes rested upon his sword, which stood defiantly against the hearth. Dark Sister looked almost black in the shadows of a dying fire, the rain-guard glinting a violent gold against the blade.

Rhaenyra's necklace had been a piece of shared ancestry.

But Saenyra deserved something more. For all she had done to be a dutiful daughter, she had not shared the grace of being a true dragon despite the blood of one burning through her veins.

When she was younger, a hopeful child who was so sure her egg would hatch as she aged, Daemon had pitied the girl. Even now, his heart would clench in sympathy for her. But he could see how such a loss of an opportunity had strengthened her.

She was just as much of a dragon as he was, despite never having one to call her own. She was just not able to see it yet.

Daemon saw a fragment of his soul in hers. The part of him that yearned for his father's approval, his brother's love. The fraction of him who had ached and begged for a dragon before he made it his mission to tame his own.

Daemon had called for a blacksmith the next day before daylight had broken and offered a pouch of Gold Dragon coins with one hand and his Dark Sister with the other.

Daemon knew exactly what his sweet girl deserved - what she needed.

Saenyra was a dragon, through and through - she simply needed a reminder of such.

The blacksmith had returned before dark, standing nervously with trembling hands as he offered Daemon his sword with one hand and held forth a cotton bag in the other.

Daemon glanced over his sword, his eyes easily catching the part that did not belong. The pommel was the same gold as his rain-guard, but it seemed dainty in comparison. He longed to hold his sword and test it for deficiencies, but his eyes caught the ivory bag clenched tightly in the hands of the blacksmith.

Daemon laid out his hand, and the bag was placed upon it with hesitance. Daemon rolled his eyes at the man's slow movements and snatched the bag away, pulling the ties open and tipping its contents into the palm of his hand.

A bejewelled piece of metal fell with a light thump. The metal felt familiar, even though it had been melted and twisted into something he did not recognise.

The band was simple, engraved with vines and flowers that were so quaint yet so detailed. And fitted perfectly in its centre sat a timid, glowing jewel likened to a pool of congealed blood.

Daemon thought back to the necklace he gifted to Rhaenyra, how its jewels were a bright and lively red. A mockery of who Daemon pretended to be.

This jewel, this colour, this steel. It was a part of him - a reflection of who he was. It was admiration and bloodshed and protection all in one. It was a silent promise and a vicious outcry.

It was a gift, fit for a princess. Fit for Saenyra.

Daemon reached for his sword, turning it over to have a look at the pommel of his sword where Valyrian Steel had been replaced by something else - it was a worthwhile sacrifice, he thought. His hands fisted around the ring, relishing in the feel of it imprinting against his skin.

Daemon had walked through the Keep with the ring settled in the pocket of his chemise for days now, unable to bear the courage to face her in fear of what his desires may ask of him.

It was not until the day of the tourney that he found himself in front of the youngest Princess' chambers. He nodded in greeting to her guards, not waiting for them to announce his presence before he marched into her chambers - he could not risk allowing hesitance to cloud his decisions and walk away.

Daemon held his breath as he closed the doors behind him. Saenyra sat at her dresser, combing through her hair before the sound of Daemon's loud entry forced her eyes to meet his in the reflection.

She was still dressed in her sleeping gown, a sheer shade of pearl that hugged against her figure. Daemon roved his eyes over her by instinct, hungrily drinking in the sight of her whilst he could. Saenyra was not blind to his devouring stare, clearing her throat despite her skin flushing under his heated gaze - "Uncle, can I help you?"

Daemon's eyes met hers, and the desire that pooled in them began to wane as he pulled himself together into the semblance of a gentleman.

"Saenyra," there it was again, her name passing through his soft lips with a gentle caress, "I have something for you."

She raised a brow in question, turning to look over her shoulder at him instead, "and what would that be?"

Daemon did not speak further, he walked closer towards her before stopping at the foot of her bed. He sat cautiously, waiting to see if she would object and send him away, but the girl was much too curious to do such a thing.

He beckoned her forward, and she hesitated for a moment.

"Come."

His voice was firm, as though he knew she would obey without question, and as she stumbled to her feet, she had the fleeting realisation that she would do anything Daemon had asked. She would follow him to the ends of the world and more, if he so desired.

She stood in front of him, and still she felt so small despite the fact that he had to look up to her. Her hands fiddled with the ends of her gown, which brushed against her thighs lightly - the idea she was so exposed in front of her uncle sent a shiver down her spine.

Daemon forced himself to keep his eyes upon hers, to not disrespect his darling niece when she had so politely adhered to his wishes despite the burning temptation to drink in the sight of her bare legs only a hairs-breadth away.

If he leaned forward, he was sure he could run his lips against her bare skin, and his body heated at the thought of her trembling under his touch.

He shook himself from his thoughts, looking upon Saenyra with adoring eyes as one of his hands took hers. He tugged her gently, tempted to pull her onto his lap but knowing it was a move much too daring.

Instead, she fell neatly onto her knees between his parted legs, and Daemon had to hold back a groan. She eyed him with such trust, full of so much naivety and innocence he found himself intoxicated with the idea of corrupting her and taking her as his own.

But he couldn't.

Shouldn't.

"I have a gift for you."

His words were a gasped whisper, spoken only between their shared breath that she had almost missed it, becoming so distracted by his warmth - by his dragon fire.

She blinked slowly, as though she was confused, "for me?"

He smiled at her, kindly. Something so unlike Daemon that even he was struck with the oddity of their circumstances. Still, he nodded.

She frowned, "why?"

His head tilted in sympathy to see his niece so surprised by such an act - "why not? Anything for my favourite niece."

Her eyes widened in surprise, "I'm your favourite?"

He grinned, "who else could it possibly be?"

Her head became down-turned, "everyone knows you love Rhaenyra more."

Her words struck a cord in his heart, is that what she truly believed? "And yet it is you I brought a gift for."

She looked back up at him, her face dead-pan as she spoke, "that is because you already brought her one. This is probably something gifted out of guilt."

She was close to the truth, but not entirely. This was a gift out of guilt for his wreckless thoughts and violent desires, but it was also a token of his devotion. Not that his dear niece needed to know.

He shook his head in turn, "this is so much more."

His hand reached into the pocket of his chest, nimble fingers pulling out the jewel he held so close to his heart as he waited for this moment. Her lips parted at the sight of it, and Daemon was sure he saw unshed tears pool within her eyes.

"That's for me?"

"Just for you."

Her eyes flickered to meet his disbelief, painting her expression - "Daemon," she spoke his name as though it was natural to her, and it sang with melodic delight causing desire to curl in his chest and hum contentedly. "Daemon," she repeated, so sweetly and softly, "I can't accept this."

"Yes you can."

"It is too much. It would not be fair to accept such a prize with nothing given in return."

Mischief raided through his heart as though it was a second nature, it clashed with desire and became pronounced - "then take it in exchange for another promise. A bigger one," his voice dipped, lowering into a whisper, "a dangerous one."

Saenyra didn't let her gaze fall from his, she knew she should deny him and his gift. She should send him from her chambers and pretend nothing had happened, but to have him so close and to see him act so daring, to challenge her so openly - it sparked a burning fire within her, setting her dragon alight - "so, what is it that you want?"

Her words felt like an echo of the ones she had said to him only days ago.

"I guess you shall have to wait and see."

She couldn't help the shy smile that slipped across her face at his echoing words, nor the heated flush that painted her cheeks as she felt him take her hand and slip the ring onto her left hand. It sat snugly on the finger where her future bethrothed's ring would have sat. And a small part of Saenyra, the one so selfish and greedy, knew no other man would have been able to produce a perfect fit for her apart from Daemon.

Saenyra couldn't pull her eyes away from his, she watched as his eyes darkened under her curious gaze. His own glanced towards her lips that she bit anxiously, and a thumb came to brush across it softly as he pulled it out before she could abuse it further.

His thumb sat on the bed of her lip, and he kept her gaze with a new ferocity. She glanced to his now, watching how he wetted his lips under her watchful gaze as his head grew heady with desire.

A knock on the door, loud and harsh, startled her from his grasp. His hand was still outstretched towards her, and his eyes never left her, even as she stood and brushed the gown straight.

Ser Harwin entered the room, a curious gaze passed between the unusual pair, before he focused upon the simmering figure of Daemon Targaryen- "my Prince, the King calls for you. The tourney is to begin."

Daemon lets out a frustrated sigh as he pulls himself to his feet, he walks towards Saenyra and pulls her focus back onto him. He holds the hand bejewelled with a piece of him and presses a longing kiss upon her knuckles - "I hope to see you on the grounds, Saenyra."

She did not get a chance to reply. He turned on his feet and walked out her chambers - not without sharing a sharp glare with Ser Harwin Strong.

After he had left, Saenyra shared a nervous smile with Ser Harwin before he prompted her to get ready as he would send the handmaids to help her. She nodded in agreement, returning to her dresser to brush through her hair, but throughout it all, she was unable to tear away her gaze from the fine ring that adorned her hand.

A flutter sang within her chest, and a traiterous smile and bubbling laugh escaped her as she thought of Daemon's glimmering eyes and bright smile.

***

Daemon had been knocked onto the grounds by Ser Criston Cole, the man was skilled in tourneys but Daemon was better - more experienced.

He launched from the grounds, demanding his sword before slashing and swinging against Criston's flail. He sent a frenzied attack that was oragnised yet doused with the fire of unbridled rage.

He admired the man's strength and his stubbornness, but Daemon was not one to lose.

He had knocked Criston to the ground, Daemon's shield had been shattered to splinters, but he swung his sword with ease, his golden pommel a shining beacon for the girl who owned the original piece.

He turned towards the audience, towards her - cheering and celebrating. He searched for the missing part of his sword in the victorious cries of the Court, in their waving arms and broad smiles. His sword usually felt light in his hand, as though it was an extension of him, but the longer he struggled to seek her out, the heavier it felt.

She had left the tourney before he had even succeeded, she had not waited to celebrate his victory, she had not shared a parting goodbye or stayed for a boisterous celebration.

And with her, she had taken her favour.

Daemon had let his guard down, and Criston had taken advantage of his wavering heart and beat him to the ground whilst his back was turned - the act of a coward, but the rise of a victor.

Daemon yielded.

His eyes closed in frustration as his mind flooded with flashes of her once more - why had she left?

***

Within the walls of the Keep, Queen Aemma's cries sounded loudly. Saenyra had wanted to comfort her mother, but they tore her apart before she could reach her.

They let her mother cry and scream and beg until her last dying breath. And the babe followed shortly after.

Perhaps her mother did not care for her as much as she did Rhaenyra, but Aemma was her mother.

Perhaps the babe would have preferred his eldest sister, the dragon-rider, to his other sister, the timid. But Baelon was her brother.

She had gained the affection of her uncle, but lost her mother and her brother as consequence.

Saenyra felt as though her body revolted in the shadows of a dark and humourous curse, one that took and took and gave so little.

Saenyra stared at the ring Daemon placed upon her finger, her eyes were blank and her face was streaked with tears, her breaths were coming out short and panicked and she tried her best to avoid her mother's gasping breaths, her pleas for a daughter who was absent and not the one who was present, her last tear and her father's wails.

She stared at the ring, and a piece of her - the growing envious beast within - wished she had never accepted the token, believing if she did not, she would still have the half-love of a mother and the possible love of a brother, in place of a displaced infatuation of an uncle.

She wanted Daemon, but she was not sure how.

She wanted Daemon, but she wanted her mother more.

I honestly loved writing this chapter, it was like the words just flowed. I really do hope you guys like it! Please comment, like, and reblog! Every single one is so greatly appreciated <33

I have so many ideas for the next few chapters, I can't wait!!

Taglist: @marihoneywk @ahristata @gracielikegrapes @luanasrta @pet1t3

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon targaryen angst #hotd x oc #hotd x reader #hotd fandom #hotd fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon

[pinkydevil16]

can u do a oneshot where jace and y/n are betrothed by order of king visery so Jace spends the day with you to try to get to know you better. he’s been in love with you since they were both kids,maybe Then on the night of their wedding it gets a little spicy 🖤🐉

reader is alicents and viserys daughter

Being the youngest child of Alicent and Viserys meant Y/n would only be useful to build alliances. She knew this from a young age, not given the freedom her older sister Rhaenyra was granted instead her mother Alicent made her spend her days with a Septa, the old lady forcing Y/n into the role of the perfect princess. Y/n did not understand her mother's hatred for Rhaenyra and her children, but Y/n had not been there nor in the room when her mother had attacked her older sister. She was too young at the time to understand what happened. Rhaenyra had never been cruel towards her and Y/n never listening to her family when they called her children bastards. She had always been close with Jacaerys, he made her laugh and would defend her against Aegon's teasing. She did not see her Nephew again until after her 18th birthday, she was surprised she hadn't been married off but her father declined all suitors, including her mothers idea of marrying her to Aemond. Both of which parties had declined, Aegon had made a comment asking to have a second wife like the first of his name had. That had also been turned down and his mother slapping him, it seemed her father had a plan for her which he kept close to his chest. Rhaenyra and her children returned to kingslanding to defend Lucerys claim against Vaemond. Y/n had not attended, not caring to hear her older sister be insulted as she was sick of listening to everyone around her. They only hated her because she was a woman, if she were a man her children would not matter. Y/n attended the banquet, sitting beside Jacaerys as everyone got on, even her mother and sister laughing together. She could see her father fighting back tears as he watched him family, finally whole again. Her father stood, everyone turning to him as he spoke.

"I have an announcement. I have decided who my youngest daughter will marry, to reunite our families and bring peace our great name i declare she will marry Jacaerys Valeron." Rhaenyra smiled at her father, having discussed it previously with him. Jace could not stop the smile on his face, standing and extending his hand to Y/n. Smiling back at him she stood taking his hand, both raising their glass as everyone drank. Jace would not admit it out loud but he had always found Y/n to be beautiful, when they were children he had asked him mother if he could marry her, his mother had found it cute and spoken to her father. Rhaenyra did not think her father would have kept his promise all these years.

Jace spent the next few days spending time with Y/n supervised by her septa, he could not help but find it adorable when she would be scolded for being unladylike and respond with a cheeky smile towards him. Both finding themselves rekindly their bond and feelings from childhood, Y/n rushing her septa along each morning to spend more time with Jace. As the wedding drew nearer Y/n and Jace began to sneak around, both wishing to speak honestly than the secretive conversations they had infront of her Septa.

"You are beautiful Y/n, although i think you'd look better in red or black." Jace said with a laugh as they walked, Y/n joining in her arm looped in his as they walked through the dragonpit. "I think you are right Jace, i must admit i am quite excited for our wedding. It will be nice to know i am marrying someone i love rather than a disgusting old man wanting an alliance." Y/n spoke so quickly she did not realise her confession, Jace blushed hard and continued walking as she kept talking about her wishes for married life. His blush darkening as she spoke of children, teaching them how to ride dragons and taking them to dragonstone. His step-father had taken him to the whore houses in kingslanding saying he needed to keep his wife happy, he felt very odd learning to make love to someone other than his wife.

"And how many children would you like Y/n?" Jace spoke, his voice naturally deepened from his thoughts, Y/n stopped walking as she realised what she had been speaking about. The hint in his question making her blush wildly, stuttering over her words as she changed the topic. Jace could not stop his affection grow as they spoke of their childhoods.

The night of the wedding was coming to a close, everyone drinking wine and laughing as they grew closer. Alicent and Rhaenyra speaking as they did when they were younger, Viserys had declared the night before Rhaenyra as his heir. It was clear he was on his death bed however he rose to walk his daughter down the aisle, Y/n kissed his cheek as he sat down. It was odd seeing her whole family relaxed and happy, Lucerys had apologised to Aemond for his eye and even offered his own to mend the feud. Aemond had been mature and declined saying there was no bad blood now, Aegon had never been so happy he was finally not heir and his mother let him be. Everyone slowly dispersed until it was only Y/n and Jace walking towards their new chambers, both nervous as the entered.

Jace held Y/n's face, looking into her eyes before kissing her gently, Y/n kissing back immediately. Her hands running up his arm towards his neck, pulling him closer, his arm wrapping around her waist as they walked back towards the bed. Her knees meeting the bed as she fell back, her lips pink and swollen from his kisses, his dark eyes looking down on her as he pushed some hair from her face.

"I always wanted to marry you, ever since we were young." He confessed with a soft smile towards her, Y/n pulled him back towards her, kissing him again as she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. Jace was everything she dreamed of and she knew she had fallen for him in the time they had spent together. The two melding together as their kisses became needy, small whines coming from Y/n as Jace ran his hands along her leg upto her thigh. Pulling away Jace asked to help her remove her dress, Y/n nodded standing with her back to him, facing the bed as she expected him to take it off her quickly. Jace trailed his hands along her shoulder, pushing her hair away as he slowly untied the lace. His hand brushing against her bare skin as he gently pushed it further off her shoulder, goosebumps covering her body at the anticipation. "You are stunning." He whispered against her skin as he kissed her shoulder blades, his mouth grazing over her neck. Her dress loose enough to slip down, his arms wrapping around her as the bodice slowly dropped. Her naked back against his clothed chest as he kissed her neck, small moans coming from her as he manipulated her head to get access to her throat. Small love bites along the column of her neck, his hand moving from her waist to gently grasp her breast. Y/n's head dropped to his shoulder allowing him as much of her skin as he could get, her eyes closed as she moaned gently against him. Her change in position causing her dress to fully slip down, revealing her naked body to her husband. Jace grazed his hand from her waist down until he nudged her legs apart his nimble fingers pressed between her folds. The new contact making her moan, her hand coming to hold his arm as he began moving his fingers. "Jace, what are you doing?" She breathed out, turning her head only for her question to be silenced by his mouth. Kissing her as he quickened his fingers, her body responding quickly as his hand moved from her breast to hold her against him at her waist. Her breathed becoming laboured, her grip on his arm tighter as small moans came from her. Her stomach tightening as he broke the kiss to suck marks on her neck, finding a good hold on her to pinch at her breasts, fondling them as he whispered encouragements to her. One of his fingers moving further down and slipping into her, a loud moan coming from her as he slowly fucked her with his finger, adding another as she squeezed him. "Jace i can't, i don't know what's happening." She spoke as she felt herself getting closer, she hadn't been prepared for this, her septa always explaining to simply lay and let her husband do as he wished, reminding her it would hurt. This did not hurt, she could feel her toes tingling as he carried on his ministrations, her words only making him praise her more. "You're doing so well for me wife, i have to prepare you, you're so good for me, so perfect." As he spoke his fingers sped up, his thumb in time as he felt her legs shake. Y/n coming as she breathlessly spoke his name, her legs giving out as she did. Jace catching her and laying her gently on the bed, sucking his fingers clean before beginning to strip.

"That was just a taste Y/n, i hope you're ready for a long night." Jace spoke as he kissed up her leg.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #house of targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd smut #jacaerys x reader

[mybeautifuldelirium]

Hi there ♥️ could U do a aemond x dothraki slave fanfic in where she works as a Maiden and aemond Takes and Interest in her because He has never Seen a dothraki before💕 thankyou love

The Wildflower From The East || Aemond Targaryen x Dothraki!reader part 1

A/N this is my first Aemond fanfic so please go easy on me lol

but I hope you like it. It turned out longer than I had expected, but I really wanted to include some backstory and character build up, so lmk if you’d like a Part 2 xx

Summary: Aemond is so captivated by his sister’s new maid that he makes her help him bathe, just so he can hear the fascinating tales from her foreign lands, will he be able to take her out of his mind?

Part 1/?

Warnings: none

Y/N couldn’t remember how long it had been since she last saw her homelands of the Dothraki sea, oh how she missed riding through the mazes of tall thick grass while having the burning Essosi sun gently glaze her skin, she even missed all those ruthless conditions that no lady from the west would ever imagine surviving.

Alas here she was, miles away across the narrow sea in a foreign land. What a cruel fate she had, being sold by her own kin to the slavers of Yunkai only to be brought to King’s Landing as an exotic gift for the Targaryen princess Helaena.

Queen Alicent wasn’t keen on the newly arrived maiden, a filthy savage, she thought of her, unfit to serve her royal daughter. However much to her disapproval, the princess quickly grew close to her new companion indulging in her stories from the foreign lands.

The sun had just risen moments ago and the refreshing scent of the morning dew still lingering in the air. It was hauntingly quiet during this time of day, the only noticeable sound coming from the clashing swords in the courtyard, per usual the Targaryen princes were training with ser Criston. That was when Aemond first saw the foreign maiden.

Y/N was following closely behind his dear sister, who perhaps was once again looking for one of her dreadful creatures in the courtyard. Unlike his brother, the one eyed prince, never paid attention to the maids, however he couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N, she looked nothing like any Westerosi maiden he had seen, there was something striking about her, something so intriguing.

“Ahh the savage girl, a pretty thing she is” smirked Aegon making him turn with a puzzled look.

“Haven’t you heard? They say she’s a Dothraki, sold as a slave at that. Can’t imagine how mother allowed her to serve our beloved sister” he laughed.

‘A Dothraki?’ Aemond thought to himself, he had only heard vague stories about them, from the old septas, but she looked nothing like the images of the ruthless barbarians that these stories had portrayed.

Over the following days the younger prince would secretly throw glances at her every chance he got and although he wouldn’t admit it to himself he just couldn’t take her out of his mind.

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with bright colors. Y/N was wandering through the long corridors as princess Helaena had granted her the permission to go bathe herself. Y/N however had decided to use some of the time to explore the castle, indulging in the silence. She has never liked the feeling of being constrained by walls, even the lavish house of her master in Yunkai repulsed her, oh how she missed roaming free on the back of her horse. Consumed by memories of the past, she bumped into something, or rather someone.

As she slowly lifted her head, her eyes were met with a glistening violet gaze that was piercing right through her. The man had long flowing silver hair much like the one of her princess, he had a patch covering one of his eyes but it was unable to overshadow his handsome face .

“Ah so you are the Dothraki maiden” a cunning smirk was lingering on his lips. “Do you speak the common tongue?”

“Yes” she confidently replied, trying not to stare.

“Yes, your grace” he corrected her with a stern expression. “Well then, you are a maid, aren’t you? Go, draw me a bath” he pointed to his chambers with his smirk reappearing.

“I can’t do that, your grace” she answered, mocking his use of the title.

“You do realize, you’re speaking to the prince, how dare you disobey me” he said, now annoyed, but his smirk still apparent.

This nevertheless did not intimidate Y/N “I only serve the princess Helaena my prince”

This response however, only further angered Aemond, he grabbed her by the arm, now his eye staring directly into hers “You’ve heard of dragons, I suppose” he slyly grinned “I happen to be the rider of the largest one there is, all it takes is one of my commands” he twirled a lock of her hair without looking away from her eyes.

Y/N sighed, slowly entering his chambers, as she heard the heavy wooden doors closing behind them.

Quickly she went to fill in the tub, feeling the prince’s gaze never leaving her. Once the tub was filled with warm water and the alluring aroma from the herbs she had placed filled the room, Y/N finally stood up and faced the prince, no longer trying to hide the irritation in her voice.

“May I go now, your grace?”

Aemond locked eye with her, devilish grin playing on his lips “do you expect me to tend to this myself?” He motioned to his attire, covered with filth and dirt, or was it blood.

This time Y/N didn’t even try to object, she knew there was no point in doing so. She mumbled something In Dothraki to herself and cautiously began helping him rid himself of the dirty clothes. Despite her pride and stubbornness Y/N couldn’t deny the otherworldly beauty of the Targaryen prince. He resembled no other man she had ever seen, be it in Yunkai or in the Dothraki hordes. Targaryens were closer to gods than to men, she had heard.

Only when Aemond was left in his breeches did Y/N finally revert her eyes, waiting until she heard the splash from the water. She then kneeled by the tub and started scrubbing his pale skin, desperately trying to escape his gaze. Aemond however kept his eye on her, closely examining her features. Something about this Dothraki girl was drawing him in, he wondered what her story was, how did a savage girl find herself all the way across the narrow sea as a maid to the princess. Aemond could tell she had been taught basic manners and some etiquette along with the common tongue, but even those could not fully conceal her wild upbringing. Her untamed hair was cascading like a waterfall down her back, with several complex braids on top of her head as per Dothraki traditions. She looked rather uncomfortable in her dainty silk gown, he wondered what she was used to wearing.

“What happened to your eye?” Y/N suddenly broke the silence, now examining the leather patch that covered his eye. For a moment, the bluntness of her question caught the prince off guard.

“Curious, are we?” His smirk once again reappeared. “One day I might tell you, but first you owe me a story Wildflower”

“A story?”

“You think I’m unaware of the captivating tales you’ve seemed to tell my beloved sister?” “Don’t you think me worthy of hearing them as well” he gave her a challenging look, their faces now only inches apart.

“Ok then, my prince, as you wish” it was now Y/N’s turn to smirk. She loved telling stories of her lands, they made her feel close to her home, evoking memories of the time when she was free.

Aemond became so enamored with the way the young maiden was narrating her stories, he didn’t notice the water getting cold.

Suddenly Y/N dropped the rag and got up “I must go! The princess!” She rushed to the wooden doors, all manners long forgotten. The prince wanted to stop her, but his pride didn’t let him.

About to get out of the tub, he then saw something glistening under the murky water, it was a gold pendant shaped like a delicate flower, a simple, yet striking piece of jewelry. ‘She must have dropped it’ he thought.

That night Aemond couldn’t get her image out of his head, why was he - a dragon prince so preoccupied with the thoughts of a simple maid from the far eastern lands, he couldn’t explain it to himself, but even if he wouldn’t admit it, he knew that he had to see her again.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x oc #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house of the dragon imagine

[moonlightazriel]

Grown /// Aemond X F!Reader

Summary: You've been around the Targaryen family ever since you were a kid, as your father was their business partner, you were always fond of the second Targaryen son, but he was never nice to you, until he see you again years later.

Warnings: Smut and some cursing words.

Word Count: 2,3K

Notes: I love Grown by Little Mix and i love Aemond, why don't use both on a fanfiction?

Main Masterlist

The Targaryens were charming people to be around, something about them was so enticing, that people would do anything to be near them, striking a deal with Viserys? That was the best thing that could happen to a company. So when her father walked through the double glass doors, saying they were partners with the Targaryens now, even at a young age, she knew it meant a good thing for them.

Alicent was immediately happy to have some company for Helaena, as her daughter has always been a little shy and people tend not to include her much. Y/N was also happy to make a new friend, Hel was just a year older than her, but that didn’t stop a friendship from blossoming between the two. Helaena grew even more fond of the other younger girl, when she appeared one day, gifting her a shirt with matching centipedes on it.

So Y/N has been around them ever since she can remember, and as she grew older, her feelings for a certain second-born son started to naturally grow too. She didn’t know what it meant at first but whenever Aemond was around her, she would get so shy, her cheeks flushed red and she would stumble on her words, he thought it was cute, but Y/N was and it would ever be his sister’s best friend.

Whenever she tried to do a nice thing for him, he would politely thank her and run away from her. This made her sad but she always dismissed it as being the way he was. Things took a drastic turn when an accident in school between him and another boy left him scarred for the rest of his life, she didn’t mind the scar on his face, nor the missing eye, she just wanted to be by his side, let him know that she was there for him, no matter what.

It was in one of these attempts to cheer him up, in the gardens of the Red Keep, the age-old estate belonging to House Targaryen, that he shattered her heart. She had excused herself from Helaena’s side and found him by a tree, reading in the sun. The sunlight made his silky white hair glow even brighter.

“Is this a nice book?” She shyly asked, fidgeting with her hands behind her back. His blue eye looked at her, and the bored expression he wore when he looked at her made her shiver, a hole in the pit of her stomach as he watched her, looking her up and down.

“Ahm.” It was the only answer he mumbled to her, if she could go back in time, she would’ve dragged her 15-year-old self away and never looked back. 

“I don’t think I have read this one yet.” She cheerfully said, trying to make the conversation less awkward, Aemond sighed and had to hold back the urge to roll his eyes at her. His face contorted into a smirk, his pink tongue wetting his lips before he spoke the words that broke her heart.

"Can you stop following me around? I don’t want you around me, go get lost somewhere, this is never going to happen." The words stung deep within her, her heart splitting in half as Aemond Targaryen got up and turned his back to her, walking away, she didn't understand why he didn't like her when all she did was be nice to him.

Her chest hurt as he ripped her heart out and stomped on it, She only noticed the tears when her mother found her, standing still in the same place in the gardens, the sun making her tears shine the same way they made him glow moments before. Her mother looked at her worried, asking what was wrong, she just mumbled that she wanted to go home.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The warm breeze of King’s Landing welcomed her. She took a deep breath, she had missed her city, her home, and everything about this place. 4 years ago she had left this place, not wanting to be around Aemond Targaryen anymore, at that time, her parents thought it was a great opportunity to send her to a prestigious private school in Winterfell, the north was a nice place, she made really good friends there, the only person of her old life she ever kept in touch was Hel, who would often visit her in Winterfell or meet her at her family’s vacation home in Dorne. 

She spotted the silver hair in the distance, a sunglass hanging on the tip of her nose, and a summer dress filled with sunflowers, that was so Helaena that she almost cried at the sight, rushing to her best friend’s open arms. 

“Can’t believe you’re here,” Hel whispered with her face buried in Y/N’s neck. “You’re here to stay, right?” Her eyes were glassy with tears.

“We made a promise that we would go to the same college one day, didn’t we?” She poked Helaena’s belly and she laughed. Hel was a year ahead in college, and as they made their way to Helaena’s convertible, they talked about how college has been for her, and how Y/n was feeling, the Targaryen knew that her brother had fucked up and that being back must’ve been hard for her, which Y/N just shook her head and reassured her that she was fine.

“Since you’re fine, Aeg is throwing a party in his frat house tonight, do you want to come?” Hel looked at her from the top of her glasses, her puppy dog eyes shining in expectancy. Y/N just nodded, turning the volume of the music and screaming the lyrics with the blonde. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You will come, now get up and get ready.” Aegon groaned, pulling his arm and making him stand. Aemond sighed.

“Why would I want to go to your stupid frat party?” Aegon had a glint of mischief in his eyes, something that told Aemond things would go really wild tonight.

“This time is special, I just know you wouldn't want to miss it. Now c’mon.” He ushered Aemond towards the bathroom.

15 minutes later Aemond finished spraying the cologne on his body, he was wearing black skinny jeans, some old Valyrian band t-shirt, and his jean jacket. His hair was in a half ponytail behind his back, and his signature eyepatch was in place as he waited for his Uber, if he was going to go out, why not drink a little? And unlike Aegon who loved to drive while he was drunk, and had crushed at least two cars, he enjoyed his safety and always ordered someone to pick him up whenever he was going to drink.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The party was crowded, as they always were, Aegon was all about going big or going home. He was sipping on some cheap drink, his hands clutched on the red plastic cup, eyeing the crowd, when he spotted another silver head among them, Helaena was walking inside, looking around, she saw him, nodding her head in his direction, her eyes a little wide. She turned her head back, whispering to someone and walking away from him. 

He scoffed in annoyance, Helaena would never ignore him, was she mad at him? He got up, sipping the rest of his drink as he followed after her, he found her in the kitchen, pouring some drink into two different cups.

“Are you avoiding me?” He asked and his sister turned her head to him, ready to give him some lame excuse and go away. She wanted to avoid being near him for the sake of her best friend, she didn’t even know he was going to be here. All her efforts were down the drain when she spotted Y/N walking towards them, she was fixing the hem of her dress, not paying attention when she stopped behind Aemond.

“If next time the line is that big, I’ll pee on the bushes outside.” Y/N looked up, smiling openly at Helaena, who looked even paler than she already was. Aemond went completely still, his head turned to the side, that voice was weirdly familiar. Her hair was a bit smaller than he remembered, and she had definitely grown up, her features didn’t have the softness of the early teen years, her features were a little bit sharper now. She was wearing a tight, mini black dress, with long sleeves and a slit on the left thigh, her soft skin exposed for him, lace adorned the edges of her dress, and she was wearing combat boots, making her look slightly taller than he remembered.

“You’re back.” He said, more to convince himself than anything else. She finally noticed him, her smile faltering as she took him in, just as handsome as he had ever been, Her breath got caught in her throat and she felt like a little girl again, stealing glances at him whenever she could and blushing when he caught her staring. 

She didn’t say a thing before turning her back and swaying her hips away from him, Helaena following right after with the two cups in her hands. All those years ago, he had mistaken her affection for pure pity for what happened to him, as she saw the whole thing happen firsthand. He knew he was a dick to her back then, but ever since he learned that she was moving away and he wouldn’t have a chance to apologize, he regretted his actions, every fucking day.

He, however, wouldn’t miss the chance now, so he waited for his cue, keeping a close eye on her and Helaena all night, when they split, Y/N went upstairs, he followed after her, spotting her entering the bathroom, he rushed, putting his hand in between the door to keep her from closing it.

“What the fuck Aemond?” She angrily replied.

“I need to talk to you.” He pleaded and she sighed, annoyed.

“If you didn’t notice, it’s not a good time.” She gestured around, but he didn't move. “Alright, wait for me here and we’ll find somewhere to talk, just let me pee, please.” He smiled at her, noticing how her cheeks reddened and she closed the door. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“So?” She said, standing close to the locked door, they had managed to find an empty room and he had dragged her straight in. 

“I wanted to apologize.” He said, and she looked at him surprised. “I should’ve never treated you the way I did, I felt like an idiot for all those years.” She blinked, a couple of tears filling her eyes.

“I liked you, back then, but I never wanted anything more than to be your friend, but you didn’t even allow me that, did you?” He knew she had all the right to be angry at him, but he wasn’t going to give up.

“I know I wronged you, there isn’t a day that I wasn’t reminded of that, you tried to give me your heart and I was a fool to refuse.” He spoke honestly.

“You didn’t even know I existed, didn't even recognized me as a person, so cut the crap, cuz I know that you would do the same again if you had the chance.” He walked closer to her, so close that their chest was touching, and his hand cupped her cheek.

“If I could go back in time, I would punch myself for being an idiot and let you walk away from me.” He said, his head leaning so close to her, his smell so intoxicating that she closed the gap, capturing his soft lips in a searing kiss. His hand roamed around her frame, squeezing her ass. 

Aemond gave her an impulse, making her jump on his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist as he walked backward, sitting on the bed while she straddled him. They made out until they were gasping for air. As she took a deep breath, his lips kissed the skin on her collarbone, leaving some purple marks as he went on. 

She moved her hips on the growing bulge in his pants, breathing heavily when he pulled her dress down, springing her breasts free and taking one into his mouth while he palmed the other. As her body slightly got up and her hands found the buttons of his pants he stopped his ministrations, looking at her with a half-open eye. 

“Are you sure?” He forced himself to ask, afraid he had forced her to do it.

“Positive, sir.” He liked how she spoke, her voice slow and impatient. He nodded and she kept opening his pants, freeing his cock and pushing her panties to the side before she sunk on top of him, taking him in her soaking cunt.

They both moaned with relief, one of his hands found her hips, guiding her movements while hers grabbed the band of his patch, pushing it up, revealing the beautiful sapphire placed there. Aemond held her still for a second.

“It was never pity, it was all out of love.” She whispered, looking at him in the eyes, before kissing the extension of his scar. He almost sobbed, pushing her hips to resume her movements. She bounced on his cock as he sucked her neck, hands clutched to his hair. He slid one hand in between them, playing with her bundle of nerves, nearing her orgasm, she moaned loudly, the music outside muffling her sound. 

The knot in her belly grew until she couldn’t bear it anymore, coming with a cry of his name, feeling the bliss as he came right after, filling her to the brim until his seed was leaking from her and straight back to him.

“I’m on the pill.” She warned, her red face looking adorable, he took her in his hands, kissing her on the lips once again. “What do we do now?” Her big eyes met his.

“We clean up, go downstairs cuz Helaena must be freaking out, then we tell her that we’re together, how about that?” She looked at him.

“Sounds great to me.” She answered, kissing him again. 

#prince aemond #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fic #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #house of the dragon aemond #moonlightazriel #aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond smut #aemond one shot #aemond one eye #aemond taragryen smut #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #ewan mitchell #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #x reader #modern aemond #modern aegon

[megalony]

Perfectly Inadequate

This is a new Aemond Targaryen idea that I'm hoping to make into a series. Any feedback is always amazing.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

Masterlist

Summary: Aemond loves (Y/n), his youngest sister, more than anyone and won't stop trying to change Alicent's mind on betrothing them. After all, he knows (Y/n)'s secret that their mother is desperate to keep hidden and he can look after her better than anyone else ever could.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The palace was calmer at night. All of the hustle and bustle died out when the sun began to dissipate behind the clouds and when the frozen corridors were basking in a dim orange glow, everything felt different. The atmosphere shifted in the dark but instead of becoming gloomy and worrisome, it became peaceful and ideal.

(Y/n) liked it when the darkness rolled in, she liked to be out when the sun disappeared and she could watch from the shadows and bask in their confines.

Deep down, she knew she probably got her love of the dark from Aemond. Her elder brother cast himself into the darkness after his accident and from then on, it became a comfort to him. He loved to roam the palace at night and sneak out of his chambers and go for a wander. Sometimes he would go to the roof to watch the stars and count them in the vast midnight sky and sometimes he would go down to visit Vhagar when he was feeling especially lonesome or blue. She would always brighten his mood.

(Y/n) had grown up following her big brother around, it was why so many people, family and servants included, called her Aemond's little shadow because that was essentially what (Y/n) was when growing up. She wasn't so much a princess as she was a follower. Wherever Aemond went, (Y/n) went too and neither of them would have it any other way.

It was far too entertaining to watch Aemond practise his swordsmanship and (Y/n) could never take her eyes off him. The few times he would have a small battle with (Y/n), she always lost because she concentrated on studying his features far too much to realise he was besting her in a duel.

With the thought of Aemond at the front of her mind, (Y/n) tightened her shawl around her shoulders and ventured out of her room and down the long corridor.

Sleep was evading her tonight so a long walk around the Red Keep, and maybe the gardens too, was in order.

Part of (Y/n) wished she was still a child, she wished she was one and ten to find Aemond knocking lightly on her chamber door to sneak her out to stargaze. Everything seemed simpler when they were little. Now they were older, it wasn't proper to scout Aemond out in the middle of the night and go out at night. It wouldn't be good if (Y/n) tried to enter Aemond's room or if he came knocking on her door and entered her room, something he hadn't done in many moons.

When their mother caught Aemond in (Y/n)'s bed one morning a few years ago, she had gone blind with rage. It was innocent enough, nothing had happened except (Y/n) being unable to sleep and Aemond staying with her until she did, and both of them sleeping in past their usual time.

She scolded them, it wasn't appropriate when they weren't betrothed to one another and when Aemond was in the sprite of his teens.

A noticeable slouch set in (Y/n)'s shoulders from her impending thoughts but she tried to push them aside. Rounding the corner, (Y/n) crept down the stairs and out onto a new hallway, lit only by two flames at least ten feet apart.

Three feet down the hallway, (Y/n) could feel a headache forming behind her eyes and igniting the back of her head and down the base of her neck.

After another five or so feet, (Y/n)'s whole frame went rigid up against the wall as an icicle of fear pierced her heart. A figure loomed from the adjoining hallway like a spectre roaming the halls and it moved so swiftly and fast that (Y/n) could barely see their feet moving, it was as if they were gliding on air.

"Little Dragon, what are you doing this late at night?"

A noticeable sigh passed her lips and her frame relaxed like melting candle wax the moment that rugged voice hit her ears.

When the tall frame got closer, she could see the outlines more clearly. The tense, high shoulders hidden beneath the raven black cape. The small circle of violet around the one good eye clearing through the darkness towards her. Those high cheekbones coming to light beneath the flames lighting the long hallway and of course, the clenched hands resting at his sides.

Aemond.

The very one who had been at the forefront of her mind was now standing before her. His lips were pursed out and as budding as a rose, it was a look that almost resembled a smile, there was the tiniest crack at the side of his lips like he was about to smirk but held it back. And the way his head dropped to the left like he was hanging from a noose made (Y/n) shiver down to her toes.

"I could ask you the same thing, brother." (Y/n) could see he had to have left the Keep if he was wearing his cloak and had his hair tucked into the back of his tunic to keep himself hidden and inconspicuous. She could also guess that he had a dagger or a sword strapped to his right hip.

"Taking a midnight stroll, now where are you going?"

(Y/n) watched with something Aemond thought was close to admiration as he pulled down the hood on his cloak, revealing his silver hair that glistened with shimmers of gold in the candle light. And the eye patch he rarely took off unless he was in her presence and her presence alone.

"I couldn't sleep so I decided to take a walk,"

"After you then."

A soft smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she watched Aemond hold his hand out, signalling for her to go ahead and he would follow. He wasn't the least bit tired yet anyway and he didn't want to be responsible for letting his little sister wander the halls at night and something happen to her. That would be all on him.

Neither of them knew where they were heading or what their destination was, but they found comfort in the silence that wrapped around them. (Y/n) could feel her headache pulsing through her blood but it wasn't as bad when she felt Aemond's arm bumping against hers beneath the cloak. Standing so close to his tall figure always made (Y/n) feel protected and safe.

Aemond let his eye cast down to glance over at (Y/n) every now and then as they walked. He liked the way she held her hands together in front of her waist like she was a bridesmaid holding a bouquet of flowers. And he liked the way her sparkling white hair curled in ringlets around her ears, even with half of it still pinned to the back of her head.

He found himself becoming lost when he looked at (Y/n), sometimes Aemond wondered if he looked at her for too long he might become lost forever.

The spell (Y/n) cast over him started to break when he watched her steps start to falter and become slower than his, causing him to hang back to let her catch up. But it was when her hand curled around his bicep like a viper's grip that stopped Aemond in his tracks and sent a shiver bolting up his spine.

"What is it, what's wrong?"

When the seconds ticked by and (Y/n) didn't answer him, Aemond swept his eye around the deserted hallway before he moved to stand in front of (Y/n), noticing that her hand stayed gripped around his arm as he did so.

Moving his hands, Aemond carefully snaked his fingers along (Y/n)'s jaw and up until he could cup her face in his hands and tilt her head up so they were looking at one another. A deep sigh rattled past his pursed lips when he saw her pupils; they were blown wide like rock pools and her neck muscles were so tense they were popping through her skin. The subtle but noticeable shaking that seeped through (Y/n)'s system made Aemond growl deep in his chest.

She was having one of her spells.

"Alright, little dragon, I've got you." Aemond lowered his arm that (Y/n) was gripping until his hand ghosted down her waist and he could grip her hip through her dress. His other hand stayed firmly against her cheek and he tilted his head down to kiss her temple.

There was nothing Aemond could do but wait for the spell to pass, that was what the Maesters had always told them.

Neither him, Aegon or Helaenahad the bout of spells and fits that (Y/n) suffered constantly since she was ten and one and the Maesters could not understand why it only affected her or why she had them. Nothing seemed to trigger her spells, they didn't happen because she fell or hurt herself or when she was scared or worked up. They just appeared out of nowhere like shooting stars racing across the sky.

Aemond didn't like (Y/n) suffering these spells, mostly because he could do nothing to alleviate or stop them or make it easier for his little sister. They weren't under his control and he didn't like that.

At least this kind of spell was easier to handle, if she had to suffer them, Aemond wished it could always be ones like this. Ones where her body tensed and sometimes trembled, but stayed relatively motionless and came back to her control after only a few moments.

He hated the other ones she suffered, the ones nobody in the Seven Kingdoms knew about.

They were horrible. Aemond had watched his sister thrash about on the floor, legs kicking, arms violently shaking and bashing into anything and everything. Her head would bash into the floor, her body would spasm and shake and rivot around like she was being beaten to a pulp by an invisible threat Aemond couldn't fight off for her. He had watched her suddenly go into one of her spells and collide her temple with the stone fireplace which required five stitches. He'd seen her bite her tongue so hard a river of blood seeped onto the floor and through his knees when he tried in vain to help.

And there was nothing Aemond could do to help her.

When the shaking started to subside, Aemond began to rub his hand up and down (Y/n)'s waist while he steadied his breathing, slowing each breath that fanned against her temple he was longingly kissing.

"A-Aemond…?"

"I'm here," An ache began to spread through his arm when (Y/n) finally loosened her tight grip she didn't realise she had on him but her fingertips still hovered on his bruised arm.

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't apologise for what you can't control, can you still walk?" He was fairly certain she would be fine on her feet but he knew sometimes (Y/n)'s muscles would tense and lock up or she became too disorientated to move.

"Yes, where are we going?" (Y/n) buried her face into Aemond's firm chest when he swept an arm around her waist beneath her shawl and slowly started guiding her down the hallway. She coiled her arms around his slim torso and let him take control, steering her this way and that, clearly with a destination in his mind.

"Back to my chamber, of course."

"But mother said-"

"Do you believe I'm going to leave you alone after one of your spells? You can spend the night with me, mother won't find out."

There was no way that Aemond was going to take (Y/n) back to her own room after seeing her have one of her spells. Another one could come on just as easily and last a lot longer and he didn't want the risk of her being alone if that happened. Their mother wouldn't find out anyway, he could smuggle (Y/n) back to her own room before dawn approached and no one would be any the wiser. And it wasn't like they were doing anything wrong; not like Aemond had been desperate to since before their mother caught them in bed together the last time.

It was all Aemond could think about and imagine when he got (Y/n) back to his chamber without anyone noticing.

Every ounce of self control in his body went into stopping himself from advancing on (Y/n) when he watched her undress with lustful eyes until she was in her thin night gown beneath her dress.

All of the things he wanted to do to her flashed before his eye to the point he was ripping the leather from his body to speed up the process.

It didn't help matters when he laid down in bed beside her. Feeling (Y/n) so close to him beneath the sheets, feeling every inch of her skin on him with a mere gown and his shorts separating them from being skin to skin with one another. It was as torturous as it was invigorating. He was sure she must have noticed how tense he felt when she laid her chin on his chest and stared up at him with those doe eyes that were drowning and out of focus.

She didn't know what effect she had on him when she dragged her finger over his cheekbone and around his scar now that his eye patch was off for the night. Nor did she seem to realise that being pressed up against his chest and abdomen like this meant that he could feel her breasts pressed into him and her heartbeat that was pulsing through his skin.

"I've missed this,"

Oh, she had no idea how much Aemond had missed it too, but for vastly different reasons.

If she didn't have her spells, Aemond would most probably have been able to convince their mother to betrothe them by now. He knew since he was three and ten that (Y/n) was the one for him, the one he wanted and desperately desired to be with. There was no one else out there that could compete with his sweet (Y/n) and he was determined to get his mother to see that too.

Aemond knew why they hadn't been betrothed. Aegon was married to Haelena, it wasn't an ideal match, they didn't want to be together and they had no connection, not like Aemond and (Y/n). But it meant that other choices were being searched for, other high connections to spread the Targaryen name. Good matches to other noble families, that was what was waiting for (Y/n) and Aemond.

He also knew the other reason was of (Y/n)'s spells. Nobody else in the Kingdom knew about it, not even their father the King knew, that was how well their mother had hidden the secret.

If noblemen found out that the Princess (Y/n) had a condition the maesters couldn't name nor cure, no one would want to be betrothed to her. She would be a risk, a liability and Alicent was desperate to stop that from happening. Telling no one seemed easier until they could find a way to control it but if people found out, life would only get harder for (Y/n) and if she passed it down to any offspring, she would be at the mercy of many people and deemed as damaged.

With a deep growl masked as a sigh, Aemond kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head before he hooked his arm around her waist to keep her in place against his chest, where he knew she belonged.

If only their mother could see things from his point of view.

Aemond loved (Y/n) to the end of the Earth, he would do anything for her all she had to do was ask and it shall be done. He didn't care about her spells, he would always love her and look after her and protect her. That was what mattered, he could keep her and her secret safe.

He had looked after her all her life so far, hadn't he?

Something burned deep in Aemond's chest when he felt (Y/n)'s lips feathering against his sternum. Did she know what she was doing? Did she know what reaction she was getting from him?

He could of screamed when she kissed his neck, keeping (Y/n) this close the whole night was going to take all the will power and strength Aemond had within him. But if she kept kissing him so sweet and innocently like this, he wasn't going to last five minutes, let alone the rest of the night.

A squeak bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips when Aemond's arm that was around her waist suddenly tightened before he rolled her over onto her back and laid on top of her, shifting their positions in less than a second.

His head tucked into the crook of her neck and (Y/n) could feel his hair splayed out on her chest, tickling her skin. She smiled to herself when his leg wedged itself between her thighs and he burrowed down on top of her, clearly tired and getting comfy.

When she tried to card her fingers through the ends of his hair, all the air got stuck at the back of her throat when his fingers curled around her wrist. In less than a second, her hand was pinned down to the pillow beside her head and her stomach twisted in painful pleasure when Aemond growled into her neck. He always used to love it when she would run her hand through his hair, he said it was calming and it always used to help him sleep.

"Sleep, little dragon."

With a huff, (Y/n) kissed the top of Aemond's head before she closed her eyes and tried to do as she was told.

With his head burrowed into her neck, Aemond could feel her heartbeat calming down and the rise and fall of her chest beneath him started to soften and it made him want to smile. (Y/n), his little sister, his girl, wrapped up in his arms, where she belonged.

He could remember the first time she had experienced a spell; he had been with her when it happened.

Up until she was ten and one, nothing like it had ever happened and none of them were ever drastically ill as children. (Y/n) had followed Aemond down to visit Vhagar and he had promised to take her for a ride, he thanked every star in the sky that he didn't in the end, he dared not think what would have happened if he did.

They had been down with Vhagar all of five minutes before (Y/n) suddenly crashed into him and took them both down to the floor. Aemond had vowed to himself never to cry since his accident which lost him his eye, but he had shed more than one tear when he stared down at his little sister thrashing across the floor. He could still see the whites of her eyes when they rolled to the back of her sweet little head and the amount of twigs and thistles and bits of dirt that got stuck in her tangled hair when she rolled around.

Every part of (Y/n) that could move had moved, her arms thrashed, her legs tensed and kicked and twinged. Her head was violent, going from side to side and bashing back into the floor enough to give her a concussion. But it was the foam froffing past her lips that made Aemond cry and the fact that he could do nothing but watch, fearing his little sister was being possessed by something horrid.

He had screamed for help, sent guards to fetch his mother but by the time she arrived, (Y/n) had become motionless on the ground.

The guards wouldn't allow Aemond to carry her up to her room, no matter how hard he tried or how many times he screamed and kicked at them to let her go. And when they shut him out of her room, Aemond all but thrashed the door down.

It had taken until the Maesters were fetched for (Y/n) to wake up and when she started to sob for Aemond, they had no choice but to let him in.

Aemond shook his head to rid himself of the horrid memory he knew he would never forget. He needed to sleep. He was tired after all, wandering the streets after dark was enough to wipe out the excess energy he felt earlier but being wrapped around (Y/n) built up a different kind of energy within him that he couldn't control. He needed to sleep, he desperately needed to sleep so he could wake up before anyone noticed (Y/n) wasn't in her room. And before he did something he shouldn't to the girl wrapped up in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crossing one leg over the other, Aemond leaned back in his chair and reached out for the glass resting on the table beside him. He could feel his back and the base of his neck clicking into place when he pushed back in the chair and tilted his head over the back of the chair.

It was a tempting thought to go wandering the streets again like he had done a few nights ago. When he was in moods such as these where nothing would satisfy him and his energy was peaked, he couldn't rest like everyone else. The rest of the family had retired to their rooms and would be settling down for the night but Aemond could never quite do that.

He never slept long enough to retire to bed early and if he stayed up he would turn into Aegon, drinking himself into oblivion deep into the night.

He needed something to occupy himself other than the thought of going to find (Y/n). Something which was forbidden to him.

When the last remnants of wine were drained from his glass, Aemond uncrossed his legs and stooped over. His elbows rested on his knees and his fingers carded through his straight locks of hair and hovered over the strap of his eyepatch. He was about to take it off when a soft but rapid knock at the door caught him by surprise.

It was even more surprising when he lifted his head and saw Helaena appearing round the door. She barged open the door in less than a second and glided across the floor, leaving the door wide open behind her in her haste to reach her brother. It made him uneasy when he watched her kneel at his side next to the chair he was sitting in. But when she placed her shaking hands on his knee, he knew something was wrong and he stopped himself from pouring another glass of wine.

"What's happened?" It was evident in her face that something was amiss but Aemond didn't dare try and guess what was wrong.

"It's (Y/n)…"

That was all Helaena needed to say to set off the alarm bells ringing in her brother's mind. She could see the darkness that swept across his face and the churning colours that came to life in his eye. His legs tensed next to her, his hands curled into fists on his lap and his biceps strained against the black leather he was wearing.

"Where is she?" Aemond was about to burst to life and jump into action if his sister hadn't of moved her hands to his shoulders to make him stay seated. He couldn't be running off when he didn't know what was wrong.

"Mother went to see her since she missed supper, she was having a bad spell and it wouldn't stop. She told me to come get you… she's called the Maesters."

This time when Aemond went to stand, his sister didn't stop him. She got to her feet, smoothed down the creases in her dress and followed after Aemond when he bolted from the room.

Helaena knew it was bad when her mother had ordered someone to call for the Maesters. Alicent hardly ever did that, not since the spells became more frequent and none of the Maesters knew what the problem was or how to help. Helaena herself had only witnessed one or two of her sister's spells and they had been short and vacant, nothing on the scale of what she had heard her mother and brother talking about.

But when she peered into her sister's room to see what the commotion was, she saw her younger sister curled up on the floor with their mother holding onto her, trying to stop the spell to no avail.

And Helaena knew how protective Aemond was of their family, especially (Y/n). If she had a bad spell, he was always there by her side and when her mother shouted at her to go and fetch Aemond, Helaena ran. Gods forbid anyone didn't tell him something like this had happened and he found out second hand hours later, there would be a big price to pay.

It didn't take long for the prince to storm down the halls and make his way to the chambers he visited almost every day when growing up. He could hear the chaos from the other end of the corridor.

The sight Aemond walked into was one he was familiar with but one he did not like.

(Y/n), his little sister was laid contorted on the floor with her arms bound trembling to her chest and her whole body fluttering back and forth. But it was the blood pooling and froffing from her lips that made Aemond pale significantly. Alicent had rolled her onto her side and was laid half over (Y/n), holding onto her and keeping her as still as she could, waiting for the spell to pass.

The moment she locked eyes with Aemond, a rush of relief flooded onto her face.

Aemond didn't like the look of the two Maesters stood near the bed. They had viles, bowls and cups scattered around on the chest of drawers beside the bed but Aemond didn't want them here. They caused more harm than good when (Y/n) was concerned.

"Aemond, I- I think it's stopping. Help me get her on the bed."

He crouched down on (Y/n)'s other side opposite his mother but up close, he could see the strain on her face and how her copper hair was unfolding and coming loose from her plats. She had been struggling.

Aemond curled over until his chest was pressing on his bent knees and he reached his hands out to cup (Y/n)'s face. He could see her eyes shaking behind her eyelids and her breaths were raspy and bubbling from the blood welling in her mouth from her tongue. When he hooked his thumb beneath her upper lip and lifted it up, he could see her teeth were chomped down on her tongue.

His mother had been right, the jerking movements were coming to a stop, replaced by a slow shaking that rattled throughout her body but it was preferrable to the spasms.

He waited for his mother to pull away and watched her sit back on her heels and take deep breaths while she brushed her hair out of her eyes. When she moved, Aemond carefully slipped his arms beneath (Y/n)'s broken form and ground his jaw when he lifted her up into his arms. He could feel her trembling vibrating through into him and it made his knees feel like they were about to give way.

Why did this have to happen to (Y/n), his sweet girl?

He was careful when he pushed his knees into the bed and lowered (Y/n) down on top of the sheets he had admittedly slept beneath last night when he snook into her room.

He swallowed down a burning growl hiding in his chest before he pulled back enough to strip the sword belt from his hips and take off the jacket that now felt too constricting before he sat back on the bed beside (Y/n) and his mother sat on the opposite side.

A look passed between mother and son before Alicent sighed and moved away to stand up when it was clear one of them had to move for the Maesters to assess (Y/n).

And it certainly wasn't going to be Aemond.

"Come here," He quietly tutted while he took (Y/n)'s chin between his fingers and tilted her head towards him while the Maester busied himself taking some of her blood.

With a damp cloth in hand, curtesy of the Maester behind him, Aemond busied himself wiping the blood from her face and parting her lips with his thumb to check that she wasn't still clamping her teeth down on her tongue. He couldn't have that in case her tongue became swollen and she couldn't breathe properly. Not to mention the pain she was going to feel soon.

"A-Aem…"

"I'm here, it's me Princess."

Shivers bolted up his arm when (Y/n)'s hand clamped down on his wrist and her head moved towards his voice. She wanted to be closer to him, she wanted to touch him and be soothed by his touch and his skin and she wanted to keep hearing his voice whispering in her ear.

Heeding to her silent command, Aemond inched closer until (Y/n)'s temple was pressed into his bare chest just beneath his sternum and he could lean down to kiss the top of her head. He ignored the burning intensity of his mother's stare because he knew what she would be thinking.

But at the same time, she had called for him. His mother had told Helaena to find him because deep down she knew he would be more help to (Y/n) than the Maesters ever would be. She knew he would calm her down and soothe her and look after her, she knew (Y/n) wouldn't settle unless Aemond was by her side and Alicent had given in. In her moment of panic, she had given in and called for Aemond.

"Here M'lady, drink some of this,"

One of the men pressed a cup to (Y/n)'s parted lips and nudged her, inclining her to take a large sip but when she did, she coughed. It was a foul taste and a horrid smell she recognised far too well. The whimper that passed her lips made Aemond tense beside her and his gaze shot to glare at the man opposite him.

"What is it?"

"Milk of the poppy, sir, to stop any more fits. Drink some more,"

"And you think drugging her will stop them? Mother please,"

Aemond turned his attention to Alicent but the way she tightened her hands in front of her and inclined her head made him angry.

How could they believe this was helpful? It was a herbal remedy, something used when someone was in pain and it would often make (Y/n) sleep whenever she was given it. Dosing her up to sleep was not the answer to stopping the spells that plagued her constantly. They couldn't keep her on the milk of the poppy forever, it wouldn't work.

"Just a little, Aemond, she needs rest and it will make her feel better." Alicent's word was final, just as it always had been and Aemond didn't have the strength to argue with her when he felt (Y/n)'s hands clawing at his skin, desperate for his loving attention.

(Y/n) did as she was told but once she'd choked down half the cup, she shook her head and burrowed deeper into Aemond's bare chest. She couldn't force down any more of the horrid concoction that would make her sleep and turn her head into mush. She hated it, she hated them trying to give her that horrible white remedy.

"Shh, sleep now, Little Dragon. I'll be here when you wake up."

#aemond imagine #aemond x you #aemond #aemond targaryen #imagine #aemond x reader #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon

[daenerysies]

someone sent me an anon ask about the anti rhaenyra agenda most rhaenicent shippers have and like a dumbass i accidently deleted it so i'm just going to try my best to re-answer it here (yes i wrote a whole spiel about it and now it's gone forever and i'm upset.)

from what i can tell there are only two reasons as to why people can't stand rhaenyra but love rhaenicent; and it's because they either have some heavy internalized misogyny OR that's the only way to continue and keep their uwu sad lesbian alicent headcanons semi-tethered in reality. alicent is a character that has next to no positive interactions with other characters, least of all any women. she has a 'good' (and i say that lightly) relationship with rhaenyra for 2 episodes in hotd, and then they are adversaries for the rest of the show. the only other women we see her interact with are helaena and her lady in waiting talya ( who regularly spied on her for mysaria) and minus talya, those are the same female relationships she has in f&b. she doesn't really have a good track record with anyone.

in the book she terrorized rhaenyra from aegon's birth up until rhaenyra's death. rather than teaching her son to rule and raising him to be an upstanding prince of the realm she instead spent her time calling rhaenyra, a literal child, a slut, she accepted criston into her service as her own personal protector in spite of his predatory behavior towards rhaenyra (which she acknowledges), and continuously tries to have rhaenyra and her sons disinherited and killed due to her own spreading of the bastard rumors. not to mention that she was eighteen when she married viserys to rhaenyra's nine. there's really nothing romantic about it. in the show almost everything is still the same except for her being the one to arrange helaena's marriage to her known degenerate and rapist son (in f&b viserys is the one who had them marry) and most likely told her the same rhetoric of rhaenyra killing them to secure her claim that she told her sons from when they were babies up until the coup. with rhaenyra she still antagonizes her because she (lemme check again, told alicent she didn't sleep with daemon and got otto fired because he was working against the crown to install his grandson as heir over her). don't even get me started on the villainization of rhaenyra in order to uphold alicent's constant victimization storyline. alicent is the one who abused rhaenyra, not the other way around, and the age changes in the show (which are so stupid omg) only serve to make alicent more sympathetic and rhaenyra an apparent privileged brat who doesn't understand what it's like to suffer because of the men in her life and therefore deserves her fate (i can literally see the entire galaxy with how far back my eyes are rolled rn.)

if the show wanted to include or focus on two women who were torn apart by the patriarchy and the men around them, helaena's blank character was right there for the taking (and would've been even juicier with the sister vs sister, queen consort vs queen regnant debacle.) she has no personality in the book or any relevance besides losing her children in violent ways and going mad, they definitely could have made her a more present character on screen in a manner that adds an actual emotional connection to her but alas, rhaenicent is top priority. furthering that, if the show wanted to include queer representation with their leading lady, laena had more hints in the text for that type of relationship than anything the show has given us for the rhaenyra/alicent dynamic, even with how hard they're trying to force it down our throats.

the entire relationship has made the story go completely off kilter because the show won't just let it be, and it's affected almost all of their other relationships. they're not going to convince me that rhaenyra cares about alicent more than her own children or even vice versa (though in an entirely different manner) and that reconciliation is possible in spite of aemond murdering luke. it makes both the characters and the writers look like delusional idiots. there's absolutely no reason for these types of glaring mistakes in a series where characterization and the relationships that revolve from them are the reason it's so popular amongst the masses. this lack of proper relationship building has caused hotd to feel a lot more shallow and lackluster than what you'd expect with how massive it's budget was when they created it, the amount of talented actors they casted, and the literal blueprint laid out of what not to do that got season eight is. someone should have taken accountability for these dumb decisions and realized how quickly they're streamlining straight towards what ruined game of thrones in the first place.

#f&b #hotd #hotd critical #rhaenyra targaryen #pro rhaenyra #helaena targaryen #laena velaryon #anti alicent hightower #anti criston cole #anti aegon ii targaryen #anti viserys i targaryen #anti rhaenicent #faye answers #anonymous #whoever you are i'm sorry