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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖓

𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖊𝖓𝖆 𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖞𝖊𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔰 : 𝔰𝔥𝔢/𝔥𝔢𝔯

( 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥s )

ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ (ᴍᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ *)

Y/n was clearing the table as though it were soothing, Helaena noted. Her head tilted like a puppy as she fidgeted with her fingers. She was unsure whether or not it would be a good idea to help; it was just that your hair was so pretty and she felt a wave of familiarity when she saw you, she couldn't help it. She bit her lip. She approached slowly and so quiet that it made Y/n jump when her hand came into view. The servant rose her brows as both locked eyes. Helaena swore if she kept looking she would melt, so she glanced away quickly and tutted as she spotted one of her spiders crawling along the side. He must have slipped out of her pockets at dinner. It made her jump when a soft voice announced itself. "Is that Aelar?" The serving girl asked, unsure. Helaena's mind bubbled until finally popping with realisation. She nodded, smiling gentle as ever. "Yes, my dōna valītsos." She doesn't notice the slip into High Valyrian until it leaves her lips, painting her face a dark shade of maroon. (sweet boy) Y/n chuckles and nods. "Issa gevie." She hums. (He's beautiful) Helaena snaps her head to look at her.

"You know Valyrian?" Now it's Y/n's turn to redden. She looks down at the table then hesitantly looks back at Helaena. "My aunt was a septa, my family are of course not high born but she..." She hesitates then swallows. "She wanted us to have some chance at, well, enchanting someone of status to boost our station." The two girls stood in flushed stupors. Helaena tries to hold back, she really tries like her mother tells her to but she can't help it. "You have." She assures awkwardly. A fuzzy feeling overcomes her, as if Aegon filled her goblet too high again. She expects Y/n to cough and excuse herself but she doesn't, instead she inches closer. She feels the thump of her heart pushing against her ribcage. Eventually the long silence dissipates as Helaena laughs, taking Y/n's warm but rough hand in her own soft one. They look at each other and the nonsense of duties, husbands and status drown because the water has grown warm from the ever-present sun that neither realised until they too fell into the sea.

The night was spent in laughter and risk. Helaena lay her head in Y/n's lap the next morning. They were outside. Y/n held one of the septa's books in her hand and was reading through trying to push mispronounced words from her tongue. "Skori dārilaros Nȳhmēria arrived isse dorne, mazēdas–" (When Princess Nymeria arrived in dorne, she took–) "Ri-Laros, not rylaros." She corrects lightly, giggling. Y/n giggles back but continues with even worse pronunciation now. "How did we end up like here?" "Your husband's wine that's how." Helaena wrinkles her nose. She suddenly leaps up and protrudes her hands out to her. "Dance with me." She was sure she had never felt more confident before. Y/n hesitates but the alcohol is taking control. Helaena heaves her up and pushes close, something so intimate about the way they're twirling each other now. Y/n sighs and pulls away, Helaena's face falls but Y/n merely takes off her shoes and rolls them against the tree with beautiful maroon leaves, the same shade as the wine sloshing about beside them. Helaena begins to beam and copies her before taking their hands back together and continuing to beam at one another. She looked up at the sky in bliss. "When we met," She breaks the silence. She turns her gaze to her...well who was she to her. "was actually a year ago." She murmurs. Their fingers intertwine. She leans in too close for just friends. "And I felt so foolish because I spilt wine all over you. You were holding the pitcher for Aegon and my hand slipped. I was ever so scared." Y/n nods with a soft smile. "I wanted to help you but mother was frustrated, she didn't mean to snap." The air gets uncomfortable. "I knew it stained your apron so I bought you another one specially." Helaena presses her index finger to fiddle with a dragon in the corner of the one Y/n is currently wearing. "I was far to anxious to tell you it was me though. Her faces turns scarlet but she's used to it by now. Y/n leans even closer now and tilts her head, mimicking her lover. "I know." She whispers. Helaena swallows before she realises the severity of their entanglement. She can't afford to sacrifice her happiness anymore. She leans in to capture Y/n's lips. It feels like a wave of sweet sugar is seeping into her mouth as her teeth clash ever so slightly against the maroon lips that make her feel so comfortable.

Helaena is inconsolable and for the first time she's allowing herself to be angry. Angry at Aegon. Angry at Alicent. Angry at Y/n because she left her. She left her, all on her own. Alicent rubs wearily at her forehead as she tries to lessen her daughter's spectacle. Helaena reluctantly sobs into her own arms, still pushing her mother away from her. She caused this. Finally Helaena does stop and the silence is deafening, even more torturous than they would expect. She's shaking like a leaf and panic is making her feel ill. She's never cared much for the war but as she looks through the walkway she sees Y/n beside Aemond. In a delusion she sees him tugging her lover's limp body in his arms, the hauntingly hollow eyes she can only escape in her dreams stare back at her, blaming her. She can't look at flowers anymore even when her brother attempts to cheer her up, he never understood why she called carnations roses, he didn't know that for one day Y/n knew something that Helaena did not, even less the secret glances the two women so commonly shared. As he approaches her, he hesitates. He wasn't completely clueless, he knew of his sister's affections for the servant he just didn't realise how deep. He knew Helaena blamed him, if he hadn't chased after Lucerys that day then Daemon never would have fought for such bloodshed of his nephew. Y/n would not have thrown herself in front of little Prince Jaehaerys and alerted the guards too late. To his uncle, this death will mean little to him, it's not enough, he doesn't understand how much this will punish Helaena. No one knew. "What do you want? For her death to be in vain?" Alicent finally snaps. Helaena glares. "I want you to sacrifice, you love the crown more than any of us, I want you to surrender." She knows that they won't, she knows that Aemond's eye is flickering around the room in guilt–even he won't accept such as an exchange. She was just a silly little serving girl to them. To Helaena she is the sun...Was the sun. She decides she hates past tense now.

Helaena looks into the chambers she refused to step inside only hours prior. It's wrong, without her it's far too morbid–she was walking into a tomb of regret. The love she had sheltered so carefully wouldn't escape her. It was only a week later that she finally allowed her maids to bathe and clothe her. Her dress before was caked in blood as she howled with Y/n's body laying limp against her thighs. It was her turn to lay her head on her lap and whisper stories of far. * It was her fault that her beloved passed, she could at least join her as she would be remembered by her. Helaena lowered into the bath with wearily closed eyes. She rose a hesitant hand to press down against the sensitive mark on her collarbone. She displayed it proudly but now it made her want to sob. She awoke later with the heavy feeling of regret still burning through her blood. She should have run away with her to Essos like she promised she would but what of the children? They were not nearly yet grown. With a weighing hand, she reluctantly grasps quill and parchment. If she is to have her own legacy than she can at least ensure the love of her life is remembered. She will see her soon. *

#helaena x reader #helaena targaryen #helaena targaryen imagine #helaena targaryen x reader #hotd fic #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fics

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thesunfyre4446 · 8 months

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Hey, love your posts and was just wondering - do you also write hotd fics? And if you’re not, could you please recommend some good team green fics if you know any . I struggle to find any good ones

hi, thank you so much :)

i do write fics, but i haven't actually posted anything lol currently working on an aemond \ non-targ oc fic and i've been having so much fun writing, so maybe i'll post eventually we'll see

and good TG fics... let me think

"they said i killed you (haunt me then)" by @acrossthesestars - aemond x oc - LOVE this fic so much it's so good (i love wylla so muchhhhh)

"the maiden and the drowning boy" by @emilykaldwen aegon\ oc fic = it's so goodddd and i also loved "boy with a broken soul (heart with a gaping hole)

"red bird" by @barbieaemond aemond x oc love this fic so much

def go check these out!

#house of the dragon #hotd #team green #pro team green #alicent hightower #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #aegon ii x oc #aemond x oc #house of the dragon fics #asks #lovely anon

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house-strong · 2 years

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hi all

i will be taking house of the dragon requests. i will write for daemon targaryen, criston cole, harwin strong, jacaerys and lucerys velaryon (of age), as well as for aemond targaryen.

my inbox is open! just specify what character and what you want the fic to be about.

#house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon fics #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #harwin strong x reader #ser criston x reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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melis-ash · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: House of the Dragon (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alicent Hightower & Larys Strong, Alicent Hightower/Viserys I Targaryen Characters: Alicent Hightower, Larys Strong, Viserys I Targaryen (mentioned) Additional Tags: Drama, Fluff, Unhealthy Relationships Summary:

Laris Strong spares no effort to earn the Queen's trust.

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #larys strong #alicent x larys #larycent #hotd #hotd fics #house of the dragon fics #my fics

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chic-beyond-the-wall · 4 months

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More medieval dyes for y'all!

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elaratyrell · 3 months

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Bro the fandom is in SHAMBLES right now and I don't have the full story on anything, but to be honest, I don't want to. I have seen more than enough But the never ending discourse within the fanbase has been playing on my mind for a while, and personally, turning me off from competing any of my drafts.

Why can't people just leave other people to write their fics in peace? Why does drama appear out of nowhere? Why do so many people cause so much hate and discourse?

I haven't even been on this site for long and some people are doing my head in. Just be nice to people.

Sending hate is wrong, whether on anon or otherwise.

Making drama out of nothing is wrong.

Plagiarising is wrong.

Falsely accusing others of plagiarising is wrong.

You know what's right?

Writing fics, praising other writers' works, and enjoying writing for the fucked up universe that George R.R Martin created for us.

Be kind, be happy and be safe.

It's clique to say, but there's so much hate in the world, so why add to it over the most stupid of reasons?

Anyway, I hope not everyone in the fandom is fully disheartened away from it, because every writer matters. Every writer will appeal to someone. Keep writing your work, and spreading your amazing creativity on this hellhole of a site.

Hopefully I can actually update something on the weekend. Here's to hoping 🤞

❤️❤️❤️❤️

#Elara's rants #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon fics #fandom #some people in the fandom need to grow tf up

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jamilelucato · 1 year

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The Blackest of Greens [part two]

pairing: [y/n] Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen

summary: after days apart, the couple met in the middle of the night

a/n: okay so the reader here, unfortunately, takes a more consistent body form (?). I'm sorry for it but it had to happen.

a/n 2: again, this is not a properly smut fic, but this second part mentions sexual stuff way more than the first; so heads up?

PART ONE HERE

PS: part three? it will happen!

@sustisama

She was waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the balcony, bathed only in moonlight. The silver hair, the mark of her lineage, framed her face as it swayed in the wind.

Every detail of the night sky pleased her, from the stars to the barely visible layer of cloud, but the beauty also held a secret: where was Aemond, who promised to see her on the third night in the little abandoned and forgotten castle of Dragonstone?

Soon she would have to return to the main castle, for someone would miss her. Jacaerys would be busy with Queen Rhaenyra’s affairs — the eldest son indeed was very attached to the crown’s engagements — but Lucerys could be roaming the halls. Some guard recently sworn to the right side of the line could notice that the newest Crown Princess was not resting in her room.

However, nothing could be done, not in the dead of night, while she was away from her mother’s castle and away from her husband. So [y/n] would just have to wait, as much as she hated it. She had to give Aemond a chance.

Still, no dragon in the sky.

She was past the worry stage; she was just furious. Where was the one promised to her at King’s Landing?

“[y/n]?” echoed the whisper inside the abandoned castle.

She shivered at the voice that always whispered her name between hugs in a warm bed. Of course, the scenario was a little different, but the internal heat caused was the same.

“Up here, Aemond,” she replied, allowing herself to speak louder, knowing they wouldn’t be heard.

From where she was sitting, [y/n] could see the official castle perfectly, and for now, they were free of any conflict, as it seemed that the inhabitants were already falling into their nightly routines.

“Why did you take so long?” she asked as soon as he reached the balcony.

The unexpected wind that hit them before Aemond could respond didn’t scare the young man, but it did send the girl princess goosebumps.

Aemond was quick to offer her his coat; after half a second, when she considered denying it out of politeness, she accepted it. The princess wore a long-sleeved dress, and her legs were well covered, but her cleavage was more daring than appropriate for an open, high space like the one the couple found themselves in.

“I apologize if I took so long, [y/n]. I couldn’t come flying, so… I had to come by boat.”

She was no longer sitting on the railing, so she leaned her hands over the edge and looked down where the sea broke in freezing waves.

"I don’t see ships down there."

Aemond grinned mischievously. “Boat, princess. I came paddling.”

“You came… came… paddling?” she repeated, in disbelief, “From King’s Landing to here?”

“Well, no. My sister brought me with a boat on the back of Dreamfyre close by, and then I came rowing, yes,” he explained to her, carrying a particular pride. “I couldn’t come with Vhagar; We would be recognized for miles.”

“Your sister brought you willingly? Is she an ally of my mother?” asked the princess, surprised to find solidarity in an inhospitable place.

“Helaena is no one’s ally but her children and her embroidery. She thinks she did our precious love story a favour.”

Aemond didn’t look at her, not even after telling her of his sister’s hopes. [y/n], on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes off her husband, impressed by his ability to appear unfazed. Was it a talent earned to survive Alicent’s authority, or was it just in Aemond’s nature to be categorical?

“Oh, what a precious love story indeed…“ she grumbled, looking up at the sky too.

The one-eyed prince took advantage of the fact that he wasn’t being watched to look at his wife, and he suddenly glimpsed their first night together as a couple.

The wedding night had been strange, to say the least, for Aemond. They were married inside the castle, with all the rituals and the presence of the entire Targaryen family and the younger Velaryon girls. Afterwards, all together, they celebrated a beautiful feast. The union of uncle and niece was nothing compared to the marriage of Rhaenyra and Laenor, and this was highlighted by the king himself, who, in those last hours of his life, smiled at his granddaughter.

“I’m glad to see you smile,” said the old man, although he didn’t know that [y/n] smiled for her brothers and mother, not for the wedding. “I know you will make Aemond happy too. He…” the king coughed, “my boy is not joyful. Even before… the eye, he was already like that. Frowning, angry. Distrustful of the world.”

“Do you suppose I will be able to cure it?” she asked.

Viserys exhaled air. “Perhaps not. But you can help him remember, remember that he has more to live than doing so with a grudge. Like Aemma did to me.”

Before the granddaughter could protest, saying something about being unable to bring light to the darkness, the king already had other daydreams.

“Rhaenyra’s wedding—the one I was invited to, at least—gave me a lot of headaches. And I wasn’t pleased. But I am tonight,” he said, louder this time for the entire table to hear.

Daemon pretended he didn’t hear the part about wedding invitations.

“My family united as one, now more than ever. Seeing you happy and celebrating as my children, grandchildren and relatives and not like the heirs, princes and princesses that you are makes me happy and warm. Thank you for giving me this simple ceremony, Aemond, [y/n]. And, of course, to their mothers who had an afternoon to organize everything. A toast!”

The night of celebration didn’t go on long after the toast. The king had to leave, and the others no longer had as much affinity as they would have liked to continue there in happiness.

[y/n] searched for Aemond in the rising faces of the family. Her mother squeezed [y/n]’s hand one last time and left; her stepfather barely spared her a glance. Jace was the last one with her, just half a minute longer than her mother, but it made a difference for the princess.

[y/n] had been Jacaerys’ betrothed once. She wondered what her life would have been if the mother hadn’t cared that her son was still a minor and had married them off as soon as the promise was made. She would have avoided marrying Aemond, that was certain, but would she have been happy?

She loved her brother but wasn’t sure she loved him the way he wanted.

Not that it meant she loved her uncle. She barely knew him. What little she knew, she wasn’t delighted.

Aemond sipped the last of his wine slowly, one hand on the glass and the other on the wooden chair he’d once sat in. He stared at the family members leaving, one by one, until not even Otto Hightower was there. She noticed that her groom was making a face, but she couldn’t decide if it was good or bad.

Bad for her, she concluded. The seconds passed slower than the hours.

And then his gaze stopped tracking the door and found her anxious one. She felt her heart skip a beat.

Nobody said anything, but [y/] hated quietness. “I suppose we should go.”

Aemond left his glass on the table. “Go to where?”

She gulped.

“To your chambers, my prince.”

“When you arrived, you called me uncle. Is it over?” his question unnerved her. She wasn't expecting this.

“I suppose, us being husband and wife now, the addressed pronoun has stopped being appropriate,” she replied, thinking about it. She had called him uncle on that occasion because her mother insisted on forcing a friendship between the sides of the family, and the way to start was with the names.

But now he… Well, he was still her uncle, blood of her blood and all.

“Are you religious, [y/n]?”

She wasn’t and told him so. However, the conversation felt wrong. What did he want with all that? Wasn’t it easier to take her right away, mark her as his wife and make them more than official?

She wasn’t edgy, not indeed. She knew about sex and everything that went with it. She was still a virgin, but she wasn’t stupid, and she’d already been kissed —Jace had been her first, but other Dragonstone boys, servants and sons, had already touched her, one way or another.

There were also her maids, creative in their stories, even the sexual ones. She was told it would and could forever hurt, for arranged marriages were usually composed of husbands who only wanted to do their duty and did not want to love their wives.

Of course, at the time, she thought she would marry her brother, and there was no doubt that she would be valued and treasured.

With Aemond, however, everything was still being determined. She imagined he wouldn’t love her nor be patient—not that night, not the next. But as he surveyed her about casualties — “why aren’t you religious, niece?”, “do you support your mother’s current marriage?”, “How did you feel during the ceremony?” and so many others—she began to hope that perhaps he would respect her.

It was so silly of her to think that! He was the uncle who hated her brothers, especially Lucerys, because of the eye and who probably despised her just as much for being a bastard heiress. So [y/n] was Targaryen, but not Velaryon. The silver hair left no room for bickering, but other attributes about her gave away the secret.

She was fed up, in the sense that no Targaryen ever had been. Her mother, perhaps, came close to her after so many births, as her body did not always fully recover, but even so… [y/n] had the form of Harwin Strong in her, and a fool was the one who denied it.

She just didn’t understand why Aemond could hate her for it. She was a bastard, but she was as Targaryen as Aegon and Aemond put together.

She took advantage of him showering her with questions to reverse roles. “Why do you insist on highlighting the possibility that my brothers and I are bastards? Do you hate us for this potential?”

The mood that had just been calm and pleasant suddenly froze.

She had used the word “possibility” because soon as she was a child, she had learned never to assume her true paternity. But Aemond had understood her perfectly, so that shouldn’t be why he was silent.

Internally nibbling his cheeks, Aemond replied. “I don’t hate you,’ he said, almost inaudibly. “Perhaps I hate Lucerys for what he did to me, not for the blood.”

“He was a child,” [y/n] interrupted, trying to defend her brother, though he ignored her and went on.

“I think I will come to hate Jacaerys if he continues to regard you as a banquet stolen from him. But that only time will tell,” he said, speaking quietly as if he were telling her how many socks he has in his drawer.

“Although I hate have been forced to marry, you are mine now. Neither the gods nor your brother will take you from me,” he continued. “You are my wife, so no, I don’t loathe you. How could I?”

She didn’t know what to say after hearing his declaration. Of course, he’d avoided the main question, but he’d done it magnificently. She was bewitched.

She didn’t know she could feel this way, not with him.

She got to her feet, just as he still was, and faced him. “I am your wife. But I still need to know if it hurts you that I might not be legitimate.”

He looked at her equally. “No. I do not care,” he said as he walked closer to her. “Your first blood is Targaryen,” then he ran his fingers through the length of her hair. “Your hair is as silver as mine. That’s all I need.”

She tilted her head slightly, seeming to be confused. Everything he needs for what?

“It shall assure that my heirs will be as royal as they could be.”

[y/n] gulped once more. He was saying those things with such confidence she had to wonder if perhaps that was once before the wedding vows that he imagined marrying her. But that couldn’t be, right?

Aemond, for the first time, smiled at her. It was a smile more sly than benevolent, but it was the first she saw, and that was enough.

“I believe that we can leave the room with that said.”

She looked down at hand he held out to her. Then, biting her bottom lip, [y/n] let him lead her out of there and toward his chambers.

They walked side by side and arm in arm, adjoining elbows, through the corridors until they reached the main wing and then the floor of the King’s sons.

Rhaenyra was using the same room she had grown up in during her visit, with the difference that she now shared it with her spouse. Aemond was about to do the same.

Before the young prince could be drunk with the memories of their first time actually together as one, [y/n]’s voice called out to him.

“Aemond,” she sounded sweet, “how did your brother take it?”

He didn’t answer, because it felt like betraying his family.

But the thing was that [y/n] was his family now.

“He didn’t want it,” sighed the younger brother of King Aegon II, “but when he saw how proud Mama was... I think he’ll find some joy in being a King.”

After the couple’s fight over [y/n]’s participation in the coronation, it was agreed that the princess would leave on her dragon but that her husband would attend, playing the role of faithful brother.

They were playing a dangerous game, but the game of thrones has no other way of being, [y/n] thought.

The one-eyed prince, however, was playing an even worse game. In his mind, he wasn’t in favour of Rhaenyra Targaryen’s coronation, nor was he in favour of seeing his crazy, boozy brother with the crown.

He believed the throne was his and if he had to play the game of thrones alone, then so be it. He’d help Rhaenyra get accepted, but he’d kill the cunt as soon as possible. And finally, he would kill his wife.

Staring at her, Aemond wondered if she knew. If she even suspected.

It didn’t seem the case; he saw in her only the facade of a woman but the soul of a girl. It was the same one he’d seen when he’d first slept with her. Her body, her shape… [y/n] had a lot to distribute. But she was as naive as his sister.

“It will be dark times,” she said, nibbling her lip.

He didn’t have time to agree as she continued to speak. “We will have to be smart. It was wise of you to point out your dragon; I’d forgotten Vhagar’s size. But, we need a better, more effective method of communication.”

“Pigeons?” suggested Aemond, but even he didn’t seem sure.

“No… I don’t think it would work; we could be tracked,” she replied. “I suppose we’ll have to take the hardship on our own. We will have meetings, but sporadically. Then you will tell me everything, and I will give you advice on sabotaging your mother and preventing things from my side.”

“And I stand there like a court jester, drooling over my brother’s egg?” Aemond grunted, staring into the darkness of the night. “No… You… You’ll have to come with me.’

“What?”

“You’ll have to come with me, [y/n]. Officially as my hostage, but I’ll leave you in my room in peace,” he explained, but ended the phrase smirking, making it clear that “at peace” included some not-so-peaceful things.

“Aemond, it doesn’t seem ideal to me.”

“Oh, why?”

“A kidnapping of the Crown Princess? That would be reason enough for my mother to declare war,” elaborated the girl. “Even though we are married, my brothers are not fools. They will know that I did not agree.”

“But you think we should let Aegon be the first to miss.”

“Yes,” she agreed with Aemond. “But my kidnapping shouldn’t be the first mistake. It is futile and ineffective.”

“You only say that because you will be the victim. You know it’s not ineffective, not in the long run,” Aemond disagreed patiently. “This tactic would give a white flag to retaliation from your mother, which for her victory must be done soon.”

“For now, I’ll advise Mom to look for allies,” she sighed. “It’s impersonal and it works.”

“For now?” he echoed her words. “So you haven’t ruled out kidnapping?”

“Whether I like it or not, I can be more useful inside the green nest than here,” she admitted. “That’s when we’ll see each other again, by the way.”

“I just have to wait for a mistake. Of the blacks?” he wanted to be inside the architecture of his wife’s brain and to know how she considered and discarded so many possibilities per second.

“From either side.”

Nodding, Aemond backed away from his wife and the balcony's edge. He had no idea how long he’d been there, but the prospect of rowing home was exhausting.

On some distant island, his sister was waiting for him, luckily. But still, it was a lot of seas to navigate.

“Are you leaving now?” she asked before he turned away from her.

“Yes,” he replied, swallowing hard. But, then, the wind became present again, leaving its wake in a frightening noise that echoed through the castle’s ruins.

She started to take off her coat. “Your fur,” she said, drawing his attention to the lap of her chest, now bare and completely ruffled.

He took a long, quick step toward her.

“Stay with it,” he pleaded. “Everything that’s mine is yours, at least by law,” he added playfully.

“But I’ll be in my warm room soon enough,” she protested, still holding out his coat towards him. Then, with just a turn of face, she fronted the night and the sea. “You still have a long way to go.”

He came even closer as he agreed to take the coat back. Their hands barely touched, but it was enough for a jolt of electricity to ripple through them both, and she returned her gaze to his face.

Having already seen him without the eyepatch, [y/n] was no longer afraid of what he might hide there. In fact, she would have enjoyed looking at him that way one last time, to remember him for the days to come until they could meet again.

“No, I…” she asked him, but Aemond was disagreeing. “You better remember me like this.”

She smiled without showing her teeth in that innocent, pure way that Aemond had only found in her. “I like your single eye. And I like the blue stone.”

Tightening his lips, Aemond gripped his fur tightly with one hand and with the other, he pulled back the eye patch.

They spent a full minute just staring. The wind waved [y/n]’s hair, which was only half up. Aemond’s hair, curiously, was also tied in the same way, but it didn’t have her lightness, so it didn’t sway as intensely.

It was the first time they really saw each other.

Aemond thought that when he had taken her virginity and seen her lying in his bed, a frail lady, he had then come to know her fully. But it was his mistake. He was just getting to know her.

She, too, had been mistaken. The husband’s moments of pleasure were very close to the scene that was unfolding — when he cummed, he actually became more natural, relaxed and undoubtedly alluring. However, facing him in the dead of night, accompanied only by the wind, was when she finally began to realize who she had married.

But truth be told, she wouldn’t figure it all out until a few days later.

He closed the space between them, to their surprise and kissed her desperately. Then, like a hungry man, Aemond drank from her lips and savoured her taste.

Maybe he didn’t love the wife given to him by his father, but he was grateful that she was such a…whole woman, at least for everything he felt he needed in a partner.

He wanted more. He wanted to lean her against a wall and make her shiver until she begged him to leave her on the floor. He wanted and would have delighted in fulfilling such a fantasy, but he knew he shouldn’t.

There wasn’t time.

With her, he wanted to take all the time in the world. Deflowering her was an entire dawn’s task, which he only stopped with the sunrise because he wanted to leave her alone, although the princess had assured him that she could persist. And she lasted, from the next sunset until the next sunrise, and they would have fucked each other much more, had time allowed.

But time was something the couple would always lack.

They didn’t have time to get to know each other, they didn’t have time for courtship. They didn’t even have a full honeymoon.

Besides, Aemond feared making her pregnant, for now, more than ever, was not the time.

When he pulled away, [y/n] felt weak. He was still holding her, one hand on her waist and the other gripping her elbow, but she felt wobbly.

She tried to recover before he noticed it.

The hand he pressed to her waist also shielded her, for between his firm grip was the fur coat, and when he finally released her, she too felt the cold.

“I have to go,” he said, noticing her frown.

“Yes, I’ve presumed so,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

She hated this power his touch had over her. She hated being the deer for the kill. She was a dragon, had dragon blood, and was the dragon’s rightful heir. But next to Aemond, she was just water, and she vaporized whenever his fire hit her.

Composing herself, she hugged her chest and watched him walk away.

Aemond hadn’t noticed the effect he had on [y/n]. Of course, he was a man who knew his manly influence, and to some extent, he could feel her desire for him. However, he was utterly blind to her frailty. He could only see and feel a dragon when he kissed and touched her. He felt like he was touching fire. She didn’t hurt him — he was a Targaryen — but her fire marked him, and he judged that perhaps, just perhaps, he was more hers than she was his.

He walked away, hugged by his coat, and as he began to row, he was more confident than before: he would have to kill her.

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #house of the dragon fics #hotd #house of the dragon #targaryen reader

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supervengerslock · 11 months

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i can’t wait to show you guys the asoiaf fics i’ve been working on (x reader and oc)

#fics #asoiaf #game of thrones #game of thrones fics #game of thrones fic #asoiaf ocs #game of thrones ocs #got ocs #hotd ocs #hotd fics #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #a song of ice and fire series #a song of ice and fire fics #house of the dragon fics

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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Requests are CLOSED

i'm pretty open for most content so i will accept platonic, nsfw, yandere and dark content if requested <3

however i will not write SA content

while asks are closed, my inbox will usually be temporarily down before opening again to chat if any of you have any general thoughts or questions but i will be not be answering requests that are sent in after i have closed them

anons welcome <3

most recent work

coming out this week current series': jessie (jace)'s girl, only fair, mastermind , heartbeat

HOTD Taglist

Fanfic Recent/Current Poll (pssst there's another one)

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ Fic Recs

I also accept au fic and headcannon requests and welcome some general chit chat :)

Current Fixation: House of The Dragon

Headcannons - closed (while sorting through current)

Fics - closed (while sorting through current)

NSFW - closed (while sorting through current)

Matchups: closed (while sorting through current)

Current Asks: 17

Works In Progress: 8

PLEASE include any concept, pronouns and any status you would like or if you would like anything based on a song or film <3

Characters I write for (if you do not so one here, feel free to request anyway and I'll try and see what I can do)

ASOIAF ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

🌑 Rhaenyra Targaryen 🌑 Helaena Targaryen 🌑 Aemond Targaryen 🌑 Baela Targaryen 🌑 Jacaerys Velaryon 🌑 Cregan Stark 🌑 Rhaenys Targaryen (Velaryon) 🌑 Daemon Targaryen 🌑 Alicent Hightower 🌑 Laena Velaryon 🌑 Corlys Velaryon 🌑 Daeron Targaryen 🌑 Sansa Stark 🌑 Margaery Tyrell 🌑 Daenerys Targaryen 🌑 Harwin Strong 🌑 Robb Stark 🌑 Jon Snow 🌑 Arya Stark 🌑 Cersei Lannister 🌑 Jaime Lannister 🌑 Bran Stark 🌑 Ellaria Sand 🌑 Yara Greyjoy 🌑 Lyanna Stark 🌑 Rhaegar Targaryen 🌑 Aegon I Targaryen 🌑 Visenya Targaryen 🌑 Rhaenys Targaryen 🌑 Baelon Targaryen 🌑 Maegor Targaryen 🌑 Viserra Targaryen

ACOTAR

🌑 Feyre Archeron 🌑 Cassian 🌑 Rhysand 🌑 Azriel 🌑 Morrigan 🌑 Nesta Archeron 🌑 Elain Archeron 🌑 Lucien Vanserra

THE MARAUDERS (i do not support j k rowling)

🌑 James Potter 🌑 Remus Lupin 🌑 Sirius Black 🌑 Peter Pettigrew 🌑 Marlene McKinnon 🌑 Dorcas Meadowes 🌑 Lily Evans 🌑 Mary MacDonald 🌑 Regulus Black 🌑 Pandora Lovegood 🌑 Andromeda Black

HARRY POTTER (i do not support j k rowling)

🌑 Harry Potter 🌑 Fred Weasley 🌑 George Weasley 🌑 Ginny Weasley 🌑 Ron Weasley 🌑 Hermione Granger 🌑 Luna Lovegood 🌑 Fleur Delacour 🌑 Lavender Brown 🌑 Parvati Patil 🌑 Padma Patil

WEDNESDAY

🌑 Wednesday Addams 🌑 Enid Sinclair 🌑 Tyler Galpin 🌑 Ajax Petrpolus

NARNIA

🌑 Susan Pevensie 🌑 Edmund Pevensie 🌑 Peter Pevensie 🌑 Lucy Pevensie 🌑 Prince Caspian

THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

(as a pre-warning, these will likely include majority perceptions from a book reader so lmk if you don't want spoilers in case I forget)

🌑 Sophie 🌑 Agatha 🌑 Hort 🌑 Hester 🌑 Tedros 🌑 Dot

my account is still pretty fresh so i'll likely add more fandoms as i go :)

#house of the dragon fics #accepting asks #asks open #open asks #requests open #reqs open #a song of ice and fire #a court of thorns and roses fics #the marauders fics #game of thrones fics #sge fics

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multific · 3 months

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Moonlight

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warnings: childbirth (no detailed description)

Summary: Aemond loves his little wife, so naturally, when you give birth to your first son, Aemond falls in love even deeper. However, when a simple refusal of his breaks your heart, it will be difficult for him to win you back.

It was hard to keep you close. You were much like Aemond, a true fighter. You had a fire in you which couldn't be questioned. A fire towards him, pure love. And now, fire towards your son.

Aeren was only born a week ago, yet you protected him fiercely like a dragon.

And you refused to let the small child out of your hands.

When Aemond was allowed in the room, he saw the blood, he heard your screams and many times, he wanted to barge in but he knew he couldn't.

So, once he was allowed in, someone informed him that it was a boy and that you were in bad shape.

Aemond could see it, you looked beyond tired, yet you smiled.

But your smile didn't last long.

Aemond refused to hold his son.

"Give him to me." he heard your voice as he looked from the woman holding his son to you. You looked angry. Way too angry.

It was too late when Aemond realised what he had just done.

He refused to hold his own child.

And since then, you didn't speak a word to him.

You slept in a different room with your baby, sometimes, late at night, he heard the cries. He wanted to get up and go to you but he couldn't, his guilt was overbearing.

"You should put a leash on her, brother. If I had a wife like that, she wouldn't be sleeping in another room." Aegon taunted his brother daily.

One day, you were in the gardens, walking with your son in your arms when Aegon spoke up.

Aemond never heard his brother speak with such longing.

"I truly wish she was mine."

Aemond looked at his brother who was watching you.

"But she's mine." was his simple and firm reply.

But you truly weren't.

You used to be, now, you just sat next to him during dinners.

One night, you excused yourself, and he followed you.

In an empty corridor, he spoke up.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he knew why. He very well knew why.

"I'm sorry, My Prince." you turned and looked at him. "I believe you are mistaken. I'm not avoiding you, I just hate to see the disappointment on your face." this surprised Aemond. "I gave birth to a child you refused to even look at. I loved you, Prince Aemond, I truly did. But I love my child more. And if you cannot look at him, you won't get to look at me. Fill your bed with whores for all I care. Goodnight."

"You are mistaken." he said, not letting you leave, but you did grab the handle. "You-You were in that bed, crying, screaming and bleeding for hours. I couldn't do anything. And when they let me in, the blood... so much... they told me you were weak, you survived but you needed a lot of rest. How-How could I hold my child when the love of my life almost died? How could I look at him when I was worried to even look at you? I feared you would die giving birth. I was shaking. I feared losing you and my child. That is why I didn't hold him. I was scared." you stood there, your hand on the door, you looked away from his eyes.

"Then you could have just fucking say so, Aemond! For fucks sake!"

"That is not very lady-like."

"FUCK lady-like, you made me believe you hate me and our son! I believed I disappointed you since you wanted a daughter."

"I said I would be happy either way. My emphasis was on a girl because I feared if you had a daughter, you would see that as disappointing my bloodline."

"You are fucking terrible at communicating." you opened the door and walked into the huge room in which you stayed the last couple of weeks.

Aemond followed you, and watched as you walked over to the small bed and picked up your son. "Next time, you should just tell me. Letting me assume things clearly don't work out."

"Of course." a small smile found its way onto his lips, next time, it was the promise of a future, a promise of more, something he could work towards. He walked over to you after closing the door. "I wish to hold him." you handed him the small child who didn't even stir in his sleep. "Aeren you named him I recall." Aemond's attention was now fully on his son as you decided to leave the two alone after watching them for a couple of minutes.

You got changed and when you arrived back, Aemond was sitting on the bed, his son on his chest.

"Some nights I heard his cries. It broke my heart but I broke yours far more. I apologise for not being clear and for causing you pain. I am truly sorry."

"I'm sorry as well. I should have asked." you said as you sat down next to him. "I will have to feed him soon."

"I will stay here with you."

You smiled as the moon shined through the window, illuminating the room a little more, helping the fire so you could see your husband's face.

"I love you so much Aemond."

"I love you too, My Queen." you giggled, moving closer to him as he leaned down to kiss you.

You two kissed in the moonlight until your son made it clear that he was hungry.

It all made you look towards a better future.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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targaryen-dynasty · 1 month

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ENCOURAGEMENT.

Daemon Targaryen x little sister!Reader

It's 105 AC. Your brother, King Viserys, wants to throw a feast in honor to announce his wife's pregnancy. You want to attend—if it weren't for the rising doubts about your changing body. But it's good your husband knows a way to ease your worries.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister), mirror sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, female and pregnant reader, lactation, lactation kink, nipple play

WORDS: 2.5 K

NOTES: Thank you for betaing this sweet thing, @happilyhertale! 🤍

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

Frustration brings you to the point you stand completely bare in front of the large mirror that’s been brought into your chambers by the servants, looking at your reflection. To the right hangs a black gown, and to the left a more reddish one. And neither of the two will fit over your swollen curves, you just know by looking at it.

You’ve scared off your ladies-in-waiting a few minutes ago, usually soft-spoken you experiencing an emotional outburst that just called for you to be left alone.

Nearing the six moon mark of your first pregnancy has left your body with scars and marks around your rounded belly and swollen breasts, some even teetering down the insides of your thighs. And yet, when you look at your husband strolling into your martial chambers with not more than a large cloth hanging around his hips, his scarred chest on full display, you can only admire him for wearing them with so much confidence.

But not even your own doubts can stop your eyes from stealing glances, his toned physique managing to put your mind at ease for once. Trailing your eyes over the expanse of his scarred chest down to the dark trail of hair that ends deep below the cloth that conceals most of it. However, it only poorly hides the way his half-hard member prods against the linen with each step he makes towards you.

He makes no secret out of the way his lilac eyes all but devour your body and its curves, although your belly is not yet as swollen as Aemma’s was when she was with Rhaenyra. The pregnancy has made you even more of a woman, and knowing he’s the one responsible for it makes him feel proud but also quite possessive.

“What is it?” he asks, his gravelly voice sending a chill down your spine.

Daemon eventually comes to a stop with his tall frame looming over yours from behind, fingers trailing over your side in an uncharacteristically tender and gentle manner. Every inch of your reflection is devoured by his greedy eyes. “We do not have to attend the feast, you know,” he says. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving myself of the pleasure of spending time with my wife.”

As he bows his head forward to press his lips to your shoulder, the soft strands of his silver hair tickle your skin, making you lean into his embrace and him reaching around you to splay a hand over your swollen belly.

“But I want to go. It’s the feast in honor of the queen announcing her pregnancy, and our brother will be cross with us if we do not attend,” you pout at him. “I just… I just don’t know which dress to choose.”

Daemon, however, knows full well that you’re being less than honest with him about your reluctance to go to the feast, becoming obvious when he starts to trace his fingers over the marks running across the underside of your bump. “That truly is a conundrum,” he says.

Sighing loudly, you try to escape his fingers by leaning further against him. But the friction your rear causes against the cloth is enough to loosen its tie, allowing it to fall to the ground.

The both of you are completely bare now, and he wastes no time in pressing his hard cock snugly into the crevice of your arse, making his desire for you more than clear.

“Let us forget the dresses for now. You know you’ll look ravishing no matter what you wear,” Daemon drawls, running a hand along your side. “Besides, why not allow me to appreciate every inch of you… no dresses involved.”

It sounds far too tempting… if you were in the mood. But with you struggling with your changing body for quite some time now, the thought of unraveling for him discourages you even more. “We do not have time,” you try to protest.

Much to your surprise, your usually insolent husband listens to your words.

“I think you’ll find that we have plenty of time, my love,” he mumbles, taking a step back with his hands raised in defeat. “The time we spend together would be much better than the time spent amongst a bunch of prudes at a feast.”

Not paying a mind to his words, you just nod appreciatively, and bring your attention back to the two gowns still hanging next to the mirror. Perhaps you can make the black one work with the laces tied extra loosely, and you only present at the feast for no longer than two hours.

Daemon stalks around you to stand next to the mirror, shamelessly dragging his eyes over your naked form and watching you inspect one of the dresses.

“Do you not have to dress yourself, husband?” you ask, pinching the fabric of the black dress between your fingers, trying not to pay too much attention to him. But his gaze is intense, burning straight through your skin, and making your body heat up.

You meet his eyes, cocking an eyebrow.

“There is a more important matter for me to tend to,” he objects.

“What are you–” you’re interrupted when your husband grabs the sides of the mirror and hoists it up, bringing it closer to your marital bed.

Turning on your heels, you watch him adjust it and eventually sit down on the bed with both feet planted firmly on the ground. The confusion must be evident on your features, because without a question uttered, Daemon pats his sturdy thigh and parts his legs, silently beckoning you over with a come-hither motion of his fingers.

The sight alone is alluring, his thick cock resting hard and heavy between his thighs, covered in an angry red and aching to be buried inside of you. But wanting to find out what he’s in mind is what brings you closer to him.

You move to climb his lap, wanting to sit astride him like you sit on Silverwing, but Daemon beats you to it. He scoots back slightly and brings his paws to your hips, turning you around. He pulls you back to sit down in the space between his parted legs.

When his hands hook beneath your knees to drape them over his thighs, inevitably exposing yourself to him, you instinctively lean back against him to adjust to the position.

You want to squeeze your thighs together, to hide from him, but his legs stop you from doing so. He brings a hand up to cup your full breast, squeezing lightly and testing the weight and shape of it. They’re full of milk by now, providing for your unborn child, and hard and heavy to the touch.

Pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side, not daring to watch your fully exposed reflection in the mirror. You’ve been bare around him the whole time, and he’s fucked you in ways that would bring a blush to certain people’s faces, but something in the current position and your growing insecurities makes you more vulnerable right now.

Daemon adjusts his fingers so that your taut bud pops up between them, and just a bit of pressure is already enough to coax droplets of your milk to spill from it. Your breathing grows heavy, more so because it’s already enough friction to ease some of the tormenting tension.

“I want to see you full and lovely and large, swollen with my seed and carrying my child,” he mutters against your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your chin, pushing your head forwards to all but force you to look at yourself. “And I want you to watch as I worship that precious body of yours.”

The hand on your chin settles at your throat, not squeezing it but tight enough for it to be a warning for you not to move. The other hand releases your breast and trails down to the apex of your legs. It all happens agonizingly slowly, tracing and following every scar that runs along the curve of your bump, until it finally finds your cunt.

As his fingers drag through it, even your husband can’t seem to stop himself from moaning. “You’re weeping for me, my love,” he rasps, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “So beautiful.” Withdrawing his fingers, they’re glistening with your arousal, connected by faint strings of it as he spreads his fingers.

You whimper, and dip your head back far enough for him to capture your lips. The kiss is sloppy, matching the rhythm he sets up as his fingers trace your cunt.

Daemon hums in approval as you pull away from him to look into the mirror, watching the exact moment his deft fingers ease into you. You gasp at the motion, and put all your weight back against him, melting into his embrace with his muscular arms around you.

There’s a pout on your lips when the pressure of his fingers leaves you again, used to spread apart your folds instead. In the reflection you see his dark blown eyes fixed on nothing else than what lies between your legs, his hard cock throbbing against your lower back as you clench around nothing. “Look how beautiful you look all spread out and ready for me, my love.”

Trying to squeeze your thighs shut, his hand comes from your throat to clasp around one, keeping you spread open for him. “Oh, don’t you dare,” he warns, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

With the heel of his hand pressing snugly against your pearl now, you can’t help but whimper as his fingers enter you again. The pace is slow and languid, making clear that neither of you is in a hurry tonight. It’s all about you.

“Seven hells, just look at you,” he coos against the side of your face, tip of his nose nudging your cheek. He clearly enjoys the confidence you slowly start to muster as his praises go straight to your head, coaxing you to rock your hips against his hand. “You truly have no idea of how much I desire you. Always.”

His words bring another wave of crimson to your cheeks, running down your neck and chest. It’s heaving with all the heavy breaths you inhale, and your taut buds have not softened since he touched them. If everything, his words and gestures have coaxed a few beads of milk to ooze from both, running down the curve of your breasts.

Reaching behind you, your hand rests at the back of his head, entangling into his long, silver hair. “Daemon–” you whimper, but he’s quick to silence you.

“Shush now,” he rasps. “Just enjoy and observe.”

And you certainly do, watching his fingers pump in and out of you as if it’s the most enthralling thing you’ve ever seen.

When he’s sure you’ll keep your legs spread for him, he brings his hand to your full breast again, groping and squeezing it, pinching the little bud to tease even more milk to spill from it.

It’s so much coming together at once. His praise goes straight to your head, making it hazy and longing for more, while liquid fire courses through your veins, ignited by the skilled ministrations of his fingers.

Daemon seems to sense your impending peak, and is determined to work you toward the sweet relief you so desperately crave.

The pace of his fingers increases now, fingers repeatedly brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision blurry. Pleasure soars through your body, and eventually is enough to snap the familiar knot inside of your belly. And that’s also the moment you can’t watch yourself any longer. The pleasure grows to the point you have to close your eyes to be able to thoroughly enjoy it. But your husband doesn’t seem to mind.

“There you go,” he coos, not slowing down the pace of his hands. “Such a good girl.”

Your walls convulse all over Daemon’s fingers, and with you releasing the sweetest and most desperate sounds your husband has heard in a while, he’s sure he could’ve peaked on spot, more so with the vice-like grip you have on his long hair.

His hand works you through the waves of euphoria, just slightly slowing down, and while your mind doesn’t process some of the praises he mumbles against your skin, your body does; with a renewed wave of arousal dripping out of your cunt.

It’s surprising that the pleasure doesn’t get replaced by overstimulation, especially with just how little time he gives you to recover until he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a harsher pace again.

“Gods be good,” you whimper, tipping your head back against his shoulder. Your hand releases his hair and instead you grab his forearm with both, clinging onto it for dear life.

“One more for me, you’re doing so good.”

You have barely time to process the first peak and its repercussions when the second washes over you in an ambush, striking you like lightning. It’s not as intense as the first, but prolonged with his other hand now frantically rubbing your pearl.

“Shh, just let it happen,” he purrs, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek as you struggle against him.

It takes just a few more pumps of his hand until the pleasure subsides, only leaving a wave of bliss in its wake. Daemon’s hands both stop their ministrations, and you finally feel as though you’re able to breathe again.

As you open your eyes, you see him lick the remnants of your arousal off his fingers, before they tease your buds again, gathering some of your milk to lick off of them as well.

Whimpering and whining at the touch, you just slowly catch your breath. He soothes you by snaking both arms around your form, cupping your swollen belly, and presses gentle kisses to the side of your face.

“You’re an absolute vision in this state, and I do not wish for you to ever doubt that,” he mutters against your skin. “You look more desirable carrying my child, than any other woman does in their most provocative dress.”

Releasing a soft chuckle, you turn your head and capture his lips with yours. A chaste peck is not what he has anticipated, but he’s still happy that he was able to lift your spirits.

“Kirimvose, ñuha jorrāelagon,” you whisper. “Care to help me with the black dress?” Thank you, my love.

“Oh, I will,” Daemon says with a teasing lilt in his voice. He grabs you by the waist and carefully hoists you up, but when he lies you down on your back, you know you won’t be getting into the dress so soon. “But I think I need just a little more time to get fully into the spirit of the occasion.”

The moment he climbs on the bed to kiss his way over your marks and curves, you squeal and squirm, entangling your hands into his hair again.

Viserys can never be angry with you two for long anyway.

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youraverageaemondsimp · 3 months

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Sweet Nectar // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary: Aemond feels ever so slightly jealous when he watches his wife feed their babe, he'll have a taste for himself tonight.

WARNINGS: mdni, afab!reader, lactation kink, breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, reader is already a mom, breastfeeding, aemond craving the good old tiddy milk, tiddy sucking, teasing, biting, nipple play, aemond is so down bad for the milkers. + not proofread.

WC: 2,078

A/N: I suddenly got the urge to write this I'm not kidding 😭😭 // diviver credits to @cafekitsune

You coo softly while gently rocking back and forth as the small babe in your arms begins getting fussy in between your arms, you pat her gently and reassure the fussy babe, while caressing her cheek.

“Are you hungry, my dear?” You ask her as if she'll respond verbally, a small croak leaves her throat before she coos, stretching her tiny arms and placing it upon your breast as a way to answer your question. You chuckle at her action before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Shall I take her to the nursemaid, princess?” The maidservant allotted to you questions, putting your comfort as a first priority, you shake your head, “No need, I shall feed the babe myself.” You reject her politely, “Can you undo the lace?” You ask her, and she nods, her fingers making quick work of the lace that's holding the top of your gown together, you pull the material down — along with your chemise — just enough for one of your breasts to be exposed but cover everything else.

You hold the baby in a feeding position, and she immediately latches onto your nipple, suckling as she makes soft satisfied noises, as her hunger is being satiated. You giggle at her cuteness and watch as she closes her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

The door to your shared chamber opens and you lift your head up to see Aemond, carrying a bunch of scrolls and books in his hands, he sets them down on the nearby table before turning his attention to you. “My prince.” the maidservant greets and Aemond nods, “Prepare a bowl of water and a rag, after that, leave us alone.” He commands her and she bows, swiftly beginning to do what she's been told. After the maid leaves the bowl and leaves, Aemond quickly begins to retire for the night, undressing himself, usually, he would call in a manservant or you would help him, but he cannot call the manservant when you're breastfeeding, and neither can you help him because of that.

So he does it himself, after undoing his upper garment, he wears nothing but his white plain transparent tunic and breeches ; that are more suited for sleepwear, loose and thin. Aemond later washes his hands and forearms thoroughly, ridding them of any kind of dirt before making his way to you.

“How was your day, Husband?” You ask him, watching as he comes near and stands next to you, staring at you for a second before sitting down beside you. “Hm, t'was decent, what about you?” He asks you, his gaze dropping down to your chest. “It was good, I did not wish to partake in any social meetings today, but rather decided to spend it with her.” You look down at your child who is now sleeping. Aemond hums before he lays his head on your shoulder getting comfortable in your presence enough to express his desires.

“I want to have my wife tonight.” He mutters, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck as his gaze remains fixated on your chest while he rests his hand on your thigh, slowly drawing imaginary patterns on it, indicating what he wants. Your face heats up at his implications, “You will, husband, let me call the servant and have her taken to the nursery for tonight.” You reply to him, slowly pulling her away from your breast and covering yourself up.

“I will call for the servant.” He offers, hoping to help you out and you nod, he opens the chamber door stepping out and turning to the guard before asking the guard to fetch a servant, to which he immediately obeys and goes to get one. Aemond gets inside, making his way over to you before he takes your child from you and hands her over to the servant who had entered the room just then. “Take care of her for the night in the nursery, should there be any news that she was hurt in any way, I will cut off all of your limbs.” He threatens to which the poor servant just nods her head in fear assuring him that no harm would occur to your child, and then she takes her away.

The door closes and Aemond secures it tightly so it doesn't open upon impact. And all the while Aemond was talking to the servant, you had quickly gotten undressed and were now sitting in your chemise, putting the gown that had fallen to the floor away.

Aemond goes straight to the bed and sits on it and you watch as he removes his eyepatch, placing it on the table next to the bed before he turns his attention to you. He looked so ethereal when he was staring at you, his sapphire glinted as the fire from the chambers reflected off from it. “Come.” He commands and you slowly make your way over to him, now standing in front of him.

He looks up at you the tension thick in the air as his eye is filled with pure desire for you. he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest and pulling you, this causes you to stumble and lose your balance which he takes as an advantage to pull you onto the bed with him, flipping you over and getting on top.

His hair curtains around your face as he stares at you, his eye moving back and forth between your own, taking in your beauty. You raise your hand and gently tuck his hair into his ear before caressing his cheek, “You're so beautiful.” You hear him say and you smile, “I could say the same about you, husband.” You respond, He gives you a small smile before tilting his head slightly and connecting his lips to yours.

His lips felt soft against yours, you reciprocated and kissed him back. You felt the heat bloom in your core as he slowly grinds himself against your lower abdomen while kissing you. He slowly slides his hand against yours before intertwining your fingers with his. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, allowing him to deepen the kiss which resulted in him humming in satisfaction.

He pulled away shortly after, panting for air, his kisses then trailed down towards your neck, he pecked and nipped at the skin of your neck, leaving bite marks as a way to mark you as his, he untwined his hand from yours to pull down your chemise, causing your tits to spill out of their confines.

He presses kisses down to the valley in between your breasts before he stays there for a while, “You know, I'm jealous—” he begins, his other hand coming up and gently fondling with your breast, “— that our daughter gets to have these whenever she wishes, meanwhile I'd have to wait until night.” He whines slightly, his thumb pressing over your sensitive nipple making you gasp slightly.

He decides he doesn't want to waste any more time and immediately wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling and suckling on your breast like a babe, he swirls his tongue and flicks it up and down the bud, Aemond hums in satisfaction when he feels the taste of your milk in his mouth.

He squeezes and fondles your other breast, rolling your nipple between his index and thumb finger and pulling meanly on it. Your breathing becomes shorter and faster as you begin to get aroused by his ministrations which prompts you to rub your thighs together trying to ease the throbbing between your legs with some friction.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Aemomd, but he instead focuses his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions and drinking your milk selfishly for himself, his teeth grazes against your bud and you wince slightly at the burn it causes only for him to bite onto it, making you whine and squirm before he sucks on it again as a way to soothe the pain he just caused. He pulls away with a wet pop and you take notice of the milk that's dripping from the side of his mouth and down to his neck which was such a perverse sight, yet you couldn't help make you feel more aroused so you guided his head back to your breast again.

And so he took your breast in his mouth once again, drinking all of your milk up you moaned in pleasure as his tongue flicker up and down your bud. You whimpered because you are sensitive from earlier feeding.

You felt him humping against your thigh as he tried ease the tension between his very own legs, he let go of your breast, unable to hold himself back anymore, he sat straight up and began to slip down his pants and take off his tunic, you did the same with your chemise, discarding it and throwing it someone to the side of your chamber.

He spreads your legs wide and lines his cock against your entrance slowly pushing it in, this causes you to tremble in excitement as his cock stretches you deliciously, you let out a gasp once he is fully settled. He lifts your hips off the mattress, holding you by your thighs as he slowly begins to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, almost as if he's teasing himself until he begins to pick up on the momentum, thrusting his hips back and forth, he begins to pick up the speed quite steadily.

You grind your hips to match his rhythm as your body jolts up and down the bed, your tits bouncing as a result, the moans of his name leave your lips like holy chants, “Aemond— oh fuck– right there– Aemond—!” all the while his tip is continuously hitting that sweet spot of yours, he grips one of your breasts and stares at it intently, “They look so good when they're swollen and full of milk.” He refers to your tits, he squeezes your tit slightly and watches as droplets of milk begin oozing out. “Oh gods— you're still full– fuck.” He quickly shifts his weight, dropping your lower body down onto the mattress and leaning forward to take your breast in his mouth while he fucks you.

“Seven fucking hells–— I don't think I can ever get enough of this ; perhaps I should keep you pregnant constantly, Yes? So your tits are always full of milk, for the babe” he grunts, his peak nearing as he mouths at your nipple. “And for me— ” His thrusts become more frantic and desperate, “You would like it wouldn't you? I know you would. You'd love to be full of me— I can only imagine how gorgeous you'd look, constantly waddling around while carrying my child— Answer me.” He growls. “Yes yes yes yes! yesyes! Aemond! I'd love it so so so much please please—” You babble as you feel your peak nearing. “Good girl— fuck!” He moans as he peaks, and your babbling is cut short as you gasp because you too reach your high right after him, the pleasure explodes inside you like a volcano, slowly seeping and coursing through your veins, you feel hot, warm, cold, suffocated all at the same time due to the intensity of the pleasure.

Aemond slows down his thrusts before fully stopping and pulling out, he watches as your cunt pushes out his spend to which he tuts disappointedly at before scooping it up with his finger and pushing it all back in.

“Here I am; planning to keep you full of my child and yet you're here denying it? Such a disobedient wife.” He slaps your clit as a punishment making you whimper, “I apologise— t'wasnt my intention.” You reply, breathlessly and he hums.

He lays down next to you, catching his breath along with you. You watch and his hands rests on your lower abdomen. He grabs you by your hips and turns you around to face him before he grabs the sheets and throws them over you both before pulling you close, your breasts pressing up against him, and the milk transfering over to his chest, making it sticky.

“Aem— it's messy.” Your voice comes out slurred and Aemond simply hums, “Let it be.” He hugs you even tighter, and you sigh, before wrapping your arm around his waist, hugging him back and you both slowly drift off into sleep.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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