#house of dragons au

[hiatuswhore]

The Game — Aegon II Au

♡ A/N: Something I’ve been playing around with. Someone teach me how to write smut lol. This is currently just a one-shot and unedited so bare with me. Please give me feedback, I’m begging for it.

♡ SUMMARY: Just another fake dating PR stunt. Your job, fix the bad boys image. Easy right, not if Aegon Targaryen can help it.

♡ WORD COUNT: 1.7K

♡ WARNING: Harsh Language

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“What was it like when you first met?”

You smile politely at the question, not a single hair sitting out of place. The gaudy camera pointing at the two of you gleaming. Aegon wets his lips grinning to himself at the passing thought. The interviewer looks between the two of you, and the question lingers in the air.

“You want to take this one?” Aegon asks, looking at you with a fond glint. At least that’s what the camera sees, just as it sees how you bashfully look away from him and toward the interviewer.

“We met by a complete accident,” Your smile beaming as you recall signing up for high pay, low stakes acting gig. Even during the phone interview you were certain it was a load of crap. “A friend of mine who works at Westeros Incorporated forgot some of their work and asked me to run it over.”

“She comes in wearing these joggers and hoodie, in a building where all the suits look the same. I couldn’t stop looking at her she was all confused and clearly out of place. It was absolutely adorable,” A thrift store hobbit, that is what he had described your leisure wear the first day you had met. His mother, Alicent had nonstop scolded him as his sister Helaena offered a kind smile and his brother Aemond pretended as though you were not in the room.

“(Y/n) as you likely know Aegon Targaryen has been deemed the bad boy in the press. Hook ups, parties, fights. Tell us about the Aegon Targaryen you know,” Behind the camera crew stands Aegon’s mother and grandfather, Otto. Otto had been the final part of the hiring process. You were invited to the Targaryen Estate, not home—a fucking estate. There you met all of the family. No one had acknowledged your presence, only when Otto called you into his office did all eyes fall onto you. In there you signed never ending stacks of papers from Nondisclosure agreements to medical information releases.

If the checks were not so dizzyingly high and the contracts signed were not so nauseatingly terrifying your answers would likely be different. The Aegon Targaryen I know is a lazy narcissistic asshole who is, “so misrepresented in the media. The Aegon I know is nothing but kind and dedicated to whatever he puts his mind to. He just tends to put his mind to some not so productive things as times.”

You turn to Aegon, leaning closer him as you smile. The interviewers awes softly as Aegon kisses your temple and you both turn your focus back onto the journalist. You both leave the interview hand and hand, all giddy smiles and sunny dispositions until the cameras gone, the doors shut, and prying eyes leave the vicinity.

Ripping your hand out of his you cross your arms in front of you, glaring daggers at the roll of his eyes, “We didn’t say anything about kissing my temple.”

“Kind and dedicated. Might as well have tattooed we’re lying on our forehead. Since the way you dress was not obvious enough,” Aegon scoffs. Before you can get another word out Otto speaks sharply.

“Enough. Good job you two. (Y/n) for Aegon’s birthday we’re going to the lakehouse. We’re going to take the boat out on Blackwater, paparazzi always capture photos for that so we’re sending over some tasteful bathing suit options,” Otto explains sternly, nodding your head quietly you roll your eyes as Aegon huffs.

“I’m supposed to be partying in Dorne for my birthday!” Aegon whines. Otto dismisses, without skipping a beat you grab your bag leaving the conference room. You take the elevator to the second floor of Westeros Inc before taking the private elevator to the discreet door. Pulling your hood up you walk flagging down a cab.

Arriving to your new apartment the manicured trim of the walls and marble counter tops still knot your stomach. Before the ink dried on the paperwork Otto had you sign, you had a new set of keys and a paycheck with more commas than you had ever seen before. New money, new apartment, new boyfriend.

Scarily enough there it was, several shopping bags on your couch. The bathing suits. Your schedule for the day empty you turn on some music, digging into the bags trying on the bathing suits. The black one piece accentuating curves with a snug hold on your body. Pulling coils of hair into a ponytail you clasp your gold snake necklace while taking a look into your living room mirror. Taking out your phone you play around with a few different poses before your front door swings open. Aegon walks in texting away on his phone as he stops in the kitchen, he grabs one of your juices before sprawling out on the side of the couch without bags.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You exclaim, eyebrows knit while poorly shielding yourself behind the jeans you had been previously wearing. Aegon looks up from his phone, his eyes trace up your legs before meeting your gaze.

“Otto wants the leeches with cameras to see me coming over here. I promise I’d rather be anywhere else,” Aegon says, turning back to his phone.

“Do you ever tire of being an asshole?” Your questions earns chuckle, Aegon focus stays on his phone as he says, no.

“Do you ever tire of complaining?” Aegon asks. You scoff gathering the bags before stomping off to your room. His bedroom door right across, oh right, the apartment stipulation. The nice Red Keep apartment will be yours to own, after the successful completion of your year long contract, fix Aegon’s image and the paychecks and assets flow. A therapist couldn’t help that egotistic narcissist.

You slam your door shut, dropping the bags to the floor you change into gym shorts and a t-shirt. Folding the bathing suits, you put them away. Sprawling our on your bed you let out a long sigh. Eyes closed you sink into the soft mattress, more cloud than bed.

The week passes with the regularly scheduled outings. Restaurants, museums, social events. At the Stark foundation Gala, you make small talk with Cregan Stark and his sister Sara. Out of most of the socialites you have met, you deem them the most normal. Cregan nods along most of the conversation as you and Sara complain about the media. Sara does most of the talking as you sip on some fancy wine you cannot pronounce.

“I’m obsessed with your dress, it’s designer right. Don’t tell me, Cersei Lannister,” Sara says, her eyes narrowed with a playful suspicious glint. The silk dress hugs slightly at the hips as it stops at your mid-lower thigh. Your back completely exposed, biting the inside of your cheek you cannot help but notice how Cregan’s eyes outline your body. The elder Stark towers over, his gaze intense but compelling. From the moment you and Aegon arrived, Aegon disappeared and you found yourself drifting closer and closer to the handsome Stark.

“Joffrey actually,” You says softly, chuckling as you smooth out the dress. Sara gasps, she takes out her phone texting away.

“That stylish cunt. I told him to tell me when his newest designs dropped,” Sara says, walking off with her phone pressed to ear you giggle shaking your head.

“All of this must be a bit weird for you,” It’s the first time Cregan’s spoke, his gruff voice sending a tingle through your body. You shift in place taking another sip of your wine.

“That your sister has a member of the biggest fashion designing family in the world on her phone. Or that their relationship is so casual she calls Joffrey Lannister a cunt the way I’d playfully insult my best friend?” You say, earning a chuckle. Cregan nods sipping his own wine, your eyes stay on each others a moment too long. The intense gaze sends your mind to all the wrong places. His hands large hands roaming, tall stature domineering, tongue d— “So how long is your contract with the Targaryens?”

You snap back to reality, Cregan still wears the same reserved look to his persona. Looking around the room, others still mingle without care. Cregan chuckles, “We socialites are all the same. I’ve known Aegon my entire life, this good guy for the right girl act is pretty dull.”

“So don’t watch then,” You scoff rolling your eyes you scan the room for Aegon. Cregan chuckles his demeanor never falters while he speaks cooly, “But I want to watch you.”

Cregan’s eyes look over your body shamelessly, “I want to watch you in that dress, out of that dress in all kinds of positions.”

Your mouth gapes as you process the words he says so casually. Before you can respond a hand wraps around your wrist, Aegon walks you to a back wall. A giant glass wall to your left and the rest of your party to your right. Aegon eyes are bloodshot and he reeks of tequila. He presses his body against yours, one hand on the wall above your head caging you in.

“You want to fuck the mutt be my guest but first we need to convince the press this is real,” Aegon says, licking his lip revealing the tongue piercing. His dainty silver chain shines in contrast to his all black suit, he looks undeniably good. The rasp of his voice captivating, and his narcissism irritatingly sexy. You take a deep breath bringing yourself back to reality.

“You’re drunk and I don’t know how dry humping me at a social event is going to help us,” You push off the wall looking down at your heels, you step left avoiding stepping on his shoes. The feeling of his fingers gripping your jaw pulls a light gasp from your lips.

“I’m not suddenly a fucking saint because of you. My grandfather said we have to convince the public, and they know me. The photographers outside can see into here, can see us,” Aegon says holding your face closer to his as he grins down at you. His other hands rubs on your outer thigh, lifting your leg from under your knee as he nestles between your legs. “Kinda like you like this, you’re sexy when you’re not talking.”

“Fuck you,” You whisper pulling your jaw out of his hand he captures your lips biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. The kiss steals your breath and the chuckle that leaves his lips vibrates through your chest to your core.

Aegon bites his bottom lip as he brings his thumb up tracing your lips. You furrow your eyebrows at him. The flashes in the distance confirms the photographers capture the moment from outside. Aegon interlaces your hand in his, before you step out of the building he smirks whispering into your ear, “Play the game Cinderella and you just might win.”

#aegon targaryen au #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon ii fic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #modern aegon #aemond targaryen #Aemond targaryen au #aemond targaryen imagine #house of dragons #house of dragons au #alicent hightower #Alicent Hightower imagine #otto hightower #Otto Hightower imagine #helaena targaryen #helaena targaryen imagine #rhaenyra targaryen au #daemon targaryen au #Rhaenyra targaryen imagine #Joffrey Lannister imagine #Cregan stark imagine #Cregan stark au #cersei lannister #Cersei Lannister au #game of thrones imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon au

[virgil-is-a-cutie]

....male!Rhaenyra marrying Alicent just makes me happier tbh

#jenny speaks #house of dragons au #house of dragons #male!rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower

[spookydollyart]

In honour of the return of house of the dragon 🫡

#art #i love my grandma #illustration #house of the dragon #hotd team green #hotd #hotd aemond #hotdvhagar #vhagar #aemond kinslayer #aemond targaryen #granny vhagar #visenya targaryen #hotd season 2 #hotd modern au #hotd meme

[bismutting]

modern au rhaenyra taking her gf to parties at uni. it goes pretty much as expected

#rhaenicent #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd #my art #house of the dragon #fanart #olivia cooke #emma d’arcy #modern au

[sansas-amythest-hairnet]

A quick portrait of an au where Sansa marries Willas and lives in Highgarden.

#asoiaf #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoif/got #asoiaf fanart #asoif fanart #house of the dragon #house stark #sansa stark #house tyrell #au #willas tyrell

[eraenaa]

Gold Rush

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader

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

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pinning, Jealousy ¿Simp Aemond?, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, P in V sex, Face Sitting, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 7, 912 (I may have overindulged) 

Beauty worth their weight in gold, and it’s the greatest blessing from the gods that you have both. The only child of Lord Lannister. Spoiled and sheltered, you had never known hardships or troubles. Pampered in the halls of Casterly Rock or anywhere you go. You leave a trail of mystification, enchantment, and adoration. Suitors line up and beg to pay you tribute. Songs and sonnets are made just to entertain and encapsulate the beauty and purity you have for centuries to come. Commoners and Lords offer their lands, riches, and allegiance just to have your hand, and now, a certain prince dared to join. 

When the words slipped out of your uncle’s lips that you should join your father in his visit to the capital, the Red Keep was abuzz with curiosity. The Golden Beauty of the realm shall grace their presence. They shall finally see and admire the being that has been coveted and praised for years. Prince Aegon was excited, to say in the least. He has been curious and titillated by your said charms ever since poets decided to write nothing about the allure and trance you placed upon men by just one look of your emerald eyes. His brother found it as a hoax. He frowned at how they exalt your name and praise you as if you were The Maiden Herself when, in reality, they only read or hear of you. He would scoff to himself every time his brother would reread the songs made in your name. He would roll his eye every time he heard gossip and talk about you from the maids and knights. He was certain that this popularity and recognition had only made you egotistical and vain— a judgment made and solidified in him despite not having known or met you. 

When the day of your arrival came, his older brother was the first to greet you, whilst Prince Aemond stood by the window and watched from afar. He frowned upon Aegon’s actions greatly, paying recognition to a girl whilst ignoring his wife, but alas, his brother could not be reasoned to nor be persuaded to do his duty. Aegon was always easily swayed and distracted by a pretty face, and with beauty such as yours, the queen’s first son had turned simple. Aemond rolled his eye as he stood by the balcony, watching his brother tour you through the gardens. Aegon displayed a beaming smile and an odd blush on his face as if he were the maiden and not yourself. You simply kept a small, pleasing grin on your lips as the eldest prince kept on speaking and offering you flattery and compliments, trying to ignore the feeling of a gaze following you ever since you entered the palace walls. 

You set your gaze above, catching the lone lilac eye of a second silver prince. You held his gaze, which showed contempt and agitation you did not know the reason for. When Prince Aegon had noticed your attention had shifted, he cast his eyes above only to see his brother with his brooding demeanor, almost scowling at the two of you. “That is only my bitter brother, Aemond. Pay him no mind, my lady,” Prince Aegon stated and offered his arm for you to take. Your eyes shifted between the two princes, quickly curtsying towards the one who stood above and the took hold of his brother’s arm before he hurriedly escorted you out of sight of the younger prince. 

You were soon introduced to the princess, the wife of the elder prince. The princess’ presence you then favored instead of her husband, who had a gown quite… touchy and clingy. You stood next to the princess, who introduced you to her adorable children, babes tugging at the hem of your gown and pleading with you with their big violet eyes to carry them. Your heart grew soft and took the little Prince Maelor into your arms, smiling widely as the babe clung to your neck and buried his adorable face into your hair. “My son has taken quite a liking to you… he is most fastidious to other’s presence, my lady,” The princess smiled. “He is simply adorable, Your Highness,” You say and brush the silver hair of the babe. “He is… he quite reminds me of my younger brother when we were children,” The princess mused, her voice afar with nostalgia. 

“Have you been introduced?” The princess then asked, “To whom?” You inquired, distracted by the babe who shifted in your arms. “To—Ah, Aemond! We were just talking about you,” the princess then exclaimed, the silver prince standing by the door. You turned your gaze to the prince you had not been introduced to yet formally. “Lady Lannister, my brother, Aemond,” The princess introduced, and you curtsied since more at the one-eyed prince while having his nephew in his arms. You hindered your frown as he said no word, only simply giving a nod and the action of his lips thinning. 

“I was just telling Lady Lannister how much Maelor resembles you when we were younger,” the princess smiled. You turned to the prince, who tried to give his sister a small smile but looked more like a grimace. “The young prince is quite charming,” You smiled and turned to the prince, who stood before you, stiff and brooding. Aemond clenched his jaw as his eye caught yours once more; you are not at all chaste nor demure in the presence of royalty as any young lady should ought to be. You were perfectly comfortable taking a member of the royal family into your arms as if you were equal in rank. Aemond seemed to stand uncorrected with his early judgment of you. 

“She is quite handsome… I always thought the songs they made were an exaggeration, but it seems to not do her justice,” Aemond heard his mother whisper to his sister, quite entranced by your beauty, and it would seem as would everyone present at the dinner table. Princess Helaena generously invited you to their intimate family dinner. His hand clenched around his chalice of wine as his brother shamelessly leaned closer to you and whispered something in your ear to cause a sweet, amused smile to play on your lips. “Are you not bothered by this?” Aemond could not help but as his sister. “About about what, brother?” Helaena asked, clueless and concerned by the agitated state of her younger brother. 

“Lady Lannister, we are most glad that you are finally here to accompany your father,” the queen said, not allowing Aemond to answer his sister’s query. “Thank you, your Majesty. You have all been so welcoming to my presence.” You smiled and could not help but let your gaze travel to the one-eyed prince, whose contempt had been nothing but plain and quite obvious. “Of course, the golden beauty of the realm is most welcome here indeed,” Aegon then chimed in. “But may I ask why it is only now that you join your father to the capitol?” The queen inquired; your gaze flew around the table, eyes expecting your answer, except for the lilac gaze of the younger prince, who stared steely and harshly at his plate. “Oh… it is because my father and uncle wishes for me to be acquainted with the court… for they are planning for me to marry soon, your Grace,” You said truthfully. That is when you feel a lone eye finally place itself upon your frame. 

The queen hummed and looked not at all shocked by your admittance; her children, however, shared different expressions from what you could read. The princess simply nodded with a ghost of a smile on her lips. The prince beside you seemed surprised and, dare you say, disappointed by your purpose of coming. And the prince across from you seemed… you could not decipher his reaction through his hard gaze. 

When morning came, you were pleased to receive an invitation from the princess to join her in the gardens to break your fast. You followed a squire, and you were led to a table surrounded by flowers and greenery, three children of the crown waiting for you. A pleasing princess and her brothers, one stoic, the other drunken. “Good morning, Your Highnesses,” You greeted and bowed, surprised as the young prince stood and matched your curtsy, moving to assist you to assist you to a seat across from him. You try not to over-analyze his actions; just hours before, he seemed disinterested in you— animosity was heavy around him. However, now, there seemed to be an air of civility surrounding him. 

“What are your engagements today, my lady?” Princess Helaena asked as she sipped on her tea, you stirred yours and replied. “My father was planning to introduce me to some of the members of the court,” You say and turn to acquire the last piece of candied lemon. “Some suitors?” The princess asked, her brothers not at all joining in the conversation, merely sitting around the two of you as if they were dolls. “I am not quite certain, princess,” You say and let your gaze travel to Prince Aemond, who stared at the candied lemon on your plate. 

“Do you have a favorite among them?” Prince Aegon then inquired; you frowned at his question. “I beg your pardon?” You asked for clarification. “Does any of your suitors hold great favor with you?” He said and took a chalice into his hand so early in the morning. “I have still yet to meet them, my prince… but I was told that Lord Arryn’s son was quite handsome, and many ladies of the court seem to favor him,” You answered but was turned to the princess, the topic seemingly more appropriate for the two of you. “Ah, yes, handsome Lord Henry,” Princess Helaena said in recognition, “It is true that he is comely. However, I heard he is one to wander,” The princess said delicately. Confusion painted your face once more, and it was the second prince who clarified, 

“Lord Henry is quietly known for his depravity,” Prince Aemond said, making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like our brother Aegon,” he added, smirking as that earned a giggle from his sister. “I think it would best if you stay far from the son of Lord Arryn,” The princess said, and you nodded along. 

You spent the day being introduced to Lords and Ladies of the Court, but more specifically, their sons. You felt the constant drone of a gaze following you as you conversed with the prospects of your hand. Their faces seemingly merged, and their names eluded you, so you could only offer them your pleasing smile and mindless small talk and keep your hand on their arm. 

“Do you not have to train, brother?” Helaena then appeared beside Aemond, who was hidden behind a pillar, as he observed you being acquainted with the eligible sons of the court. Helaena held a cheeky smile as she caught his brother’s actions. You had only arrived yesterday, and the princess was already certain that you had caught the attention of her enigmatic brother. It was plain to her the attraction and curiosity Aemond harbored for the golden beauty of the realm, even long before you arrived. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would scoff when his eye would catch anyone reading a pamphlet containing the written songs in your name. Still, Helaena noted that he was the first one to acquire the said pamphlets, religiously reading them until Aegon caught wind of a lioness whose beauty was hidden in Casterly Rock. As a result, the one-eyed prince hindered himself from admitting that he and his brother were attracted to the same girl. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would roll his eye in annoyance whenever he heard gossip about you in the halls, yet he still stayed and listened to all of them. 

“Should you not be joining the line of her suitors?” Helaena teased, amused by the way her brother’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. Helaena waited for his reply, but none came. It was a rare occurrence for Aemond to not find words. “I shall see you at supper, sister,” Aemond gritted and walked off, leaving Princess Helaena amused and with new ammunition to lovingly tease her brother. 

Supper came, and to Aemond’s displeasure or satisfaction, you were there. Seated next to his sister, whispering and giggling as if you were the oldest friends when, in reality, you had only waltzed into their life just the other day. He supposed that he should find joy that his sister had finally befriended someone, but must it be you? 

Must it be you who had to join them in supper and be in his constant presence? Seducing and tempting him even though you merely just sat there— making him question himself and his honor as he watched wine stain your lush lips or the way you would let out a low moan at the taste of the pie placed on your plate. You were too much of a temptation, a trial sent by the gods to test his patience and honor, in which he was seemingly failing, for all he wanted to do earlier was cut all the suitors who dared touch you and now taste the wine on your lips. 

When supper had come to an end, Aemond was quick to stand and had a great wish to retire to his rooms, but his mother had different plans. “Aemond, will you escort Lady Lannister to her quarters? A young lady cannot be left alone in the halls at such an hour,” You turned your expecting gaze to the prince, watching as his jaw ticked and his tense form turned rigged. It was alarmingly clear that he had no wish to extend such generosity to you, but still, he obliged his mother and offered his leather-clad arm for you to take. 

You walked out of the dining hall in exchange for the corridor. Tense, suffocating air surrounds you and the second-born prince, whose reluctance was nothing short of obvious. You tried to make polite conversation with him as he walked with you through the never-ending, dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, but his replies were only a nod and a grunt. When you reached the door of your chambers, you let go of the prince’s arm, pride wounded as you were completely ignored and could feel unaccounted animosity towards you. “Good night, Your Highness,” You drawled, growing annoyed by the moment but still had the respectability to lowly curtsy before the prince. 

Aemond gulped as you curtsied before him once again, giving him a heavenly sight of your bosom that made him stiffen in his spot. He knew that your actions were a sign of respect; he should take it as a compliment that you had bowed before him lowly, but every time you did so, all you did was tempt him more. You were shameless as you fashioned a dress with such a neckline, giving every man a sight for their desires to only fester. Now he knew why every man who had encountered you had been left entranced and obsessed; you were a vixen, a true lioness. 

Days passed as you stayed in the Red Keep, and you could feel the constant and growing animosity and disapproval Prince Aemond held for you. You had no idea the reason for it; you could not recall what you had done for him to grow so callous and mean towards you. You would hear his scoffs of derision whenever someone paid you a compliment, and he was within earshot to hear it. You would catch him as he would roll his unique lilac eye whenever you spoke or offered your opinion or even when you laughed. It was such a shame that such a handsome and attractive prince was so vile and rude. You were growing impatient and irritated with him. On any other occasion, your course of action will be to avoid and not put yourself in situations that would require you to be near the prince, but somehow, the gods were cruel and had twisted fate to have you in each other’s presence constantly. 

When night finally came and offered respite from the bitter prince, you sighed in your chambers and tried to find a reason for his contempt towards you. It was an odd feeling you did not wish to fester; all your life, everyone you met was quick to grow fond of you. You were quick to leave them enchanted by your beauty and charms. You named it as your greatest gift— your greatest power was how well beloved you are by anyone… how you could wrap them around your pretty little fingers, which is why the prince’s dislike for you had left you entirely unnerved and bothered. You were growing scared that perhaps your charms were slipping and soon, all too, would feel the same animosity the prince harbors for you. You could not find rest that night, fear trickling into your system. The prince had unraveled your deepest fears with just his quiet distaste.  

You step out of your guest chambers and threaded the halls of the Red Keep, walking the darkened halls and trying to find distraction in the library. You walked straight and paid no mind if any soul was in the library because you were certain that no one else would be present at this hour. You were mistaken. 

Prince Aemond frowned to himself, thinking his mind had placed a trick upon him. The image of you haunted him even in the dead of night when he thought he could finally escape your beautiful torment. But as he heard books being retrieved from shelves and the way your scent wafted to where he sat, he grew aware that the image he saw was no apparition. You were there, with him, alone in the quiet room. 

Aemond took quiet steps towards you, the moonlight bathing you in its light. Your frame aglow, making you look more ethereal as the silver light lights your golden mane. Aemond clenched his jaw as the same prominent desire for you only bloomed tenfold. “You should not be here,” He gritted, standing at arm’s length. It was concerning that he was standing at such a close proximity and you have yet to notice. It only solidified his theory that you were so enveloped in only yourself that you care not about the world around you. Aemond bit his tongue as an amused smirk threatened to escape to his lips. You jumped in your spot and turned to him wide-eyed in fear. He had never seen a lion frightened. 

“My prince… I— I apologize, I did not know that the libraries are restricted at these hours,” You said and closed the book in your hand. “It is not,” comes the reply of the prince, making a frown of confusion paint your face. You turned your entire frame towards him, peering up at the prince who looked at you with nothing but resentment in his cold lilac eye. “Then why shouldn’t I be here?” You asked with a tilt of your head.“You should be in your chambers.” Aemond gritted and removed his gaze from you because looking at you illuminated by the moonlight made him feel too much. He stepped back, but you matched his actions and stepped forward. He took a step back again, and you only mimicked his steps. It was an odd scene, a dragon being toyed by a lioness. 

Watching Prince Aemond’s nostrils flare and his jaw tick again made you smirk, as he was clearly annoyed by your presence. “You do not like me,” you suddenly announced, making his shielded gaze cast itself upon your eyes again. “You do not know me, yet you do not like me… why is that?” You asked and stepped forward once again, leaving just a sliver of space between you and the prince. Aemond gulped thickly as you were just a breath away from him. Your scent evading his senses, your enchanting eyes assessing his every move. 

“Oh, I know you,” He spat but felt his knees weaken when you raised your brow, painting a fake confused look on your pretty face. Siren eyes mockingly turned into doe ones, and plump lips parted in fictitious shock. “You do?” You asked. “You know me? I apologize, my prince, but I do not recall our first encounter. Please, tell me how you know me,” you rolled your eyes and finally let your annoyance slip, for you had enough of the prince’s judgment. The prince and you stared each other down, him not finding words as you had your expressive, scathing gaze upon him. He did not know how to handle himself— he was always silver-tongued and quick-witted, never one to be speechless, but apparently, that changed when it came to you. When pitted against you, he felt like the quiet, dragon-less little boy he once was. His raging fire weakened and turned to mere flickers. 

You scoffed and shook your head, not wavering or stepping away from the prince, ready to retire back to your room, but he took hold of your arm and pulled you even closer to him. “I know you. You’re a spoiled… vain… flirtatious little brat,” He spat, and watching your eyes widen and fill with offense brought back Aemond’s confidence, and he once again gained his silver tongue and towering, imposing demeanor. He watched as your cheeks flushed and wondered how it would feel to touch them. Would it be as hot as the fire that burned in his veins? 

“My father and uncle used to always speak highly about you… about how cavalier, genteel, and dutiful the second prince of the realm was— it is disheartening to be faced with a mean, calloused boy who had shown me nothing but animosity since I’ve arrived— animosity which I do not understand the reason of!” You retaliated and pried his hold off you, Aemond trying not to grow amused as you said the words with a stomp of your foot as if you were throwing a tantrum. “You want to know the reason?” Aemond hummed as you glared at him. “Yes.” You said and crossed your arms across your chest. Aemond caught the action and reminded himself not to let his eye linger upon the deep live between your bosom. He was certain you did that on purpose. You were calculated; you did each of your actions, knowing fully well that it would elicit a reaction from those around you that would only selfishly serve you and your vanity. 

He could see it in how you interacted with the lords and other men, flashing your coy smile, batting your eyelashes, and seducing them with just a mere movement from your graceful frame. He could see it in how you toyed with Aegon, letting him whisper things to your ear, leaning in closer when the older prince spoke, and laughing at whatever meaningless word came out of the prince’s wine-smelling mouth. And you did it with him as well, the way your eye would hold his gaze, seeking him out during dinner and distracting him whilst in training. You were a shameless flirt. Someone who craved attention, and everyone seemed to be grateful to give you what you sought— except Aemond.

“Because you are a flirt— a tease. You toy with men because you were gifted with beauty,” Aemond seethed and that only brought a deep furrow on your brows. “I am no such thing!” You defended yourself, and the prince only scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You are. It is plain. You have them wrapped around your fingers— you know how easily an attractive face persuades them,” the prince said but frowned as he saw your lips twitch upward. As if his words and insults were a jest. “Tell me, my prince… do you agree with their sentiments? Do you find me attractive as well?” You asked and tilted your head, smirking to yourself as the dragon’s fire stuttered and backed away once more. It was a battle, each opponent taking their hits and reloading in time just to fight with the other again. 

The prince gulped and felt heat rise to the tips of his ear; luckily, the reddening flesh was covered by the curtain of his silver locks. “I— I don’t,” He said and stood his ground, forcing his voice to be steady and scathing though he told a plain lie. “I do not find you attractive,” He said more firmly and slightly more convincing this time. “You don’t?” You asked and watched as he curtly nodded and thinned his lips. “That is good,” you mused and backed away from the little space you had given him. The prince’s brow twitched as you said your sentiment, as he heard relief from your voice. “Why is that?” He curiously asked his turn to step closer to you. 

“Because your mother had proposed to my father that a union between us would be well suited; well suited to whom I do not know, but that is what she had proposed. Telling my father that she had needed to bring the subject to you to see if you agreed.” It was a nice scene to see the prince’s whole body turn to stone in shock. His thin lips parted, and his eyes held cluelessness and disbelief. You took the moment of silence from the prince to speak once more. “Well, it is most fortunate that you clearly don’t agree— it would save me from having to be in the presence of such a… prejudiced and bitter prince.” You relished the way you caught his hand clenched around nothing and the way you were certain he was ready to turn violent by your words. However, you still continued to speak.  

“Though the title of princess is quite tempting, and I am certain I’d look exquisite with a tiara— I’d rather run off with the stable boy and live in squalor than live in a place with you.” You finished with a satisfied smirk on your lips at the murderous look on the prince’s face. When his lips parted and tried to speak, he flailed on what to say. That only added to your triumph. “Good night, my prince, Aemond,” You said in a sickly, sweet tone and lowly curtsied again before walking your way back to your chambers. 

It should greatly shame the prince. His actions would haunt him for moons to come, but the moment you exited the library, and he was once again left alone, he succumbed to his desires and undid the laces of his trousers. Pulling his painfully hardened length and pleasured himself with the thought of you. Your scent still hung in the air, and your voice still rang in his ear, but what pushed him over the edge was the image of you curtsying, almost going to your knees before him. His mind was made then. Whatever act he had portrayed the past few days will quickly come to an end for he shall certainly agree with his mother that a union between him and you would be most suited. 

You sat in disbelief and utter confusion as your father announced to you that a union between you and the prince shall take place. “Why? Wh— did the queen ask his thoughts on this? Or was it just your and Her Majesty’s decision?” You questioned as you recalled the night in the library with the prince. It had only been two days since the heated and angered scene transpired, and you had done your best to avoid him and his raging lilac gaze. “The prince came to me and asked for your hand. And given the conversation I had with the queen, I assumed that his proposal has her blessing.” Your lips agape, and you try to work out your objections, but your father cupped your cheeks. “You, my darling, will be a princess just like you had always dreamed of.” He said softly, recalling how you ran the halls of Casterly Rock with a tiara atop of your head when you were younger— always begging your septa to tell you stories of princesses and their princes finding 'happily ever after.’

“I shall leave you to get ready— it will be announced to the court later today, and the wedding shall take place in a week’s time.” He announced, making you stand in utter surprise. “What?! Father— Why so soon?” You asked in disbelief. “The queen wishes his son to be married before the king meets his demise. He wishes for the king to witness Aemond joyously with his bride,” You were stunned and were certain that joy would not appear from a union between you and Aemond, making the Queen’s wishes moot. “Now, make haste as you shall be presented with your betrothed!” Your father smiled and kissed the top of your head, and hurriedly left the guest chambers. 

Aemond observed as your proud gaze was planted on the floor as they announced the upcoming union between the two of you. He was certain that news had left you in quite a state of confusion. The prince passed his eye at the sea of people, mostly on the men who had lined up for years and courted you, only to witness that the beauty they coveted was then promised to the dragon prince. Aemond’s look turned to his brother, whose jealous gaze was upon him, and Aemond couldn’t help but smirk. He then returned his gaze to you again, finally having looked up and locked your eyes upon him. Nothing but confusion in your orbs, and perhaps anger that Aemond simply found endearing. 

“I do not understand.” You gritted as you and Aemond were given a chance of privacy to get to know more about each other before the wedding. You two were in the room of the small council, the queen, your father, and the lord commander standing by the other side of the door lost in discussion as you and your betrothed were about to thread towards an argument. “You and I shall marry each other; what is so hard to understand?” The prince retorted. “I suppose the saying is true… the more comely the woman is, the more she is simple,” Aemond quickly added, grinning at how quickly you were to grow red in rage. Your cheeks match the scarlet of your gown. 

“Why, in the name of the seven, would you agree to this?! You and I are not suited for each other!” you whispered harshly, not wanting your parents to hear you quarrel. "And what makes you think so?” The prince hummed, stepping closer to you, tightening in his trousers once more as your plump lips were agape. “I haven’t had a civil conversation with you. All our interactions have been arguments— do you truly think that a marriage between us would work?” You asked incredulously, mind spinning at how abrupt, incomprehensible, and inexplicable the fates were. “You wish for a civil conversation? Let us have one then,” he simply replied and took a seat in one of the chairs housed in the long table separating the two of you.

You took in deep breaths and studied as he sat calmly, his hands placed atop the wooden table. You eventually took the seat across from him. “Why did you agree to this union?” You asked, your mind still replaying the scene in which he stated plainly that he dislikes you greatly. “Because I am in need of a wife,” he answered. You licked your lips and shook your head. “Why me, then? When you are perfectly aware of our shared… distaste for one another,” You said and watched as the prince shrugged. “Because…” the prince trailed, licking his lips as he was certain you would not believe what he would utter because he himself would find it hard to believe as well at how he had treated you since you had come. “I want you.” He finally said after a long moment of steely silence. The prince clenched his jaw as he heard you scoff, and a sardonic, melodious laugh soon followed. “You want me?” You asked, “What? You want to punish me? Make me miserable with a union with a man who hates me?” You added. “I do not hate you,” the prince sighed and rolled his eye as you stubbornly shook your head. 

“Ever since I have arrived all you had done was glare at me, pick quarrels and squabbles. You had offended me right to my face, and now you say want me?” You asked incredulously. “They say Targaryens are mad… but I had hoped your mother’s blood had leveled your and your sibling's heads.” You mumbled and did not expect to see an amused look on the prince’s face. A beat of silence surrounded the two of you, staring each other down. A lioness with a confused scowl on her face, and a dragon who had amusement and content on his. “I still do not understand,” You said, and the Prince sighed once more.

“It was all an act,” he sighed. My animosity towards you—all of it was an act. A facade to protect me because when I saw how you interacted with the other prospects for your hand… how obliging you were with them, I could not stomach the fact that you would not be mine,” he admitted, letting himself be vulnerable for the first time in years. I… I do not like sharing,” he then added. 

“I was five and ten when I read the first poem written for you,” he started. “I have not seen you… I have not a clue of who you were except that you were Ser Tyland’s kin, and you were of great beauty as they have written, and you already managed to make me grow curious,” You stayed silent as the prince continued on to explain. “I waited every week for new poems to be published… the songs in your name still did not receive much recognition— you were still unheard of by the others. I was certain I was the only one who bought those pamphlets; you were a secret for me alone.” You nodded along and rested your back against the chair, observing the prince intently as he spoke. “Aegon found the pamphlets and began to grow curious too… along with the entire kingdom, and I just did not enjoy the thought that I have to share the desire to know you— to be with you with other men,” He finished, and you bit your tongue as you did not know how to take the prince’s explanation. Was it flattering or puzzling? You had no clue. All you knew was your heart was beating loudly in your chest and your stomach was filled with butterflies. 

“My uncle often shared stories of you and your siblings…” You spoke, your turn to share an anecdote. “As a child, I have always been enthralled by the idea of royalty. So he would oblige me and tell me stories of the Dragon Princes.” Aemond nodded along as your eyes were cast upon the wooden table. “He would always go into great detail about your brother, Aegon… seeing he will be king, but I was always more curious about you,” You admitted. “But he said you always kept to yourself, so he could not truly tell me stories about you, so I would make him repeat the anecdotes already told time and time again. On how kind you were with your sister and how dutiful you were to your mother… how you were brave and determined— ceaselessly training with the sword even if you had lost your eye. And if you were not training, you were adding to your scholarly knowledge.” You turned your gaze to the Prince’s exceptionally beautiful lilac eye, “I have been fond of you long before I have met you, my prince. Ask my father and uncle… or anyone in Casterly Rock, for that matter,” You said truthfully, watching as Aemond’s lips twitch into a smile

“I would admit; I came here with the hopes of getting to know you… that perhaps a match between us would fall organically and not one that our father and mother made.” You said and fisted the fabric of your scarlet gown as your heart beat loudly at your admittance. The prince licked his lips, “Should it matter how this union was made?” He asked, “Either way, in the end, we’ll still get what we both want,” Aemond stated, his whole being satisfied as he was not the only one who pinned over a person he was still yet to meet. “I suppose not,” you smiled as your impending nuptials with a prince you had dreamed of since you were a child was to come. The door then swung open, revealing your father along with the Queen.“I hope the both of you had gotten the chance to grow more acquainted with each other,” The queen smiled, already excited with the prospect of your marriage and for you to be her daughter. You were most fitting to their family; not only will her son gain an incredibly charming and comely wife, but her daughter too will gain a friend. 

“We have, your grace,” You said with a small smile. She gave a pleased nod, and her smile widened, “That is good. Come with me, child. Plans have to be made, and you still have yet to be fitted for your gown!” She said and held out her hand for you to take. You stood and turned briefly to your betrothed; you once again curtsied before him. Now, a smile intended for him was placed on your pink lips, and Aemond’s longing gaze followed you as you walked out of the room with his mother. 

The day of your wedding was quick to come, and you felt entirely giddy and excited about marrying Prince Aemond. Your father escorted you down the aisle, the eyes of the kingdom following you as you gracefully walked to your soon-husband, who had a rare smile on his lips. When your father gave your hand for the prince to take, you felt gooseflesh scatter throughout your entire body. Aemond looked at you adoringly throughout the entirety of the ceremony, not at all paying attention to the Maester who blessed your union. 

Aemond was entirely impatient for him to announce you as his wife and for him to finally be able to kiss your lips. To mark you as his in front of the gods and the entire kingdom. And when that moment finally came, the desire that burned brightly inside the both of you only grew. Aemond was not one to show affection publicly, but he could not hinder himself as he cupped your cheeks to deepen your kiss that was witnessed by all present in the hall. Their screams and cheers faded and turned mute as both of your lips intertwined. 

Suppressed desires could not be contained any longer as you and Aemond had finally had a taste of each other. There was supposed to be a banquet to celebrate your union; the Queen had organized the feast to perfection, and your father spared no expense for the celebration. But it was unfortunately missed by you and your husband as Aemond quickly led you to your shared bed chambers, both of you unable to wait for nightfall to be in each other’s arms. 

“Aemond,” You mewled as he pushed you up against the stone pillar in your chambers. His lips kissed your neck, leaving his mark with every kiss, and his hands quickly untied the laces of your gown. You hear him growl as you boldly move your hand to cup his hardened length against his trousers, hesitant as you move your hand. “We should be in the feast,” You said but made no move to halt your pleasurable actions. Aemond shook his head, “Do you want to attend the feast, or do you want to be pleasured, wife?” He asked and watched with dark eyes as the sleeves of your dress draped down your arm and revealed more of your milky skin. “I want you, husband.” You breathed, and Aemond let out a pleasurable sound as your hold on his length tightened. 

“Kneel,” Aemond gritted, and your eyes widened at his command. “Kneel and show your devotion to your lord husband,” Aemond demanded and clenched his jaw as you did as he asked, slowly going to your knees, your eyes still locked upon him. You licked your lips as you were eye-leveled with his bulging length, “Take it out,” Aemond commanded and tightly closed his eye as you did the action, your skin finally touching his. You bit your lip at his massiveness, at how well-endowed he was and how beautiful he fully was. You swallowed thickly as you recalled the books you had read in the dead of night, detailing how man and woman should be. 

Aemond let out a strained sound as you placed a ghost of a kiss upon the tip of his cock, your name spewing from his lips as you peppered light kisses along his length. “Stop being a tease, little wife,” he gritted and felt his stomach tighten at the smirk on your lips and the view of you kneeling before him. Your dress had dropped lowly, and he could see most of your bosom that had been tempting him for days on end. 

You let out a breath and to him to your mouth. You half expected yourself to be repulsed, but with each moment you had his length between your lips, bobbing your head, sucking harshly, hearing the moans your husband spewed, and looking at his pleasured etched face, you felt your cunt drip with want and anticipation. Aemond groaned louder as you fondled his other parts, thanking the gods for blessing him with you as his wife. Thanking them for their favor to let him be bound to the Golden Beauty of the realm. The prince breathed in harshly as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, the need for release in him loudly pronouncing itself, making him abruptly pull out. He could not be so selfish and let himself succumb to pleasure whilst you were still filled with need. 

Aemond pulled you to stand, fervently meeting your lips once more, and guided you to bed. Your dress finally fell, and Aemond greedily took one of your tit into the hot cavern of his mouth. He bit the bud and elicited a sweet whine from your lips, and he quickly soothed it with his tongue and felt you clung to him tighter. Taking his other hand and guided it to you other needing tit to pleasure it as well. Aemond smirked upon your bosom at how in need you were of him. Aemond moved his lips to your neglected tit, and his hand trailed down south, your eyes rolling back and your hands fisting the back of his head as you finally felt his cold hands upon your needing heat. 

“So desperate for me, little wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction. Your moans echoed throughout the chambers, along with the sound of your wetness as Aemond slipped his finger in you, his thumb circling the pearl of your cunt, earning more of your sweet moans. Aemond moved to kiss your lips again, feeling how tightly your cunt clenched around his finger. You parted your lips as you felt climax nearing, your wide, lusted eyes locked in with your husbands, but before you could even succumb to ultimate pleasure, Aemond stole away his finger. “Aemond,” You whined, but your husband only smirked and pecked your lips. Making you watch as he brought his coated fingers to his lips and sucked the essence of you clean. 

Your mind was dazed and frustrated as he denied you pleasure. Your eyes followed him as he removed his tunic and lay nakedly on the silk sheets of your feathered bed. “Come here,” He ordered, and you hesitated for a moment. You took your bottom lip between your lips and did as told, moving to straddle him as he lay. His hands found home on your hips, urging you to move forward, and you furrowed your brows in confusion as your core threaded farther away from his length. “Aemond, I—“ Words were lost as the prince’s lips were met with your cunt. His hands forcing you down upon his face. Your head tilted back in pleasure as you rolled your hips upon his face, his prominent nose perfectly aligned with your nubbin and his tongue darting in and out of your tightness. 

“Aemond,” You cried as your thighs were quick to shiver; release was finding you once more. “Aemond… Aemond…” You uttered his name like a prayer. With one flick of his tongue, you came undone, your moans ringing loudly that you were certain that it was heard in the halls but could not find care. Aemond had a slight smirk as he moved you closer to his length. Your eyes were still glazed from your climax, and your mind was so disoriented that you did not even realize that Aemond had positioned his length at your entrance. The sharp pain of your maidenhead being taken was the only indication you had that you had now sunk upon his cock. 

Aemond relished at the sight of you atop of him, your cunt taking and squeezing his cock. Your breast was heaving, and your eyes were welling with tears. Aemond reached out and took your bosom into his calloused hands, kneading the taut, soft flesh— earning a pleasured moan through your pain. Aemond gave you the liberty to move whenever you felt comfortable doing so. He was an impatient man, but he savored every small movement you made as you clenched along his cock. 

Your furrowed brows dissipated, and your mouth parted as the tip of cock perfectly hit the spot inside of you that made you see stars. Aemond’s breathing labored as you rolled your hips, seeking further friction. He moved his cold hands to your hips and guided you to bounce upon his cock. “Aemond!” You cried, and Aemond could only marvel at your pleasured face and bouncing tits; you squeezed him so tightly that slight pain mixed with his delight. “Are you going to come, my wife? Will you come at your husband’s cock?” Aemond hummed and sat up, placing his head between your ample breasts, greedily inhaling your scent. “Yes… gods, yes!” You cried as he harshly thrust inside you. Both of you meet your peak, Aemond spilling his seed deep inside your cunt and you clawing at his bare back and leaving your own marks. 

“My wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction and nuzzled his nose against yours, a smile on your lips as your foreheads pressed as the cheers from the feast that you two disregarded were lowly heard in your chambers, “My prince,” You smiled and kissed his lips, your heart full. Your being wholly satisfied as you were bound to the prince that your young heart had wanted long before. 

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[targaryen-dynasty]

MINE AND MINE ONLY.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Aemond has gotten you pregnant six months ago, and seeing him with his infant niece during dinner with his family sparks something inside of you only he can satisfy.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, face sitting, slight anal play, slight breeding kink, pregnant sex, slight lactation kink

WORDS: 4.9 K

NOTES: Sorry, I’m kinda in baby fever right now don’t ask me why. 😭 This also is my gift for hitting 1850 followers a few days ago, which means I’m finally where I’ve been before deleting my old blog. Thanks for everyone following me on this journey. 🫶🏻

The days between Christmas and New Years usually are meant for people to take some much-needed downtime from the stress of the past days or weeks – unless you are a Targaryen or married to one. 

It’s the fourth year in a row you’re spending one, sometimes even two, days at the large Targaryen mansion with every member of their family present. 

What started as an opportunity to celebrate the New Year early with her family four years ago, since Viserys and Alicent wanted to celebrate New Year’s Eve on a yacht somewhere in the Sea of Dorne back then, has quickly turned into a tradition that no one could escape. 

Not even the six-month pregnant you. 

As an excuse to not travel to the family’s vacation home on Dragonstone, Aemond has begged for you to allow him to tell his mother that your back pain has gotten so bad you couldn’t sit in the car for four hours. 

The fact that he didn’t fall to his knees while doing it was everything. 

But you have told him no, seeing that your back pains have eased two weeks ago, and it is one of the rare occasions he gets to spend with his whole family, not just his mother’s side. 

If he wants to or not. 

“And how are you spending New Year’s?” you ask, lounging in the burgundy Lawson chair. 

Helaena sits in the chair next to yours, fidgeting with the stem of her wine glass. Every now and then you spot her lilac eyes flickering to your protruding bump, accentuated by the tight slip dress you wear. 

“This year we’re embracing a night in,” she answers, nursing her alcohol-free wine. “Cregan doesn’t want to leave the children with his parents, since Lyanna is still breastfeeding, and Edrick doesn’t want to go without his little sister.”

You nod along to her words, smiling softly at the mention of her sons‘ protectiveness, and glance past her to Aemond, Aegon and Cregan. The men are standing close to the fireplace, glasses of whiskey between their fingers. Normally, they would be tipsy by now – some more than others – if it wasn’t for the infant cradled in Cregan’s strong arms. 

Helaena follows your line of sight, the turning of her head prompting you to look at her again. 

“What are your plans?” she asks. 

You pucker your lips slightly, looking down at the glass of water you‘ve rested on your belly before meeting her eyes. 

“Aegon has invited us to a party in White Harbor, a formal dinner with some of his friends. We wanted to go, because the place is stunning and it’s overlooking the iconic harbor fireworks, but it’s such a long drive, and Aemond doesn’t want to risk anything by us taking the plane,” you sigh, “so, we’ll probably stay at home or just go out for dinner.”

Ever since you’ve handed him the gift box containing four identical, positive pregnancy tests, Aemond has taken over a protective aura and has found it incredibly difficult to keep his hands off of you. 

It’s a miracle he was able to talk to his brother and brother-in-law for so long without checking in on you once. 

But speak of the devil. 

What you aren’t expecting when Aemond makes his way over to where you’re conversing with his sister, is the little infant in his arms. Her head rests against his shoulder, while one of his large hands supports it and neck, and the other supports her bottom. 

He’s swaying her gently as he walks over, a proud smile on his lips as he can’t tear his eyes off of his niece, coming to stand next to Helaena’s chair. The sight makes your heart swell with love. 

Cregan trails behind him, and your eyes briefly fall to the abandoned Aegon still standing at the fireplace and balancing their three glasses in his hands. 

“Honey,” the Northener’s gruff voice rings out, “your mother said that Edrick’s made a mess. Could you change him while I clean up?” Still standing offset behind your husband, Cregan pats Aemond on the shoulder once. “Our girl’s in good hands, and Aemy here can already practice for what awaits him soon.”

Helaena raises her eyebrows, before snickering at her husband’s remark. She bows her head once, smiling at you, “excuse me, Y/N.”

“We’ll talk later,” you assure her. 

She brushes her hand over your swollen belly once as she rises, Cregan’s hand on the small of her back urging her out of the living space. 

Aemond carefully sinks into the chair, and changes the position of the sleeping infant so she’s cradled in his arms. 

“What have you been up to?” he asks, finally moving his head to look at you. 

You were wearing a knitted sweater over your dress when you two arrived a few hours earlier, but with hot flashes attacking you every now and then, you have long opted to slip out of it and hang the sweater over a chair. 

And the outfit change clearly is only now noticed by him.

His lilac eyes flickered between yours and your full breasts, and you can literally see the gears turning in his head. 

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he states, full on staring at your breasts. 

Fine, maybe you have also done it to tease him a bit. 

A blush creeps onto his cheeks, running down his neck, and he slightly shifts in his seat, turning his gaze away as he clears his throat. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from curling into a smile, you quickly shush the urge by taking a swig of your water. “Wasn’t keen on spending the evening unable to think of anything else than how sore and uncomfortable I feel,” you tease. “Are you complaining?”

Aemond raises one hand in defeat, “certainly not, just pointing it out.”

You teasingly reach and bring your index finger to his chin, tilting it up for his eyes to meet yours again. “Then you better stop staring, we're not the only ones here.” 

You glance briefly at the gathered party around you, watching Alicent chat with Rhaenyra and her husband, while Aegon seems to be deep in a conversation with Daemon, no doubt talking about the latest match between the Casterly Rock Lions and the Oldtown Saints.

“Fair enough,” he answered with a low chuckle. 

The soft coos of his niece catch your attention, and you lean forwards to gauge at the little bundle. She’s stirring lightly in her sleep, grimaces and smiles alike gracing her scrunched features. Aemond brushes her cheek with his knuckles in feather light touches, until her coos are interrupted, and wide, blue eyes stare up at him. 

Lyanna smacks her lips slowly, bringing her small hand up to her mouth. “What is she doing?” Aemond whispers, not daring to pull his eyes away from her in case she starts to cry. 

“She’s hungry,” you answer with a chuckle, grinning as you notice his helplessness. 

It’s so brief, but you spot his eyes flickering towards your full breasts, and you have to stop yourself from hitting his shoulder. One wrong word. 

“You know there are barely four months left until your life looks like this, too, right?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“I do, but they have not yet told us about this at the prenatal class.”

“Oh, come on, she’s not your first niece, and she’s not even crying.”

The sigh of relief Aemond releases as he spots Helaena’s silver hair in the far distance has you shaking your head, bringing your index finger up to your smiling lips. 

“How did you three get on?” Helaena asks, noticing that her daughter is awake. 

Your husband rises to his feet, and hands his niece over to her. “Easy, she’s just woken up and seems really hungry,” he notes, as if he has figured it out all by himself. “And how did you fare?”

Helaena releases a dry chuckle, brushing her free hand up and down Aemond’s biceps. “I’ll tell you another time, don’t want to scare you.“ She briefly glances over at you. “Just know that Creg has to bathe him right now, because the wet wipes were useless.”

The grimace on Aemond’s face at his sister’s words has you choking on a laugh. 

Lyanna starts to whine and wiggle in her mother’s grasp, getting her attention. “Sorry again, it’s feeding time, obviously,” she states, muttering the last word under her breath, and shoots you an apologetic gaze before scurrying off. 

You hold out a hand, and knowing what it means, Aemond takes it to help you up from the chair. 

His heart melts at the sight of you before him, and he wraps an arm around you to pull you against his side as he brushes his hand over the gentle swell of your belly in tender affection. There were shy kicks meeting his hand, making him grin.

You return the embrace, and lean yourself against his frame, your head resting on his chest. “It’s different when it’s your own child, you know,” you say, the small glimmer of a smile blessing your features. 

His head dips forwards, and he presses his lips to your temple, mumbling the words against your skin, “I can’t wait to meet him.”

—

Aemond has his arm slung around your waist as everyone has gathered in the vast living space to watch the children perform a play they have practiced. 

Alicent, ever the proud grandmother, clings to Viserys as they watch in awe what the children of Rhaenyra have been up to. An oblivious Edrick appears in the middle of it all, but before Cregan can scoop him up, the little Viserys has taken his hands to include him in their mischief. 

“Have I already told you how good you look today?” Aemond whispers, his head dipping forwards so his lips are level with your ear. He rubs your bump gently, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes. 

You shiver from his touch, your body tingling from the attention your husband gives you. “You’re not paying attention,” you scold softly, nodding towards the children in the middle. A teenage Jacaerys, as well as Daemon’s daughters from his first marriage, stand before you, your view of the play slightly concealed. 

“I can’t help myself,” he whispers huskily, “you’re just too distracting, Mommy.” A smirk tugs on his lips as the name leaves them, and the sight is only topped by him leaning in to brush his lips over your ear, before they press to the sensitive skin behind it. The very spot that always makes you putty in his hands, and with your hormones in full swing, it does a little more than just melt you. 

“Aemond,” you whisper, though he can also hear the trace of a moan in it, “easy.”

His teeth graze your earlobe, and the ring of his baritone voice sends a shiver down your spine, “we should go to bed early tonight.”

You can’t help but to chuckle at his words. It’s his subtle way to ask for something without directly asking, though you know exactly what he means. You lean into him, pressing yourself against his side. 

Biting the tip of your tongue, it was impossible for you to stop your lips from pulling into a mischievous smirk. 

“Do you think your mother will notice if we leave now?” you ask, innocently. 

You’re greeted with a wide grin when your eyes meet Aemond’s, and the arm he has wrapped around you tightens just more, keeping you against his frame. 

His lips brush your ear again, trailing down to press a kiss to the side of your neck. “If she does, she can tell me later,” he raps into your ear, “besides, we wouldn‘t be gone for too long, sweetheart. Just long enough for a little… alone time. Who could blame us for wanting to savor the last weeks where it’s only the two of us, mh?”

Aemond looks around one last time, noticing how everyone around you is mostly focused on the children’s show. 

Bringing his hand to the small of your back, he gently guides you through the crowd of his relatives, before you’re on the way to his childhood bedroom. 

It’s furnished in a minimalistic style, making it obvious that Alicent has spent some time decluttering her children’s rooms to make them more presentable for whenever guests stay over. The room basically is Aemond’s, and the rest belongs to Alicent. 

Walking in behind you, he locks the door. You look around briefly before his firm chest is flush against your back with his arms around your waist, resting on your bump. He presses his lips to the curve of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head to the side, and a shuddered breath to escape your throat. 

The feeling of his hard, clothed cock against the curve of your ass drives you to insanity, making you eager for more. He grinds against you as his fingers travel over your curves, and greedily fist the fabric of your dress. 

“Let me help you undress, Mama,” he rasps against your skin, goosebumps prickling in its wake.

When he sinks to his knees behind you, you whimper quietly, immediately missing the heat of his breath and lips on your body. 

“Aemond,” you breathe, looking down at him as he pushes your dress up. 

The dumbfounded look that crosses his features with the skirt of your dress rucked up just shy beneath your bump has you chuckling, realization settling in. 

“You went commando?” 

Biting your bottom lip, you can basically see his excitement building, the bulge in the front of his slacks quite obvious despite him kneeling. “I was feeling… adventurous today,” you hum, a glint of mischief in your eyes. 

He can’t help but to grin at your comment, and, on his way up, Aemond starts to press several kisses to the outside of your thigh, his fingers following in their trail. 

Standing to full height again, looming over you, he keeps his hand beneath your bump, his fingers caressing your pubic mound. 

You squeeze your thighs together in a desperate attempt to soothe the aching at the apex of them, since his fingers aren’t touching you where you need them most. An anticipating moan slips past your lips, a shiver shaking your core. 

“I hope you’re prepared for me to be just as adventurous,” he hums, “... and thorough.”

His fingers hook under the thin straps of your dress, tugging them off your shoulders to push the elastic fabric down your curves and onto the ground. It’s pooling around your ankles in a white puddle, leaving you completely bare to him with just a few touches. 

You shudder under his intense gaze, practically devouring you with just his lilac eyes, and try to break the tension by pulling him in for a kiss. 

You turn around mid-kiss, your protruding belly a barrier between your bodies. Before your hands can entangle into his strands, Aemond catches them and intertwines your fingers. He creates a small distance between your bodies, taking a few steps back and pulling you with him. 

His steps are deliberately slow, careful, and you’re encouraged to climb his lap as he sits down at the edge of the bed. Both his feet are firmly planted on the ground, supporting your swollen body. 

He groans as you trap him between your legs, his hands roaming your curves almost immediately. The knowledge that he was the one responsible for the changes of your body, and that everybody else knew that as well, does something to him, making him all the more hungry for you. 

It was even more addicting to see you sit astride him like a goddess, ready to claim what was yours already anyways. Him.

Feeling his clothed member throb beneath you, the urge to grind above him is as inviting as never, and you’re more than ready to give into the urge. Your wetness soaks his slacks, and the groan Aemond releases at the friction has you whimpering with him. 

Your lips meet for a fervent kiss, and while your hands rest on his shoulders, his are eager to explore the swell of your belly. His tongue finds its way past your lips, swirling around yours in a way that turns the kiss into all teeth and tongue. 

Dragging your teeth over his kiss swollen bottom lip, he tilts his head upwards and nudges the tip of his nose against yours. You lick over his lips once, but when you lean in to connect your lips again, Aemond stops you with his hand around your throat. 

“I want you to sit on my face,” he rasps, his voice husky. 

You haven’t sat on his face in weeks, or rather ever since the round ligament pain kicked in and made even the simplest daily tasks difficult for you. 

Your eyes widen. “But– I–”

“No, you’re not too heavy,” he interrupts, cocking one eyebrow at you. 

There’s not even a chance for you to reject before he lies down and hooks his hands beneath your thighs, hoisting you up and pulling you towards his face. You sit on his chest, barely seeing his chiseled features from under your bump. 

As the position you are in truly settles in your mind, a bright blush starts to cover the apples of your cheeks. His angelic looks don't help either, strands of silver hair splayed out around his head like a halo, and his piercing lilac eyes fixed on you and you only. “But you tell me when it gets too much, no?” you ask, coyly. 

Aemond rubs his hands over your bare thighs in comfort, nodding. “Always.” Deep down you know it’s a lie, because he has told you on more than one occasion that he’d gladly leave the world suffocated by your delicious pussy, but you trust the feigned security he offers. 

“No promises about how long I’ll last, though,” you tell him. 

A gentle pat to your thigh is what has you eventually inching forwards until your knees are on either side of his head. 

With your bump being quite protruding, you can’t even see him anymore, you only hear his groans and growls when you cautiously settle in the new position.

The attempt to slightly hover your pussy over his face is fruitless the moment your husband’s hands fly to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you down onto his face. Just his nose perfectly teasing your clit has you moaning out loudly already, even though he hasn’t even used his tongue yet. 

And then it follows. 

Aemond greedily laps at your entrance as his hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place and playing you like a fiddle. It circles around your clenching hole, teasing it but never one dipping it inside. 

You clench around nothing, and bring one hand to your bump while the other just rests above his hand on your hip, squeezing it. Chasing the friction and warmth of his tongue, you rock your hips back and forth as much as his grip allows, coaxing whimpers and mewls to leave your lips.

“Gods be good,” you whimper, the grip of your thighs around his face tightening. “I–I forgot how good you are at this.”

Seemingly keening at your praise, you’re almost disappointed when he pulls his hand off of yours to cup your ass cheeks, yanking you impossibly closer. The groans that vibrate against your pussy send shivers up your spine that make you lose yourself in the pleasure, not focusing on where his hands are. 

At this point, Aemond was feasting at you like a man starved, all but devouring you with newfound vigor. His nose flicks against your clit with expert precision every time he tilts his head or you move your hips, drawing you closer to your orgasm. 

His index finger comes into play, teasing your throbbing folds for a split second. His true intentions, however, only show the moment it starts to circle around your other hole. 

“Fuck, Aemond, I-” you manage as he carefully dips his finger into your hole, the added stimulation almost immediately tightening the coil in your belly. A muffled groan of appreciation shakes your core as he feels your unused hole tighten around his finger. 

You roll your hips against Aemond’s mouth on the race to completion, any thoughts of being too heavy for him long gone, and replaced by nothing else than raw need and desire. 

It’s almost too much. Straddling the fine line between overwhelming and just the right amount. His nose rubs your clit, his lips lap hungrily at your swollen folds, and his index finger fills you pleasantly – he is redoubling his efforts. 

You keep dragging your hips back and forth in rhythm with his movements, fucking his face on the brink of your release. 

“Oh God, you-you’re so good– Aemond, I’m–I’m–” you ramble, breathy whimpers filling in between the words. 

Hearing him slurp and groan beneath your trembling frame brings a blush to your face and stokes the fire in your belly, the sounds fanning through the room like your moans and whimpers. 

When the coil finally snaps, you throw your head back in ecstasy and clamp your thighs around his head, hot, white pleasure licking its way up your spine. His name topples off your lips more than once, accompanied by desperate mewls and whines. He is relentless, licking you through your orgasm. 

You don’t wait long enough for the aftershocks to fully subside, the overstimulation of his tongue dragging through your folds becoming too much, and cup your pregnant belly as you heave your frame off of his face, shifting backwards down his body. 

“Fuck, I–I need you,” you all but beg, eagerly tugging on the collar of his black shirt. 

Aemond seems to share your enthusiasm, and is quick to sit up again, meeting your lips for a deep kiss. Only when you cup his cheeks do you feel that they’re covered in your arousal, the taste of you on his tongue clouding your mind. 

Your belly is between you again, but Aemond manages to swiftly undo the zipper in the front of his slacks nevertheless, and shoves them down just enough to free his aching cock. 

“So desperate for my cock now, mh?” Aemond pants against your lips, a smug smirk tugging on the corners. 

His hand wraps around his stiff member, fisting himself raw twice, thrice, before another pat served to your thigh encourages you to raise your hips. He aligns himself with your soaked entrance, and you feel his tip prodding gingerly at it. 

As you sink down on him, your hands tightly gripping the collar of his shirt, you release a shuddered breath. Your husband, on the other hand, escapes a relieved groan, his head tipping back for a moment. 

With your limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you bow your head forwards, lowering yourself on him until he is balls deep inside of you. “Mh, fuck, you didn’t even bother to take off your pants,” you taunt, “so desperate to be inside me.”

Aemond’s words die on his tongue as you start to sensually roll your hips over his, the added weight of the bump not allowing you to bounce up and down on him with the vigor you had used before your pregnancy. 

But your husband doesn’t seem to mind, his eyes journeying into the back of his head at the sensation. 

Moving his hands to grope and grasp at every inch of your body, they eventually settle on your full breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples between his nimble fingers while you unravel astride him. It prompts you to arch your back, all but shoving your breasts into his face. 

“So fucking good,” he grunts, embracing it and wrapping his lips around your pert nipple while his arms snake around your body. 

He licks and sucks at your little bud like he has done with your pussy before, and, just judging by the smacking and humming sounds he makes, it’s possible there ooze a few droplets of milk out of it. 

Aemond places his feet firmly on the ground, and starts to buck his hips up into yours, seemingly impatient for his own release as he meets the sensual rolls of your hips and bullies the spongy spot inside of you with more determination. 

Loud, wet sounds from where your bodies meet echo off the walls, indistinct to you with all you can focus on being his lips at your heavy breasts, and his cock deep inside of you. 

You bite your bottom lip and stop the rolling of your hips, making it evident that you were close to your orgasm. The tingling at the base of your spine makes it impossible to move any further and you rely on him to take over. 

Aemond pulls back and watches you gleefully as the force of his thrusts makes your body squirm and jerk, eagerly anticipating you to topple over the edge for the second time. 

“You’re gonna cum on my cock already?” he asks, almost mockingly. 

You frantically nod, breathing a yes.

His hands come to your hips, and with his fingers digging into your flesh, he drags your hips back and forth, your clit rubbing against the hem of his shirt with each movement. You’re not able to gasp more than yeses and pleases, clenching tightly around him. 

The intensity of his thrusts increases while you have stopped moving, toes curling as the taut string inside of you snaps without a warning and white stars cloud your vision. 

“Mh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, clawing at his shoulders as you ride out your high, grinding and rolling your hips against his. Your walls clamp around him like a vice, and he chokes on a husky groan. “Oh God, I love you.“

And even though your orgasm subsides slowly, Aemond refuses to slow down, keeping his heedless pace and pursuing his own completion. 

He has his lips around your other nipple by now, sucking and nibbling on it, the vibrations of his groans coursing through your veins. “Daddy, mh, cum for me, please,” you whine, desperate for his cum. 

Your body, however, contradicts your words and moans, your thighs squeezing his in a desperate attempt to stop him from pounding into your overstimulated pussy – but to no avail. 

“God, please.”

His pace is as reckless and merciless as before, his cock all but forcing its way in and out of your quivering walls as he doesn’t listen to your desperate pleas.

Pulling back from your nipple with a lewd pop, a string of saliva connects the dark areola and his swollen lips as he gazes up at you with half-lidded eyes. “Hush now, Mommy,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss you. The nickname coaxes a smug smirk on his lips. “Taking me so well, such a good girl for Daddy.” With just his praise, a warmth overtakes your body that drowns out the burning, your chest swelling. 

You sling your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in the silver strands of his hair in a way that is destined to ruin the little updo he had put it in this morning. 

“Mh, fuck, I’m gonna–” his words are cut off with a stutter of his hips, and he feels his throbbing cock spill deep inside of you. 

You ride him through his high with lazy rolls of your hips, biting through the overstimulation, and clench and unclench around him as you milk him for every drop of his seed. 

If he hadn’t gotten you pregnant already, he surely would have knocked you up after this. 

Aemond languidly fucks up into you now as the last spurts of his warm release fill you to the brim, grunting and groaning until the euphoria fades. 

He collapses on the bed, a blissed out expression on his face, and reaches to trace his fingers over the swell of your bump up to the curve of your breasts. Rolling the darkened buds between them, he smirks as he watches you squirm, his softening cock still buried inside of you. 

“You know,” he starts, folding one arm behind his head. His voice is softer than before, but has a teasing edge to it. “I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew by now what we’ve been up to.”

You laugh breathlessly and plant your hands on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over it. “But at least they don’t have to worry about you getting me pregnant by accident,” you tease. 

“True enough,” he chuckles softly, “Fuck, I’m–I just can’t help myself. Seeing your body swell just because of my seed fucking does something to me.”

His words make you blush, and you appreciatively run your hands over your bump. 

You lean forwards and cup his face, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He smirks against your mouth, and subconsciously bucks his hips into yours as he feels you clench around him. 

With a groan rumbling in his chest, he pulls back. Something dark flickers in his eyes, his intentions evident when he speaks again. 

“Once our boy’s born, I’ll make quick work of making you a mother of two.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @nockerin @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @goldyfishsstuff @connorsui @ammo23

#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #hotd modern au #modern!houseofthedragon #modern!aemondtargaryen #modern!hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #hotd x you #hotd x reader #house of the dragon aemond #modern aemond x you #modern!aemond x you #ewan nation #ewan mitchell #aemond stannies #aemond targaryen x female reader #house of the dragon fic

[daemontargaryenwhore]

"two scared children spouting oaths they didn’t understand. all that was left of the mighty house targaryen."

#house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #hotd #hotd fanart #hotd oc #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon season 2 #hotd fanfic #hotd art #hotd aegon #hotd au #hotd edit #hotd fandom #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #hotd fics #hotd masterlist #hotd fluff #hotd imagine #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #ewan mitchell fanfic

[hiatuswhore]

♕ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝐻𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks now. Feedback please!

♕ SUMMARY: Rich like a Lannister, cold like a Stark, and fearsome like a Targaryen. From the ashes, words of the Great House Marison. While many play the Game of Thrones, history plays the game of lies. In this game all play the fool, except one.

♕ WORD COUNT: 2.7K

♕ WARNING: Triggering content briefly, proceed with caution.

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The Viper circles the Lioness, standing in the markets, each donning well-hidden agendas. Offering curt smiles to blanket the evident tension.

“The Princess is a lovely girl. Her enthusiasm for her studies most refreshing. Her favorite is the story of the great Dornish farm girl, (Y/n) Marisol.”

“You mean Princess (Y/n) Targaryen. Formerly Lady (Y/n) of House Marison,” Cersei covers her frown with a dry chuckle. Oberyn chuckles, wetting his lips with a shake of his head.

Your love for your home began on your very first day in the world. Leaving your mother not a blubbering bundle of tears and red skin but wide-eyed and curious. You can recall the sun's hug and the sand's tickle. The many spices and elaborate dances in your visits to Sunspear. Most of all, the quaint solace of your home by the water's edge.

Summers often entailed your brother of six and ten chasing you by the tide. The edge of your skirts made your dress heavy as water soaked the ends, your feet sank lower into the damp sand, your strides clumsy and with haste. Deziel’s laughter booms as your own pierce the air. The shrill sound garnered a smile from your mother, often missed. The coverage of trees shielded the beach from your home, but your mother could make out her children from any distance. Your brother wrestled you down, the sand irritated your neck and dampened your dress, but it mattered little.

“Bend the knee, Dornish scum! Swear subservience to the Targaryen crown or perish!” Deziel’s northern accent as poor as his understanding of the frail peace between your people and the Targaryens. His fingers fiddling at your sides fervently, unrelenting. Your shielded youths evident in your choice of playful jests.

“I swear! I yield!” You cry out between heavy breaths. Tears left you in a fit of laughter that bordered joy and pain.

“What!” Deziel scoffs, his hands leaving you with crazed disbelief. A dopey grin paints your face, squinting up at your brother. His fingers return to your sides, a loud squeal leaving you as he drops his weak accent, “Have you gone mad! Make an oath breaker of yourself at once! We are dornish, wild girl!”

No matter your answer, Deziel would bring the brunt of the Targaryens or the Dornish upon you. A game made only for you to lose. At the orange glow of the sky, you both march home smelling of saltwater. You caked in mud, Deziel always wiping dirt upon his skin, so you both get the whole of your parents' scoldings. Not that Deziel ever had to. With one look at your round cheeks and brown eyes, the voices of your mother and father would soften.

“Not at all. Many stories circulate about Lady (Y/n). Yet many fail to remember that she grew in a time when the people of Dorne were rather petulant to the other six kingdoms. A time Targaryens often terrorized our shores.” Cersei raises an eyebrow at his words. Every lesson taught on history being challenged before her, discounted.

“A false rumor. Histories often altered over time by wrong interpretations. By your admission, you accuse the Great House of Marison to be built upon a lie.” Oberyn’s smile widens, nodding his head to her words without care.

“A great dornish lie.”

You can recall your mother often reminding you both of a debt owed to her by the Prince. If trouble were ever to strike, it was your assurance of safety.

For many years, you lived in a false glimmer that only held joy with no place for despair. With time your brother's responsibilities grew as your mother forced lessons of etiquette and customs down your throat. You never understood what would politeness and formality do for a farm. Still ever the sheltered girl of the Marisol family.

Despite their efforts, an inevitable truth loomed. Not a single place in the world can be sheltered from the horror inflicted by men.

You are no stranger to these horrors.

You can remember the day from the sweet smell of honey bread your mother made. To the seconds before your father and brother's departure. According to your father, a hunts no place for a young lady. Reading between the lines, a long sigh left you, no place for a lady.

Inside, you sat at the family table, huffing at the boring pages your mother put before you. Her instructions were clear. You were free to leave the table once you read the story and could explain it to her. You cannot recall the story, only the dreadfully boring time you spent attempting to read it.

Your head whipped right as your body stiffened. The slam of the door and your mother rushed across the room. Her sudden movements sent your heart into a speedy gallop. She ignored as you called out to her, pulling back the carpet and removing a false panel.

“Mother?” You called out, her hand wrapped around your wrist, ripping you from your seat. She laid you down in the ample space, a kiss on your forehead.

“You do not make a sound, do you understand? Do not come out unless I, your father, or Deziel retrieves you,” Not once had you ever seen your mother cry, but the mist in her eyes was not well hidden. She finally kissed your forehead, muttering her love before she closed you in. The cracks in the floor left you with a slit-like view of above. You squeezed your eyes shut, dust falling over you as heavy steps shook the panels above.

And there it was. Your first true encounter with the Westerosi people. The man held a gruff tone. You bit back a whimper at your mother's cries, fists bawling so tightly that not even the broken skin gave you pause. The groans of strange men and the smacking of flesh forced you to swallow down growing nausea. You were no fool to what occurred above, already a young maiden grown and flowered.

You squeezed your eyes shut, and your nails dug further into your skin. Escaping to your mind with a steady tempo, one, two, three, four…silence halted your count at one thousand two hundred and thirty-seven seconds.

Opening your eyes, you clamped them back shut, red clouded your vision. The warm drips did not cease, so constant drip you believed it would drown you. Even as that plagued you, your mothers' directions were clear.

Deziel pulled you from beneath the boards, shielding your face as he swallowed thickly. Your father's cries filled your home, leaving you without an inkling of its beginning. When it end arrived, the three of you journeyed to Sunspear, typically a two-day trip with stops and games—became a silent day trip. Your father’s movements mechanical, with a refusal to look at either of you. Poor Deziel. He made sure his father ate, and you were clean and cared for.

At Dornish court, if the news of your mothers' murder hurt the ruling Prince, you saw no evidence of it. Much of the conversation between your father and the Prince had been lost on you. You could only recall pieces that made no sense at the time but later clicked without issue. The three of you boarded a ship with men, coin, and servants. You kept your eye on the shore, even when it was long from view.

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen—Velaryon and her husband, Lord Corlys, welcomed the three of you. You can recall the panic the Princess immediately eased as your brother and father parted from you to join Lord Corlys.

“(Y/n) is it? Worry not. You are safe here,” Her accent made you shudder, akin to the one the man in your home had. It would take you weeks to not flinch or tear up at the sound of it. “A dear friend of mine asked to aid you in acquiring a safer life. What comes next will not be easy. You will need to convince the people of the realm that you are a noblewoman. But not just any noblewoman, the very best of them. The prettiest, smartest, and most pristine. You will work far harder than any other in these coming years. Can you do that?”

You did not answer the Princess’s question. Nor were you fully processing all before you. Deziel’s betrothal to Laena Velaryon cleared much of your confusion. The final nail in the coffin to your simple farmer lifestyle. With his bride comes lordship and property, not in Driftmark but in Duskendale, the closest castle to Driftmark. Your father, now a Lord with the respect of an Old Valyrian house and a beautiful daughter without a reputation. No longer bearing the name Marisol, with clear foreign descent but House Marison. A new, smaller house with riches and the favor of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys.

The rapid changes made it all finally click in your mind, your mothers' teachings. Her insistence on your education and understanding of etiquette and the functions of royal courts. She hoped for the best and expected the worst, and the very worst arrived.

“Princess Aliandra kept a book where she often documented her days. She detailed meeting her father's beloved family friend and their time together. The Princess described her friend as having a brown complexion. Light during her travels from the north and dark during her time in the south. Beautiful brown coils of hair. Princess Alisandra believed many of her friend's attributes came from her father, born in the isle of butterflies. Today known as Naath.”

Not a dime was spared in the erasure of your history. Your golden complexions and coily hair, a feat that cannot be removed. But your accents ripped from you with blood and tears. The crack against your back leaves you gnawing your bottom lip. Hot tears flood you, your septa calling for you to continue to read the story.

“The year continued without further crisis or test as Jaehaerys and Alyssane—“ You fail to stop the cry that leaves your lips as your septa draws blood. Gripping the edges of the book tightly, your toes curl as a shaky breath leaves you.

“You cry now, but this will be nothing if the crown ever learns how you aim to deceive them. You must forget this savage dialect and move forward, Lady Marison. Do you understand?” Septa Oleyna offers you a knowing look. She wears a natural grimace, nudging her head toward the book. Nodding, you turn back to the book, another cry leaving your lips at the crack against your back. “Understand?”

“Yes, Septa Oleyna.”

Your days continue like this until your accent fades into a distant memory. The dialect sour on your tongue, the Targaryens chipping away at another piece of your beloved culture. Every aspect of Westeros bores you. The clothing dull, the food bland, and the women docile. You cannot help but wonder if your father or Deziel share your sentiment. If they do, it never shows.

While you grow to accept your new reality, your quest for the truth of the past does not cease. At first, your father's not forthcoming when you inquire about the dealings behind the attack on your previous home. Still, you did not relent even at your brothers' pleas for you to drop it.

The news is unveiled at a private dinner between the three of you. Your fathers' mood already sour, and before you knew it, he was spewing the reality in a fit of rage. By order of the crown, soldiers were sent to Dorne to remind the Dornish that attempts at an uprising would prove foolish. A premature act of aggression. Your father storms from the room, slamming the hall door behind him. Deziel’s eyes soften, and he places his hand atop your own. A comfort far too small to dim the growing flames.

Coals sit in your throat, twisting and burning akin to hell fire. You do not wail or collapse into your emotions as expected. A grimace consumes you with an ire that sets your skin ablaze. The brutalization of your mother and destruction of your family not an act of politics but a personal slight.

“So you truly believe the Targaryens and the Northerners allowed a dornish family to settle and form a house built on false names and histories?” This time Cersei chuckles, shaking her head. Oberyn’s confidence did not falter.

“How can one allow or disallow a deception they are unaware of? You see, in Dorne, we sing songs and tell the tales of the great (Y/n) Marisol because she did what many of you believe is not possible today?”

“And what’s that?”

“She took your customs and expectations, outdoing every noble lady in the realm. A little dornish girl with Dragons in her palm. They terrorized our lands, and she made them pay for it.”

As the others prepare for your brother's pending nuptials, you immerse yourself into Septa Oleyna’s process. Your lessons come with fewer tears, resentment a great motivator in your education. Not only in doing away with your accent but the history of Westeros and every bit of information available on the living royal family. Even taking the time to study High Valyrian before bed.

The weeks pass you rapidly, (Y/n) Marisol long gone with Lady Marison’s machinations growing. Deeming you ready, your father brings you along during his travels across the realm. He introduces you to Lords when the opportunities present themselves. You master the art of knowing when to speak and when to remain silent. What topics to broach and what others wish to hear. With each passing moon, your ability to read others growing sharper than a blade's edge.

Every feast. Every great house. And every appearance makes every tear and drop of blood worth it. Doing what girls train years for and often never achieve in mere months. Perfection. The word spreads like wildfire.

Lady Marison. Ward of Princess Rhaenys. Beautiful. Smart. Reputable. A perfect bride in all categories. You masquerade with poise, a Dornish girl exceeding in all they deem above you, above your people.

Dragonstones, unlike your other destinations. On the ships, your father reiterates the danger a mishap can hold. No longer will you be in the presence of Lords but Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne.

“Put your trust in me, father. I work only to secure our safety,” You say. No fool to Lord Corlys and Rhaenys protection being minuscule against the truth sweeping the realm.

The Princess of greets Lord Corlys, your father, and yourself, with presumably her entire family. Three dark-haired boys and two silver hair babes. At her side stands a tall looming man, doing little to hide his boredom. Corlys greets his “grandsons” with large smiles before beginning introductions.

“It is an honor, your grace,” Curtsying, like all the others you push a broad smile to your face. Your eyes squint while beaming at whomever you address.

“I have heard much about you, Lady Marison. Your reputation proceeds you,” As does yours. During your time at Driftmark, Laena made sure you knew every inch of it. The history, good and bad, every little detail of her family to prepare you for the pending wedding—and portraits of her brother. Of the three Velaryon boys, not a single one took Laenors likeness.

“The gossip speaks far too highly of me,” Feigning humility, you smile and nod as your mind resides elsewhere. No longer rumors, the truth standing before you. A female heir with bastard sons and younger brothers. Your gaze cuts to the Rogue Prince, his eyes not leaving you. Offering a curt nod, his eyes merely cut to your father's. The same scrutiny in his eyes.

“Your accusations against the history of House Marison deem almost every great house illegitimate. A Marison can be found in the lineage of all the houses. Even—“ The Queen pauses, her hands clutching her necklace. Oberyn clasps his hands in front of him, a knowing smile on his lips.

“(Y/n) Stark née (Y/n) Marison the second, grandmother of Eddard Stark. Nadia Tyrell née Nadia Marison. The Arryns, Tully’s—“ Still, the Queen stares off aimlessly, a blank resolve leaving much to the imagination.

“Are you reaching a point, my prince?”

“A Marison can be found in all histories. In mine, your sons, even yours. Joanna Lannister née Joanna Marison.”

#house of dragons #house of the dragon #house of dragons imagine #house of the dragon imagine #house of dragons au #house of the dragons au #oberyn martell #oberyn martell imagine #aemond targaryen #Aemond targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen imagine #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon imagine #lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon imagine #rhaenyra targaryen #Rhaenyra targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine #alicent hightower #Alicent Hightower imagine #helaena targaryen #helaena targaryen imagine #cregan stark #cregan stark imagine #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones au #cersei lannister #Cersei Lannister imagine

[wweskywalker]

"I need my golden crown of sorrow. My bloody sword to swing. My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology. I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king."

L-R: Alicent, Rhaenyra, Rhaena, Rhaenys, Baela, Laena

commissioned by the lovely @raybyanothername 👑❤️‍🔥

#alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #rhaenys the queen who never was #rhaena targaryen #rhaena of pentos #baela targaryen #laena velaryon #fanart #art #asoiaf #game of thrones #asoiaf art #targaryen #house targaryen #artist #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #hotd #au #open commission #artwork commissions #commission open #commissioned art #open commission artist #artist on tumblr

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter(?)!Reader // PART TWO

Here is the long awaited part 2! Though it is shorter than the last one, ik i said I'll publish this after my exams but i got a sudden burst of motivation, also there likely won't be any further parts!

MDNI

WARNINGS: p in v sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, age gap (9ish years), lactation kink, pregnancy kink(?), tiddy sucking, fingering, fluff, slight angst, giving birth, past trauma experience, + not proof read.

WC: 3.8k

« part one // 🎄 special »

You woke up this morning tired from the activities of last night, you stirred in your sleep which woke aemond up as he unwrapped his hands around you and rubbed his eyes, “Good morning bunny.” he tells you, voice deep and hoarse and you mumble a good morning back before placing a kiss on his face.

It has been a few months since then, becoming officially a part of Aemond's family, though you and Aemond were not married yet, you both acted like a married couple anyway, he called you his wife rather than referring to you as his girlfriend.

You had moved into his house, fetching all the things you needed from your old apartment and shifting to his house, Aenys was more than happy, he constantly referred to you as mama now.

Today was Aemond's day off, which is why he was still in bed with you today, lazing around and basking in your comfort, but to be honest he literally owns everything and can take breaks whenever he wants but he doesn't do that, wanting to remain punctual.

You both get off the bed and go get ready, today you were going to a daycare centre to get Aenys to finally join and mingle with friends around his age, Aemond had rejected this idea when you suggested it, but with enough convincing from your side he agreed, he was still reluctant as hell, bring overprotective of his son.

Aemond had also offered to pay for your tuition since you said you wanted to pursue further education, but you denied it feeling as if it's too much but he insisted, and he eventually got his way in the end, he basically fucked his way to it.

Your classes would start next week, and since you and Aemond would be gone, Aenys would once again be alone in the house, and Aemond didn't want to hire another babysitter, you had also used this point to convince him to put Aenys in a daycare.

You both quickly got ready, throwing on some casuals and went to Aenys' room to wake him up, Aemond went to the kitchen to cook breakfast for the three of you while you got Aenys ready for the day, and as usual, he was on his best behaviour. You placed a small kiss to his nose which made him giggle, before picking him up and going outside his room, towards the kitchen and the dining area, you had noticed how the food had already been set and aemond was bringing in the utensils before he placed them down. You put Aenys down on his chair before pecking Aemond on the lips and you three sat there and ate.

The drive to the daycare was relatively small, only a few minutes. You could tell Aemond was nervous, seeing him tap the car steer repeatedly, a habit you had noticed. Aenys was sitting in the back side as you engaged in a conversation with him.

“I'm swooo excited! I hope it's fun!!!” he yelled enthusiastically and you chuckled, “I'm sure it will be fun, Aenys.” and just like that, you have already reached the daycare centre.

It was big, of course it would be, it's the rich kids version.

You got out of the car first and opened the backdoor to fetch Aenys, and his little cute bag he wore on his back, he was jumping up and down in excitement, and Aemond reluctantly got out of his own car and sighed heavily.

You watched as a few parents came out of their cars as well, basically dropping their kids off, and soon you and Aemond went to do the same.

Aenys was hesitant to let go of your hand first, the teacher had encouraged him to come but he hid behind your leg and covered himself from view due to shyness, you bent down to his level and comforted him, giving him reassurance and to your surprise Aemond also did the same thing, telling him it will be okay, and just then did Aenys let go of your hand and went to the teacher, before she led him inside

This moment made you tear up, watching him go on his own world and then you heard a shaky breath, and looked to your side.

Aemond was trying to contain his emotions, probably scared that something might happen to him, you took your hand in his before rubbing it reassuringly, and he held yours tightly in comfort.

You both stood there for a moment before making your way back to the car.

“What if something happens to him?” Aemond speaks up suddenly, voice laced with concern and you look at him, “Nothing will happen Aemond, I'm sure he'll be fine. You can't just keep him locked away forever.” you reply.

“You're right… it's just-” he sighs heavily.

“I can understand, it must be tough.” you held his hand in yours and he looked at you, and gave you a small smile, before he got inside the car, you went around and got in.

Everything went fine that week, and life began to move, you got into your university of choice and with the major you had chosen in child psychology, classes were going well.

Luckily, you and Aenys' hours matched perfectly, You would drop him off at daycare before going to your university, and then pick him up, Aemond's however were still the same.

But for an odd reason, a few days into your classes you started feeling heavily nauseous, even throwing up sometimes. At first you thought it was due to stress but then you noticed how sensitive your breasts had become, and how your period was late.

You went to pick up Aenys, waiting outside the car while he rushed out of the building with his friends, he was smiling, his baby teeth on full display and it made your heart warm up, his eyes lit up even more when he spotted you, saying goodbye to his friend before he ran over to you and you picked him up, giving him a kiss on the head, “Mama! I want to sit in the front today!!” he said and you reluctantly agreed, not being able to say no to his puppy eyes, you carefully seated him in the front seat before securing the seatbelt and then got into the otherside to drive off.

You usually go home straight after this but you went to the pharmacy and got pregnancy tests, yes tests, multiple cause you really wanted to be sure.

After reaching home, you put Aenys to nap, not before feeding him lunch and then you finally relaxed, knowing he was fast asleep in his room, you immediately took out the pregnancy tests before going to the bathroom to run the tests.

You wait on the bathroom seat, waiting for the tests to load up, legs bouncing in nervousness as you watch the three tests take their time to process and show the results.

Your eyes darted to the first one and you felt your heart leap in your throat, and then the second, and then the third.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

You did not know how to feel, you had mixed feelings about this. You were happy but also not at the same time.

Waiting for Aemond to get home had never felt more agonising.

Time felt like it moved extremely slowly, You were left alone with your nerves, Aenys was napping for longer than usual, or at least it was what it felt like. You scrolled through your phone not knowing if you should text him. You knew he was probably busy, and announcing that you're pregnant didn't seem appropriate, but you couldn't wait until night for his presence.

‘Aemond?

Can you please come home as soon as your work allows you to?’

You text him that.

You honestly expected him to be home a few hours later and not in just half an hour.

He bursted through the front door, slamming it behind him, making you panic thinking you had an intruder but it was just him.

“What happened?” he asks you, voice concerned as he grips your shoulders tightly. You snap out of your shock and hold his arms, before you lead him to the bedroom.

He waits anxiously as he watches you go into the bathroom and bring out one of the tests and show it to him.

He freezes.

Eye darting up at you and the test.

Breathing growing heavy as he processes what you're showing to him, you're taken aback when he yanks you forward and presses his lips tightly against yours, the test drops from your hand and soon, you're pressed up against the near wall as Aemond continues to kiss you, hand trailing up your shirt, pulling your bra down before pawing at your breast.

You hiss into his mouth at the sensitivity and he slowly massages it, thumb tracing over your nipple, rubbing circles as he shoves his tongue inside your mouth when you gasp.

He grinds his hip against yours, and you can feel how hard he is, bulge pressing against you, he pulls away with a wet click, breathing heavily, you can see by the way his eyes shine brightly that he is happy, looking at you with so much adoration, his lips trail down your neck, pressing kisses there and you gasp, hands entangled in his hair.

He pulls back slightly before undoing his pants, still in his suit having arrived from work just a few moments ago, he removes his coat before letting it fall on the ground and then his tie, unbuttoning a few buttons of his shirt. Then he presses against you once again, kissing you so desperately before grabbing you by your thighs and lifting you, you wrap your legs around him to maintain balance.

Just like that he pulls you off the wall and takes you over to the bed, laying you down on it as he hands work to undo your clothes, pulling off your top and bottoms, leaving you only in underwear, but soon that's off too, and now you were fully bare to the the world.

It was arousing, watching him be fully clothed while you had nothing covering you, leaving you feeling slightly vulnerable. He pulls his cock out of its confinement and gives it some pumps.

He spreads your legs apart, revealing your folds to him, burning holes into the sight, and then he enters inside, you moan so loudly at the intrusion, that he has his hand slapping over your mouth once again, “Be quiet, what if he hears?” he hisses softly and you felt an extreme amount of deja vu but you nodded, biting your lip, gripping the sheets below as arch your back.

And just as he was about to start moving, you hear Aenys, knocking on the door.

“Mum!! Are you okay?” you hear his voice and Aemond quickly pulls out, “Fuck, seven hells.” groaning, annoyed by the intrusion and plops down on the bed next to you, and you put on your clothes as fast as you can, before fixing your hair and opening the door.

“Momma! I heard you screaming, are you okay.” he asks, his eyes looking at you with such concern and you smile at him gently, trying to ignore the heat in your face due to embarassment, and nod, Aemond appears behind you and Aenys is surprised to see him.

“Papa's home!” he beams brightly and Aemond picks him up, “Did you not have work papa?” he asks and Aemond answers with a quick no.

“Your mother called me for an emergency. So I rushed over.” He answers and Aenys looks at you concerned.

“What happened mama?” he looks at you, asking you a question, eyebrows raising in concern as his voice becomes less hearable at the end, worried that you were badly hurt.

“Nothing too serious Aenys, it's just that- you know how you told me you always wanted a sibling?” you ask and he nods, “Well, you are getting one, I'm pregnant.” and he squeals in joy.

“Right now?!!!” he asks, which makes you and Aemond chuckle, “Not right now, it will take time.” Aemond tells him and Aenys pouts, “But I can't wait that long!” he sulks and you chuckle.

Aemond didn't know what happened to him the moment you started to swell, the proof of his seed taking as your womb stretched to accommodate the growing foetus, which inevitably caused your tummy to grow, drove him mad.

You looked so pretty with his child in your belly, you were still taking classes, Aemond had requested for them to be conducted online as you cannot travel back and forth, he didn't want to risk your comfort and travelling too much can cause stress for you.

You were 6 months along, and Aenys often talked to your belly, saying things like 'I can't wait for you to come out! I have my toys, hopefully you'll like them!' And then rubbing your stomach. Though he was extremely confused at first, at how a literal human being is growing inside you.

Aemond can never take his hands off your bump, he would rest his head on it gently, press a few kisses and tell the unborn baby how much he loves them, he sometimes dozes off on it, feeling comforted.

He became more physical, well not like he was any less physical, but it was becoming more noticeable and desparate now.

Which led to the moment now.

Him pounding himself deep into you, not hard enough to hurt you but just enough as his hand is placed on your belly gently, caressing the bump before it makes its way up towards your breast, playing with the nipple and pulling on it.

Your hands were held behind your back, face pushed down unto the bed as he took you from behind, watching as your body kept jolting and the moans helplessly leaving your mouth.

“F-fuck Aemond I'm close!” you whimper and he grunts, “Cum for me baby, soak my cock.” he responded and that was enough for you to just reach your peak.

You moaned loudly into the room, and soon after, he came too, spilling himself inside you and pulling out, you quickly turned on your back and laid in exhaustion, hand resting on the bump as you breathed in deeply.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks concerned but you shake your head no, “No, I'm just tired.” you tell him and he places a kiss on your forehead before cleaning both you and himself up.

The pains you felt were unbearable, the contractions being extremely painful as you tried to breath in, just like the nurses had instructed, and you pushed as much as you can, gripping the sheets and Aemond's hand tightly, it hurt for him but he knew you were in more pain than him.

You huffed in exhaustion, not being able to push anymore, eyes drooping off into slumber, sweat covering you, the pain was keeping you awake but making you weak at the same time, and the moment Aemond saw how your grip loosened on his hand, he panicked.

His soul left his body in that moment for a second.

No way.

Please gods no.

Not her.

Not her as well.

His lone eye widened, as his mind raced.

Truth be told, when you were nearing the final month of your pregnancy, he became more paranoid, wondering if you'll suffer the same fate as Alys, and he didn't want that, and yet the scene in front of him was pointing exactly in that direction.

Maybe he was cursed.

Maybe any woman that gives birth to his children is doomed.

A thousand thoughts flowed in and out.

Until he felt your grip tighten again, accompanied by a loud scream as you gave the final push, your ears were ringing and your head spinning, but soon everything was silenced by the sound of a newborn baby crying.

“It's a girl.” they announced.

You let out a shaky breath as you watched in tiredness while the doctors cleaned the baby up and tended to you, before giving the baby to you, you smiled at her, the babe now more calm and cooing.

You noticed her white tuft of hair atop of her head, smiling at the fact that she got her father's looks, and you turned to look at Aemond who seemed to be in daze.

You were alive.

He was happy that the baby was born, but he was more happier that you made it out alive.

“What do you wish to name her?” Your tired voice asks him and he snaps out of his daze, taking in his daughter's features.

Though she is yet to grow to her full features, Aemond already knew that she was already resembling him, her eyes opened to reveal the purple, which was currently resembling almost a dark shade as the baby was just born.

“Daenys.” He answers and you smile.

“Such a pretty name, similar to Aenys.” you comment and he smiles.

It had already been a year since that day, the day Daenys was born, and she was already turning one, Aemond got all emotional, shedding a few tears at the pictures of her first birthday before his attentions snaps to her running around with her brother Aenys, or more like tries to run, it's just her speed waddling considering how she only learnt to walk recently.

You can clearly tell Aemond has a hard time accepting that his kids are growing up.

“Baaaaa Awenys!” She babbles his name in frustration and he giggles before stopping and letting her come to him. Aenys was such a good older brother, he was already protective of his sister, not letting any harm come her way.

“Be careful Daenys.” he watches as you go up to them and sit down with them, probably having finished your online classes. Aemond shifted his office to his house, mostly working from home since he decided he wanted to spend more time with his family, especially his wife.

Yes, wife.

You both got married soon after.

He decided to finally go through with his plan.

And he had never been so happy in his entire life.

You watched as Aenys took his sister in his playroom and started playing with her, sharing his toys, you smiled at the heart warming sight before coming over to sit next to Aemond on the couch.

“Feels like only yesterday I gave birth to her.” you tell him, noticing the pictures he took on her 1st birthday.

He leans his head against your shoulder, breathing your scent in, “Hmm.” he hums, agreeing with you.

“I want one that has your features.” the words slip from his mouth before he can stop them and you look at him, “I mean- both aenys and daenys look like me, or at least, have my features, I want a kid that has yours, your [hair-color] coloured hair.” he lifts his head up and caresses your hair, you give him a smile.

“What are we waiting for then?” you tease and his eye widens before he smirks too.

“I'll call my mother to pick them up.” he says hurriedly, way too excited and quickly dials her number which makes you huff out a laugh.

Getting some alone time with kids around is tough, and getting some action while at it? Nope not happening.

It's not like Aemond blamed the kids for it, but he missed you, he often reminisced about the days in the past where he would fuck you on every surface possible when Aenys was asleep or not around, but now he isn't able to do that anymore, considering you both got busy with kids and work.

And the way motherhood suited you so much only made it worse, he has to constantly not think about wanting to get you pregnant over and over again, he loves it way too much for it to be normal, though he doesn't rob you of your independence.

Aenys and Daenys were so confused when Alicent came to pick them up, she gave you a knowing smirk and you blushed slightly, Aenys refused to go but Alicent somehow convinced him and so they went.

And now you both are alone.

Aemond had your hands tied above your hand and he took his sweet time with your body, kissing every inch that he missed for the past few months, savouring each and every little moment, the way his mouth would latch on to your nipple, leaking your sweet milk into his mouth, and he moans at the taste.

Though you had weaned off Daenys just recently, you still produced some amount of milk for a bit until your body had to adjust and realise that it shouldn't produce milk anymore since you aren't feeding anymore, and with Aemond now suckling it seems it might take a while.

“Fuck it tastes so divine.” he asserts, his hand moving up and down your body, giving the other breast a squeeze, and then he went lower and lower, fingers parting your folds as he dipped them inside, smirking at feeling how wet you were and you squirmed.

He started pumping them inside and out, watching as you gasped, hands struggling in their tied up state, he continued to suckle on your breast before shifting to the other one to do the same.

As you reach your peak on his fingers, he deattaches himself and pulls his fingers out, giving them a long sensual lick, before shoving them into your mouth, and you obey his silent command, sucking on it.

He pulls them out and his hands grap the underside of your thighs and lifts your hips, settling in a position where your legs rested on his shoulder as he entered in one swift motion, morning when he felt the ridge of your wall, he thrusted up into you violently, making you moan out loud and struggle to keep your hands still, nails digging into your own flesh at the pleasure being given to you.

He closed his eyes when he felt you clench around him, trying to stop himself from cumming before you, though it seemed to fail when he heard you let out a moan of his name, he grunted and spilled himself inside you, but continued to move, his hand rubbed circles unto your clit, urging you to reach your orgasm and you do.

“Fuck! Aem!” you throw your head back, as it hits you as a shock, electricity travelling up your body.

And that was the night Aenys' and Daenys' little sibling, a girl, once again, Aelora, was created.

Just like Aemond had hoped, she was born with your features, though she had one purple eye and one of your eye colour.

Aemond was content with his life, and you are finally pursuing your career and maintaining a healthy balance between work and life.

Everything was perfect.

———

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

DM TO BE REMOVED!

PART TWO TAGLIST:

@marihoneywk @nightdiamond866 @targaryenmoony @siriusdumblittlepuppy @givemeeverything

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond x reader smut #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #reader insert #x reader #x reader smut #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fic #modern au

[bismutting]

more modern au rhaenyra :] trying to decide if she's a part of the football team or the rugby team. either way she's a jock YAY

#alicent gave her the bandaid clearly #rhaenyra targaryen #modern au #hotd #fanart #house of the dragon #emma d'arcy #my art

[drakoneve]

A Dragon's Wrath

Request: hello hello, how are u? Idk if u write for Harwin Strong, but I'm obsessed with this man, so if you're not taking requests for him, forgive me for being rude. So I wanted to make a request where the reader is the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, also daughter of Aemma and Viserys. She married Strong, and lives a dream life with him (they love each other very much, so please, Rhaenyra's children are not his 🫠) and the legitimacy of their children was questioned, of course the queen would never imagine that Harwin had a birthmark, which none of his brothers inherited from Lyonel, he being the only one to have it and ALL THE CHILDREN OF HARWIN AND THE PRINCESS HAVE THAT SAME BRAND, JUST LIKE THE FATHER'S. Maybe I went on too long and was stupid, sorry, you can do whatever comes to your brilliant mind, I just really wish the legitimacy of the children of the OC was proved by legal means and gave no right to be questioned even by the queen. Thank you for your attention, I understand if you don't want to do it 🤍.

pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey

a/n: first harwin fic, harwin girlies lmk what you think!! for the sake of this fic, Rhae's children have Targaryen silver hair

In all the years the pair were married, King Viserys and Queen Aemma were blessed by the Mother with only two healthy, living babes. First born has been your elder sister Rhaenyra, whom you followed two years later.

Growing up the two of you remained close through your lessons and dragon riding, but as Rhaenyra grew older she would end up spending more and more time with her lady in waiting Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra and Alicent being two of the only other girls your age in the Red Keep and their refusal to have anyone join them in their activities, you felt somewhat dejected by your sister's budding friendship.

This is what led you to find solace in the Red Keep's training yards. Day after day you watched knights, and knights in training, battle it out in the yard while you worked on your studies. It was there in the yard you saw him for the first time- your future husband, Ser Harwin Strong.

At the time you had no idea you would end up marrying him, of course, but you should have.

You'd heard all about Ser Harwin Breakbones, son of Lyonel Strong, one of your father's most loyal council men. Harwin's reputation truly preceded him and was rightfully earned.

You hadn't noticed it at the time, but you'd abonded your books and parchments in the stands by your supervising Septa as you approached the rail separating the stands and the training yard in an attempt for a clearer view.

Harwin stood taller than his opponents, shoulders back, sword in hand ready to defend himself. He watched his opponents carefully, calculating their next move. His short brown curls were halfway pulled back out of his face with a tie, exposing Harwin's jawline, much to your own enjoyment.

That afternoon you watched Harwin take down man after man without so much as a proper blow to his own body. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his arm in fluid, rushing movements.

When he had finally finished for the evening you applauded him, finally grabbing his attention as he had held yours.

"You are quite the swordsman, Ser Harwin!" you call out to him. "I feel much better knowing there are knights as skilled as you protecting my home."

Harwin grinned largely at your praise, twirling his sword in his hand for show as he approached the rail you supported yourself on. "I mean only to ensure you are safe at all times, my princess."

You smiled down at him now that he was almost right below you. "Well I have no doubts of your capabilities, Ser. I have a feeling you will do great things here, should you wish."

"You are too kind, princess," he chuckles. Then he looks up at the sky, towards the sun on it's way to set. "It is getting quite late, princess. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?"

The excitement and hopefulness in his face brought butterflies to your stomach.

"I would like nothing more, Ser."

After that night it was scarce the two of you weren't side by side, which all but pushed your fathers to wed the two of you.

Now you stood in those same stands, watching Harwin in the yard yet again, but now he's joined by your two eldest sons. Maevor has just passed his tenth and second name day, and Daeragon his ninth. Your two youngest babes, however remained with you and your maid and close friend, Malina.

Malina had first been assigned to you after your marriage to Harwin, and she'd stood loyally by your side as you birthed all of your children.

Malina's elder brother Ellion, a knight of the City Watch, stood closeby on the order of Harwin. He'd been one of Harwin's best men as you'd heard him compliment the younger knight on many occasions in the past. Being a Targaryen princess and wife of the Lord Commander in such uncertain times in the house of the dragon could be dangerous, and Harwin meant only to protect you and your babes.

Your first daughter, eldest of your month old twins, Naelora cooed softly in your arms as she played with the loose sleeve ends of your dress. You indulged her for a moment, raising your arm to lift the sleeve from her reach to tease her.

She gurgles in laughter, stretching her chubby little arms to grasp your sleeve once more.

The moment is over by the approach of Queen Alicent's lady in waiting, Talya.

"My apologies, Princess," Talya bows to you first. "But the Queen has requested Malina's presence for this afternoon."

Why would the queen need Malina specifically? Surely she could find another maid within the Keep to aid her?

Malina looks to you, pale brown eyes silently asking to stay. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, of course. After giving birth to your second son Daeragon, Queen Alicent began requesting Malina's presence more often.

Still sore from your labors, Harwin had taken the day off to aid you and watch over Maevor to allow you to rest.

You watched happily from your spot on the bed as Harwin held little Daeragon, to introduce him to his elder brother. Maevor, a boy of three years, stood as high as he could on his toes to get a peek over Harwin's bulk of an arm to get a glimpse of his brother.

Then your chamber doors open and Malina returns to your side after serving the queen all day. She approaches the foot of your bed, hands clasped together in front of her with her eyes cast slightly downwards.

"Malina, you needn't worry about me," you begin to dismiss her kindly. "I'm sure the Queen-"

But Malina shakes her head, brown curls following her, still refusing to meet your gaze. "I need to speak with you, Princess. And you, Lord Harwin, in privacy."

You share a concerned look with Harwin, who's joyfulness has been replaced with worry. In the time she's served you Malina had never been afraid to look you in your eyes.

He wastes no time escorting Maevor to his chambers just off your own, and placing little Daeragon in his crib next to your side of the bed. Harwin returns and stands dutifully on the other side of you as if protecting you.

"What is it?" you ask, and pat the bed in front of you for Malina to sit.

Malina makes no move to sit on your bed. "My princess," her voice wavers nervously. "I have served your for near half a decade now, and I know you to be the most true and kind person I have ever had the pleasure of serving-"

"Malina," Harwin interrupts sternly. "Speak it plain, what have you heard of my wife?"

Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you instinctively reached for Harwin's hand. He intertwined his fingers with your in an attempt to comfort you.

Malina takes in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet your gaze. "Queen Alicent requested my presence after your labors today for questioning."

"Questioning?" you tilted your head slightly. "About what?"

"Your sons," she answered swiftly. "She... She wanted to know if this babe looked like Harwin or..."

Harwin pulled his hand from yours, placing it on the hilt of his sword. "Or who, Malina?"

"Ellion," Malina whispers. "The Queen seems to believe that you spend too much time with Ellion, princess. She asked if I knew of any relations between the two of you, but I swore to her you are deathly loyal and would never-"

You move from your spot on the bed to bring yourself to stand. Harwin aids you as you steady yourself, then reach for Malina's forearm.

"You needn't explain yourself to me, Malina," you assure her. "I know you to be true to me, and you are one of the kindest ladies I know. You should go, retire for the night. We shall do the same."

Malina apologizes the whole way out your chamber doors despite your assurances. Harwin begins to strip his armor as you settle yourself back into bed.

Daeragon's crib sat just off the side of your bed, close enough for you to have a view of the newborn's little face.

Harwin soon joins your side clad in his nightclothes. You can feel his gaze on you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Emotions ran rampant through you. You knew it must be the strain and high emotions of you and your new babe surviving the day, but you couldn't stop the rush.

It's when the tears begin to fall from your lilac eyes that Harwin wraps you up in his arms and pulls you back against him.

"My love," he cooes. "Sweet girl, do not worry yourself with the opinion of a misguided, jealous woman."

He raises his right hand to show off the inside of his right wrist, showing off the small, discolored patch of skin he inherited from his father, Lord Lyonel. A small, almost missable, seemingly insignificant patch of skin both Maevor and Daeragon had inherited.

Harwin leans in close, placing his lips against the shell of your ear. "We know I have fathered your sons, my love. Do not worry yourself with this, it is not worth it."

"You're right, husband," you hum, settling into your husband's arms for the night. "I'm just glad he's here, and healthy."

He kisses your temple softly. "You did that. You made him the healthy babe he is."

As you promised Harwin that night, you did your best to ignore the rumors pursued by Alicent. In the years following Daeragon's birth you'd heard more whispers within the court questioning your son's parentage, though you said nothing.

You tried your best to pay them no mind, other days they really got to you. But for now you simply obliged to the queen's wishes.

"Ser Ellion," you motioned your friend forward with one hand. He looked much like his sister as they shared the same nose, and brown curly hair, though Ellion's eyes were an elegant green. Still, no man in the Seven Kingdoms could come close to Harwin in your eyes.

"Would you mind taking my sweet Raemor from your sister? I'm afraid I cannot tend to both babes at once."

Ellion nods and leans down slightly to make a peaceful transition from his sister's arms. He wore an awkward grin on his face as he cradles the blanket wrapped babe the best he could in a full suit of armor. "It is an honor, Princess. Though I'm not certain he will be comfortable against such steel."

Malina bows and takes Talya's arm in her own. You know Malina's dislike for the woman, and you can only guess she's done this to ensure Talya is led away from you and your family.

You shake your head in response to Ellion yet keep your attention on your daughter in your arms. "It is no issue, Harwin holds them in his armor every day. He has with each of them."

A moment passes in silence and you look up to your husband and eldest children. Maevor's brown curls are just long enough on the top to be tied back while leaving some down thus his hair is relatively tame. Daeragon's, however, is tousled and absolutely untame.

Both boys are breathing heavier now, their cheeks flushed. But the beautiful, pure look of excitement on their faces melted your heart. They knew their father was Lord Commander of the City Watch, and that Harwin worked hard for his family at his very important job, and they treasured their father for it.

After taking them to see Harwin train with some of the new recruits of the City Watch two fortnights ago had been a mistake on your part for the boys had not shut up about training themselves. At first you had been hesitant, of course other Targaryen princes had been taught to fight years before your boys, but you were afraid of the things they might encounter so instead you encouraged them to spend time in the libraries and their respective dragons.

As a result the boys were extremely well read and years ahead of their pupils in their studies. Maevor is practically fluent in Valyrian now, and Daeg is not far behind.

Their insistent pleading had wore on you though, and you gave in to them with Harwin's reassurance he would personally oversee their training. In the end, Maevor and Daeg's immediate joy at being granted permission made it worth it in the end.

Harwin and the boys were cleaning their training gear and putting it away.

Ellion clears his throat, pulling your attention from your family. "I fear something is happening, Princess."

"What do you mean?" you ask, standing from your seat and brushing your skirts with one hand.

"I have been approached twice now," he explains carefully, watching who was sat in the immediate area. The closest people sat on the complete opposite of the training yard in those stands. "Once by a fellow knight, and then by Talya herself. I only mention this as a warning, Princess."

Harwin and the boys are nearly there and you don't want the boys to hear such slander.

"Thank you, Ellion," you force a smile to give him. "And I apologize for what has been whispered around court these last years, but I plan now to make it right."

Harwin approaches you then, slinking one arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Come, my love, the boys need to bathe and our littlest ones must be ready for their nap."

Maevor perks up, "Mother, may I carry Naelora back to your chambers?"

Your hearts melts at the question, Maevor ever the doting older brother. You grant your son permission, gently reminding him to hold her head carefully.

"And I shall take Raemor from you, Ellion. I thank you for your services for today."

He bows respectfully, "Tis my duty, and an honor."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Once the twins are down for their naps and the older boys off to the bathhouse with Malina you informed Harwin of everything that had transpired this afternoon while he trained with the boys.

His thick brows furrowed almost immediately, angre written upon his face. Harwin had shed his armor by now, settling for more comfortable leathers for the evening. His sword however, stayed attached to his hip with one hand gripping the hilt.

"I am sick of hearing your name and reputation tarnished by fools!" Harwin seethes, angrier than you've ever seen him. "I have half a mind to slay them all down for even thinking such things of our children, of you."

You shake your head softly, approaching him to cup his face. You press your forehead against his own, something you've always done to comfort him.

"I have a plan, my dutiful husband," you assure him. "I happen to have a wonderful relationship with my father by law, if you must know. And I just so happen to know that a Small Council meeting starts in mere minutes."

Harwin eases a little, but now he's wrought with confusion.

"What have you planned, my love?"

You smile mischievously and press a sweet kiss to your husband's lips. "Just you wait husband, I first require our Maevor."

The boys are back from their baths by now as you can hear them bustling about Daeragon's chambers, which is the adjoining room to your own.

You knock before you enter as you always do, to the sight of your boys on Daeg's bed, books sprawled open before them.

"What have we there, byka zaldrīzoti (little dragons)?" you ask as you join them on the bed.

Daeg pulls the leather bound book to cover his lap to show you. "The Histories of Old Valyria!" he chimes. "Maevor was reading it to me in Valyrian."

You stroke Daeg's plush cheek with one hand, still able to see the babe he used to be in his face, and take Maevor's hand in your other.

"He's smart, your brother," you 'whisper' to Daeragon. "I would study hard, my Prince."

Maevor breaks his hand away to rustle his brother's brown curls. "Muña's teasing, Daeg. You are smarter now than I was your age."

You swoon, heart melting at the relationship between your boys. "Oh my sweet Maev," you kiss his temple. "Might I borrow you for a awhile, I have something important to discuss with the Small Council and I need your help."

Maevor's brown eyes widened slightly, "Of course, mother."

"Have no fear, sweet boy, I have a plan."

And you sure did. Once you explained what you could to Maevor while sparing his innocence best you could, he'd been more than willing to join you.

You squatted down to be closer to your son's level, Harwin by your side. "You are special, Maevor," you explain to him. You grab Harwin's right hand and Maevor's to put them side by side. Both birthmarks were near identical save for Harwin's being larger and slightly darker than his son's. "Each of my babes have this mark, all from Harwin, who inherited it from your grandsire, Lyonel. Do you understand?"

He nods, but says nothing. Harwin crouches down next to you, reaching to cup his eldest son's face.

"I wish we did not have to burden you with such a task, my boy," Harwin admits grimly. "I want you to know we are only doing this because we love you children, and I love your muña too much to let people speak of her in such a way any longer."

So the three of you set off, accompanied by Ellion as Malina had stayed behind to watch the twins and Daeragon.

Despite the Kingsguard outside the meeting room of the Small Council, you march right past them and push the doors open yourself.

Each member of the council turns to you now silenced. Otto sat up straighter in his seat as he looked towards his daughter. Alicent looked shocked to see the group of you, and you noted her visible nervousness.

Lyonel stands and comes to Harwin's side, demanding answers most likely. Harwin begins whispering in his father's ear, explaining the situation.

"Sister," Rhaenyra stands, hand placed over her round stomach. "What is wrong?"

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes blazing as you glare at the Hightowers at the table. "Since the birth of my Daeragon I have endured vile slanders against not only myself, but my marriage, and every one of my children."

Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

"Princess," Otto pokes in. "I can assure you-"

"Assure what?" you snap, slamming down on the table to lean towards the Hand. "Alicent has been the one to pull my ladies from me just after giving birth to insinuate my babes have been fathered by knight of the City Watch who is not my husband. Even now, a month after having my twins, I am approached with more blasphemy. No more."

You usher Maevor forward, who happily extends his right arm before you have to ask. Harwin joins you, followed by Lyonel, both of whom put out their wrists as well.

Alicent's mouth widens in shock before she grits her teeth. Even Larys' wears a look of shock as he checks his own wrists, coming up with nothing.

"I am tired of my children being put under scrutiny," you say finally. "And of my loyalty to my husband being questioned. Now, if you all do not mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of the day with my family undisturbed."

You step back from the table to leave when Rhaenyra wraps you up in a hug. "I am so sorry, sister," she whispers.

You assure her with a simple kiss to the side of her head before reaching for Maevor's hand.

The boy is practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you make your way back to your chambers, both Harwin and Ellion following close behind.

"She is very scary, your wife," Ellion admits to Harwin lowly. "I would to want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."

He only chuckles, "No, nor would I."

#harwin strong x reader #harwin strong #ser harwin strong #harwin x reader #harwin breakbones #ser harwin x reader #harwin x you #harwin strong fanfic #harwin strong x you #harwin strong fluff #hotd x you #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #harwin fluff #harwin angst #ser harwin angst #ser harwin x reader fluff #harwin lives au #hotd au #reader insert #reader #reader imagine #reader fic #house of the dragon fanfic #harwin breakbones x reader #harwin breakbones x y/n #hawrin breakbones x you #wife!reader #mom!reader

[novembermorgon]

more hockey aemond (+ aegon) for your consideration

#i really dont like these but its okay next one will be a comeback #digital painting #fanart #moart #asoiaf #artist #my art #digital art #artwork #art #asoiaf art #asoiaf fanart #game of thrones fanart #game of thrones #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire fanart #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond hotd #house of the dragon aemond #house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd fanart #hotd #modern au

[eraenaa]

But Daddy, I love Him

Aemond Targaryen x Niece Reader AU

Synopsis: When the favored daughter of Daemon Targaryen falls for the favored son of Alicent Hightower, the Rogue Prince does everything he can to ensure that a union between the two of you will never happen. 

Warnings: Not Proofread, ¿Softer Aemond and Daemon?, No Smut

Word Count: 5,019

It could no longer be denied nor be overlooked. It was growing painfully obvious to the court that the only daughter of Princess Rhaenyra has had her head turned by the second son of Queen Alicent. Everyone believed that the only thing the second-borns of the Princess and the Queen would share was animosity. Still, the return of Princess Rhaenyra and her kin to the capitol brought something different— something entirely unexpected. It started with stolen glances around the tilt yard and the halls of the red keep. Stolen glances lingered throughout dinner and the trial. Meeting in the library by chance turned into secret rendezvous. Banter and teases blended into meaningful conversations. Animosity turned to affection. Loathing bloomed into love. A love that cannot be.

“You look lovely, today, niece,” Aemond complimented as he caught you in the gardens. The prince relished the sweet blush that spread through your cheeks. “Shh, you might be heard,” You whispered in concern as your brothers were only seated a few leagues away. He hummed and dared to twirl your silky, curly hair into his fingers. “Shall you join me for a ride today, uncle?” You asked and took a flower into your delicate hands. You turned to the silver prince, who had a small, rare smile as he peered down at you. You boldly placed the plucked flower into the upper pocket of his tunic. “If you wish,” He answered, making you bite your lip as he stepped closer. “To the dragon pits then?” You asked, and Aemond offered his arm for you to take, and you gladly did. 

Prince Daemon stood above the gardens and watched the scene with a sneer. He had been stewing in rage, fear, and uncertainty for the past few weeks. You could no longer be reasoned with. In his eyes, you could never do no wrong. You had never done anything wrong— his favorite daughter was perfect. But apparently, your return to the capitol had caused you to make a lapse in judgment. Trusting a Hightower spawn was a great mistake on your part. You, his smart and sweet daughter, have been corrupted and manipulated by the one-eyed bastard of a son of the bitch that had the title queen. It pained the Rogue prince, but he had to take extreme measures to ensure that you would never be bound and be played by a Hightower spawn. 

You rode the skies next to your uncle. A wide smile on your lips and laughs, leaving your tongue as he playfully chased you through the clouds. His Vhagar may be the largest dragon there is, but she is also the oldest. Whilst your dragon had the quickness and agility of youth. “You’ll have to try harder than that, uncle!” You yelled in glee as you heard his frustrated groan when he lost you through a cloud. “I will catch you, little niece— and you shall give me my prize when I do,” He answered back, and you laughed in glee as your dragon rode through a cloud, making your stomach flip. “That is if you shall succeed!” You yelled before urging your dragon to fly faster and further from the prince. 

The afternoon sun started to fade, bathing the two of you in the orange hue of the setting sun, and it was then that Aemond finally caught up to you. When you landed by the pits, you were quickly grabbed by the waist. Entrapped in the arms of an uncle you used to loathe. “I demand my prize, little niece,” He murmured by your ear. You feel your heart stutter, and at the same time, you feel conscious as the two of you may be caught. “I demand my kiss, princess,” he said, and you feel your breathing shallowed by his words and the sound of footsteps approaching. You two were luckily hidden behind the body of your beloved dragon. “Tonight, meet me in the library and you shall have my kiss, my prince,” You said and reluctantly urged him to let go of his hold of you. 

When the two of you turned to the reason for the footsteps, your brows furrowed as you were both met with a gold cloak. “Can we help you, Ser?” you asked as Aemond cautiously assessed the trusted man of your father; stepping in front of you as if the knight would harm you. “Princess, I was sent by your father to escort you back into the keep.” He bowed and answered, but that did not aid your confusion. “It’s fine; I shall ride back to the keep with my uncle,” You answered, but the knight insisted that he had a direct order from the Rogue Prince that you shall return to the Red Keep under his supervision. “Just go; I shall ride behind you,” Aemond finally spoke after a moment, guiding you to the wheelhouse and glaring at the knight who interrupted the supposed private moment between the two of you. 

When inside the castle walls, you were greeted by your father and eldest brother as you disembarked the wheelhouse. “I see you have met Ser Adam,” Your father remarked at the knight who helped you step out of the carriage. “He shall be your sworn protector,” Prince Daemon added, his gaze turning to a prince who greatly reminded him of himself during his youth riding, following closely behind you. “Sworn protector? I— I do not believe there is a need fo—“ Your father cut you off, taking your arm and stirring you further from the one-eyed prince who dared to step closer to you after he had disembarked his horse. “You are the only daughter of the heir to the throne— of course, you need protecting. Ser Adam shall be constantly by your side, and he shall report back to me and your mother for any potential threat that arises.” You looked back, confused, locking eyes with Aemond, who had his jaw clenched as he conversed with your brother. 

“So I take it that my sister and brothers have their own sworn protectors as well?” You asked, feeling that you were singled out by your father’s sudden paranoia about your safety. “They too shall have one… in time,” He mumbled the last part, making your head snap up at him. “But in the meantime, Ser Adam shall oversee your ventures and activities. No more venturing out in the halls in the dead of the night alone. He shall be there by your side if any danger arises while you are in the dim walls of the library,” Your lips part as you realize that the knight was placed as a buffer, a wall between you and Aemond. You bit your tongue and made no further comment about the matter for now. 

When dinner came, you were excited because it meant that you would be in the presence of Aemond once more, enveloped in quiet conversation with the prince who sat by your left. But a frown adorned your pretty face once more as your seat beside Aemond was removed and instead placed cramped between Aegon and your elder brother. You hear Aemond’s familiar footsteps approaching; you turn to him as your brother guides you to your new place. Aemond knew exactly what they were doing. His jaw tightened as they had been keeping you from him. He knew he should have been cautious with his affection when out in public, knowing it would not be received well. But how could he restrain himself? How could he control himself when you are near? 

Throughout dinner, the two of you were silent, missing, and already longing to be by each other’s side once again. The prince’s face was filled with annoyance, his lips in a thin line. You held a look of solemnity, and a pout adorned your plush pink lips. Daemon turned to Jacaerys, the two of them satisfied with their tactics in keeping you and Aemond out of each other’s company. 

After dinner, you hear your newly assigned knight trail behind you as you walk the path toward the library. You sighed as you heard the clank of his armor. “You can stay by the door, Ser Adam,” You say as you approach the silent room, Aemond already waiting for you in your favorite spot. “I am afraid that I cannot abide by your orders, princess,” He said, and you bit your tongue; you could not let out your frustrations upon him as he was only ordered by your father. You took your seat across from Aemond; the prince eyed the knight who stood behind your chair. 

“What is he doing here?” Aemond asked in ancient tongue, annoyance seeping through his tone. “My father has instructed him to follow me wherever I go… instructed him to report back all of my ventures,” You answered and played with the embroidery of your fine dress as your pals for the night with Aemond were now ruined. “They are keeping you from me,” Aemond gritted, his hand clenching in anger. “And why should they do that?” You asked with a tilt of your head, moving to take hold of his hand, but the knight behind you cleared his throat as if a warning. You sighed and licked your lips and clamped your hands in front of you. “Because they are scared— threatened that…” Aemond caught himself before he uttered the deep truth he had realized just a week after you had returned. “That what?” You asked in common tongue. Aemond sighed and shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “That I would burn for you, little light. That we are dragons that need to be bound by blood.” 

You, being the watchful eyes of your sworn protector, did not last long. Aemond had commissioned some of the guards to pick a fight with your knight, and it left him bloody, bruised, and bedridden. Buying the two of you a small amount of freedom in each other’s presence before your father could find a replacement. 

The two of you were in the godswood, hidden behind the white, ashy trunk of the Weirwood tree, away from anyone’s view. Aemond laid his head on your lap as you read a book written in the language of your house, him listening intently to your honey voice as it read fluent Valyrian. “You still have not given me my prize,” The prince suddenly said as you paused from reading. You turned to him, gazing down at the serenity on his handsome face as he lay on your lap.  One of your hands intertwined with his and resting atop his chest. “What?” You asked, feeling your stomach flip at the intensity in his eye. “You still have not given me my kiss,” Aemond said, voice growing deeper and more serious. 

You tried to laugh it off, moving your intertwined hands to your lips and kissing the back of his hand. “There,” you say, but Aemond sat up from his position. “That is not the kiss we discussed, princess,” He whispered, face inching forward to yours. You feel his cold hand on the apex of your neck and shoulder, pulling you in and sending gooseflesh to rise all over your skin. “Just one kiss,” You whispered as his lips were so close to yours, his scent of cedar wood, mint, and leather so intoxicating. “We’ll see,” he said and smashed your lips. Your heart stuttered for a moment, feeling his warm, soft, wine-tasting lips upon yours. It was supposed to be only a chaste kiss, you knew you should pull away, but as Aemond placed his hand on your waist and pulled you close, you knew you did not have the strength nor want to do so. 

Unbeknownst to you, your secret actions with your uncle were caught by your eldest brother, who did not hesitate to run to your mother’s husband to report the scene. On how yours and Aemond’s lips danced, on how you grinned at each other as you acted to catch your breath, gazing at each other love-struck. On how your kiss under the scarlet leaves of the ancient tree had only solidified your emotions and deepened your desires for each other.

You were soon called to your mother’s chambers later that afternoon. “No, please! Please, you cannot do this to me— why… why would you marry me to him?” You cried to your mother as they announced that you were to be sent to the North as a bride for its warden. It was the extreme measure your father had to take to keep you away from Aemond. Sequestering you into the frigid wasteland just so a one-eyed dragon would not lay more of its claim on you. “You had promised me I was free to choose whom I shall marry!” You cried in front of them, knowing your tears had always been your trusted weapon to bend them to your will. “I’m sorry, my love… but, the crown needs allies… a union with Lord Stark is vital.” You shook your head, “The North is already sworn to you! You need not promise me to their lord,” You countered. “It was a decision your father believed had to be made, and it is to—“

Your mother’s words faded out, and you could only focus on how it was your father’s orders to offer you to a lord you had not even met. His cruel way of keeping you from Aemond. “My father is dead,” You suddenly gritted out, silencing your mother in shock as you said the bitter words. Though you were a product of Ser Harwin Strong, and the kingdom was made to believe that your paternity came from the line of Ser Laenor— neither of those men were fathers to you. Not like Daemon was. It stung you to say such words, but you were overly hurt that he had made such a decision just to keep you from the prince you loved. 

“My father is dead; how could he have made such a decision?” You asked and dug your fingernails into your palms. Your mother sighed as you and Daemon stared each other down. “Daemon made the decision,” She clarified. “You are heir to the throne, but you would let a prince consort dictate the future of your only daughter?” You asked, menacingly. Watching the way your step-father’s jaw ticks at your impertinence. He did not know how to handle you in such a state; you were never one to rebel, but what was there to rebel against when everything you had ever wanted was quickly given to you? 

“That is beside the point, my love; you still need to marry.” Your mother said, and you shifted your gaze to her. “I know! And I am happy to do so just as long as—“ Daemon cut you off. “Just as long as what?” He asked, “Just as long as it will be Aemond.” You proclaimed. “I wish to marry him, and he wishes to marry me as well! You are the only one against this!” You all but screamed with a stomp of your foot. Making your father roll his eyes and disapprovingly shake his head as they had filed you up with their lies. “You see, Nyra… look at how they had manipulated our daughter… they filled up her head with falsities— this had been their plan all along.” Daemon reasoned to your other, who looked in between the two of you with concern and cluelessness on how to proceed. 

“Look at how they corrupted her… arguing, yelling, insulting us just to defend their disfigured son. They are playing her!” he spat bitterly. “Do not call him that,” you gritted to Daemon as he uttered offense toward Aemond. There was a silence that enveloped the room before you finally spoke once more. “Father, please… I love him,” you pleaded, ready to beg on your knees just for you not to be sent as a bride for a wolf. Daemon looked at your eyes, sincerity in your orbs, gut-wrenching sadness as pearl tears ran through your cheeks; that still did not sway his mind. “The decision is made. You shall be Cregan Stark’s bride.” He stated and walked off, leaving you to cry and wail in your mother’s arms. 

Aemond eyed you with concern as you sat dejectedly in your place next to your brother and his. Your head hung low, and not once had you cast your enchanting eyes upon him— or anyone else for that matter. His hold on his knife is tighter as he realizes you have not a bite of your supper. His gaze went murderous as he finally saw your bloodshot eyes and trembling lips. They had made you cry. He turned to your father, a harsh look on his face, whilst your mother looked at you wistfully. Aemond then turned to Jacaerys, a smug look on his plain face.

As supper ended, Aemond was the first to leave the table. He made fast steps and entered your chambers to hide there, needing to speak with you, and he was certain that would not be possible whilst you were in the presence of your kin. He hid behind the pillar as he heard the door creek and your somber voice bidding Lucerys ‘good night.’ When he heard the door shut and bared, he made his presence announced. 

It was then that he saw a clear view of your state: eyes swollen and red, lips trembling, nose sniffling, soft cheeks flush with sadness. “My light… what has happened?” he asked. You said no word, only ran to his arms and let you hold him as the tears came like rivers once more. “They’re… they’re marrying me to Cregan Stark,” You said in between sobs. Aemond felt the air knocked out of him, his form turn rigged and was immediately filled with dread. “What?” He asked, hoping what he heard was a misunderstanding. “They offered me as a bride to Cregan Stark. He shall arrive in a few days to be presented to grandfather, and we shall leave for the North in a fortnight.” 

Aemond sat you down on your plush bed, wiping away your hot tears with his cold fingers. “You will never be his,” he swore, looking deeply into your eyes as your tears did not cease. I shall speak with your parents,” he said and tried to soothe you by running his hand through your hair and caressing your cheek. “Aemond, they wouldn’t even listen to me… their minds are made,” You said sadly. Your prince only shook his head and kissed the top of your brow. “You are a dragon. Wolves do not deserve dragons,” was all he said before kissing your lips again, hoping the action would distract you from your sadness because he could no longer stomach seeing you cry. 

“They would never approve of us,” You whispered to Aemond as he held you to his chest. He tried to lull you to sleep, but your mind was distraught. “I do not care for their approval,” he uttered atop your head, inhaling deeply the scent of you. “But—“ You hear Aemond sigh and pull you closer to his leather-clad chest. “You will be mine, my light, just as it ought to be. Forget their qualms and objections— my uncle and his disapproval is a challenge I’ll happily welcome, just as long as you will forever be mine.” He stated as his fingers twirled your hair, “Let us just rest, ñuha ōños,” he murmured, and you did as told. Savoring the first and probably the last time in his hold. 

“What are you planning?” Ser Criston asked as Aemond spent more hours in the tiltyard. The arrival of his betrothed had only spurred him to fight harder, train more, and let out his rage at the knights. “Pick your weapon,” was all the prince said as he wiped away the sweat off his forehead. “Tell me the reason for your more frequent sessions first,” the knight stated. Lilac eye flickered above the tiltyard, Aemond's jaw clenching and nostrils flared as he saw you walking around with the warden of the north, chaperoned by your brother. Ser Criston’s eyes followed the prince’s gaze, realization shining through his brown orbs. “My prince, you—“ He was cut off. 

“I shall be challenging the warden to a duel for the hand of my niece,” he proclaimed and urged the knight to pick up his weapon. “But she is a bastard,” Ser Criston muttered lowly. Aemond's eye widened, and he had to greatly retrain himself from maiming the knight who stood as his father figure. “She will be my wife.” He proclaimed and returned to his training. 

When all were gathered in the throne room to announce their betrothal to Lord Stark, Aemond stepped away from his sibling and drew out his sword, bravely challenging the warden in front of the eyes of the court and his father, the king. You felt your stomach pit in fear, for you did not know that this was the plan Aemond had devised. You had half the mind that he would have the two of you escape to YiTi and live freely there. You hear your father and brother’s disapproval of the duel, but you hear your grandfather’s agreement to it. Lord Stark had little choice but to accept the challenge. You turn to your mother, her lips in a thin line and hands fiddling with her rings, her expression unreadable as he watched men argue before the throne, dictating her only daughter’s fate. She felt your eyes upon her, and she took your hand into hers as fear was evident in your gaze. “It will be fine, my love,” She muttered lowly, but you had trouble believing her words. 

When night came, the supposed family supper was discarded as both sides were furious and confused at what had transpired in the throne room. “She will not marry him— I would rather feed myself to Caraxes than watch our daughter marry a spawn of those cunts.” Daemon muttered to his wife and downed a whole chalice of wine, quickly moving to refill it once more. “She loves him,” was all your mother could mutter as she plainly saw the affection in your eyes. “And he loves her,” she added as he saw the tenderness and warmth in her half-brother’s usually cold, lone eye. Daemon scoffed and turned to his wife. 

“Not you too— Rhaenyra, you cannot buy into their deceit! You cannot let your daughter be bound to that—“ The princess cut her husband off. “Why? Why are you so against this? Put your pride and animosity towards Otto and Alicent aside… our daughter has made it clear that she wants Aemond— and he, too, made it clear that he wants our daughter. There is no underlying deceit from his intentions… what will they even gain? The crown passes to Jacaerys; Aemond wants our daughter, not for power or whatever reason you had sold yourself to greatly disagree to this match!” Daemon shook his head at his wife’s words. “We need allies. We need the North.” He said, but Rhaenyra shook her head. “You are preparing for a war that may not come— already sacrificing our daughter on the way! And she is right. The North is already sworn to me. A Stark never forgets their oath. And if they need further convincing, my daughter and her happiness is too great a price to pay for them to keep their word.” Your mother defended. She watched as her husband’s jaw clenched and his hold on the chalice grew tighter. 

“Daemon, you and I had both been subjected to marriages, not of our choosing, a marriage devised for peace and power but ultimately led to death and devastation… you cannot be so cruel to subject her to such a fate.” Rhaenyra said softly and walked towards her husband, urging him to change his mind. The prince breathed out heavily, “We shall see in the duel if he truly deserves her,” 

You nervously traced the embroidery of your dress as you watched your prince battle with the Warden of the North. Both men still yet to tire as they galloped towards each other with their jousting sticks. You feel your mother reach for your hand as your leg bounces up and down in anticipation and fear. You took in a sharp breath as the Warden was thrown off his horse, and Aemond was quick to disembark his and draw out his sword. You chewed on your lip as you shielded your gaze from the men, your bloodstream filled with fear as you heard the clang of swords and their exhausted grunts. You hear the cheers of the audience grow louder, and you feel bile rising to your throat. You shut your eyes tightly and prayed to the gods and fates for it to end soon— for it to end and for Aemond to emerge victorious. 

Your prayers were quick to be answered as you snapped your eyes open at the enraged screams of your brother and father— the prince having the warden on his knees and a sword upon his throat. “Surrender, my lord,” The prince breathed, his eye scanning upwards, in search of you. “Surrender, and you will keep your life!” The prince yelled, and you fisted your dress with each moment the warden did not concede. But when he finally raised his arms up and dropped his sword, lowly saying his surrender, you were finally able to breathe freely. “Our champion, Prince Aemond Targaryen!” Someone yelled, and cheers hollered around you, but they were quick to fade as your eyes locked with the man you can now call your soon-to-be husband. 

The wedding was quick to come, no matter the reluctance of your father and older brother. You were marrying Aemond. Other members of your kin were finally accepting the union, seeing how you both were truly enthralled and in love with one another. They no longer held disapproval as they realized how bright and intense you burned for each other. 

You were in your chambers, the final preparations made to you as you were about to be bound to the one-eyed prince in the eyes of men and the gods. “You look… you look exquisite, my sweet,” Your mother sighed and cupped your cheeks, her eyes and voice filled with heavy emotion. You tightly embraced your mother as she was the only one who was truly on your side when it came to your union with Aemond. Your heart throbbed melancholically as you were to be married without the support or blessing of the man who had become your father. You walked out of the chambers with your mother by your side, her being the only one to escort you towards the grand doors that would lead you to the great hall where Aemond waited by the end of it. She gave you one last kiss on your cheek before stepping aside and walking towards a side entrance and waiting along with the other guests; absent was the presence of Daemon. 

As the banquet went on and your hand was freely clasped around your husband, you tried not to let your sadness be shown as the man who stepped in, as your father was not anywhere in sight. Aemond could feel your sadness no matter how hard you tried to hide it; he brought the back of your hand to his cool lips and hoped it brought you comfort. You flashed him a small smile and leaned in closer, “A dance, my wife?” He asked, his heart stuttering as a genuine smile spread to your lips. 

He led you to the floor and placed his hand on your waist. No more secret touches, no more possibility of scandal, for in the eyes of the gods and men, you were Aemond’s, and Aemond was yours. As your husband spun you around and kept his steady hold upon you, your mind was finally distracted by the sadness it felt as Daemon was absent on your most joyous day. The thought of your father did not occur to you as you danced until you and your husband saw him approaching. Aemond was attentive to your reaction as he approached, ready to challenge his uncle for the distress and sadness he bestowed upon you. “I wish to dance with my daughter,” He announced, and you felt Aemond’s hold on your waist tighten; he was about to speak, but you nodded and reassured him it was fine. Aemond reluctantly stepped away, and you were left in the presence of your father. 

There was silence at first as you were once again spun for the dance, but you soon broke it. “You did not attend our ceremonies.” You said, voice a tad bitter and resenting. You hear your father’s aggravated sigh. “I know you think he is playing me… I know you believe this whole ordeal is a farce, but it’s not. He loves me, father. And I love him greatly,” You say and urge him to understand. “You— your marriage is something I do not approve of.” You hear him utter, making your stomach pit, “But it is clear that you truly love him…” he trailed, his eye turning to your husband, who had his watchful gaze upon you, ready to come to your aid, the moment he sensed distress. “… And I suppose his intentions are genuine,” he relents. You turn your now hopeful gaze upon him, “I do not believe he deserves you, but if he truly makes you happy, who am I to stand in your way? I will not hinder you anymore.” You processed her father’s words. “Do you truly mean it?” You asked, voice thick with emotion, “I do,” he sighed and kissed the top of your head. You smiled widely as heaviness in your heart faded with the blessing of your father was finally bestowed upon you and your husband.

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