#stepdad!aemond

[humanpurposes]

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // It's bad enough we get along so well

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+ smut, daddy kink, language, infidelity

Words: 1170

A/n: I just had this idea and couldn't get it out of my head so enjoy :) Also available to read on AO3.

“Say it.” His voice is rough and demanding, and a little breathless as he fucks into her from behind at a punishing pace.

She writhes in the bed beneath him, raking her nails over the mattress, burying her face into the pillows, desperate to take the edge off. “Please,” she half whimpers, “don’t make me say it.”

“You want to cum don’t you, pretty girl?”

Her body flutters at the thought. She decided some time ago his voice is her favourite part of all this, how he teases her, how he talks her through her pleasure and makes his demands.

“It doesn’t even make sense,” she mumbles, “you’re only two years older than me.”

He lets out a low hum, one she knows well by now, an indication of amusement and irritation at her stubbornness. His thrusts slow down but they become harder and more determined. The slapping sound of skin against skin becomes clearer and he leans down, brushing his lips against her ear as he harshly whispers. “I mean it, I’ll keep using you all night, and no matter how much you beg, how hard you cry, you’re not gonna fucking cum. Now-”

Her cunt is clamping over nothing and she’s on her back, gazing up into blue eyes blown with lust. He leans over her again, resting his forehead against hers. His voice is smooth and scathing. “I’ll ask one more time.”

She sighs, instinctively wrapping her legs around him to pull him closer. “I need you, daddy.”

She feels his cock prodding at her entrance, hard and eager, but as much as he loves the feeling of fucking her, he also loves to tease her. “Tell me what you need.”

Her back arches as he drags the tip through her folds and over her clit. The pleasure is mind numbing but she needs more. “I need your cock, daddy, to fill me up and make me feel good.”

Aemond presses a peck to her cheek. He loves her like this, body squirming, pussy dripping and eyes glazed, so desperate and needy, just for him. “Say please,” he whispers softly.

She lets out a little whine, but she could never be bad for him. “Please, daddy.”

He pushes in again, slowly, letting her feel the stretch and every inch of his cock dragging against her sensitive walls. “Does it feel good, baby?” He coos.

“Fuck… yes,” she gasps, sliding her arms along his shoulders and around his neck. She breathes in the smell of him, expensive aftershave, cigarette smoke and sweat. “It feels so fucking good.”

She feels him smiling into her neck. “Was that so hard, baby?”

They hold each other tight as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, she with her arms around his neck and him gripping at the flesh of her waist like she might disappear if he lets go.

And when those little whimpers of “ please , please, ” start to fall from her lips and her cunt flutters around him, he knows she’s close. 

“Come on, baby,” he grunts, “soak daddy’s cock.”

She falls apart under him and he fucks her through it. “Such a good girl for me, such a needy little slut.”

That night he has her cumming over and over again, pinning her to the bed, bouncing her on top of him, taking her from behind like animals in heat, until her eyes are teary and they’re both too tired to think.

When they’re both spent he pulls her into his chest so he can feel her breaths and her heartbeat against his skin. 

For now they get to exist in this bubble, in this fantasy of one another where they’re untouchable, the only two people in existence. But Alys will be back from her business trip in a few days, and they’ll have to return to their ‘normal lives’. Stolen glances across the dinner table, a hand on her waist as he passes her in the kitchen, nights when Alys is working upstairs and his fingers will slip along her thigh and tease her through her pyjama shorts.

Sometimes, if he’s not busy with work, Aemond offers to drive her to uni. It saves her having to get the train, and it gives them half an hour to tease each other, to test each other’s limits. She likes to palm his cock through his jeans and, despite her effortlessly sweet demeanour, whisper the filthiest confessions in his ear as he drives. He wants to pin her against a wall and fuck some sense into her, but by the time they reach a secluded car park on the campus, he has to settle with grabbing her hair and fucking her pretty mouth.

She had a lecture this morning and Alys offered to pick her up later in the evening (saying something about catching up after she had been away) so she figured she might as well use her time wisely and study with one of her friends.

“Does it not bother you?”

She looks up from the article that was already boring her to death.

Suddenly there’s a phone being waved in her face. Her friend has been looking at a LinkedIn post, an action shot of her mum from one of her conferences. Alys looks as glamorous as ever, black hair falling over an emerald satin suit, red painted lips pouted as she speaks to a faceless acquaintance.

But she imagines the friend is referring to the man standing over her shoulder. Aemond has a habit of wearing all black, and business is no exception, but even amongst professionals he wears his usual array of silver hoops and sapphire studs in his ears, while his silver hair is pulled neatly into a long braid. Her eyes linger on the jaw she’s made him tense, the lips she’s kissed, the eyes she so often catches raking over her body.

“Doesn’t it bother you that your mum’s dating a guy the same age as us?"

She feels her cheeks flush and looks back down at her laptop, pretending to look busy. “That’s not strictly true, he’s only two years older than me.”

Alys never told her anything about her father, and she never bothered to ask. Why would she? The Rivers girls had everything they needed. That was until, Alys came home with Aemond Targaryen on her arm. 

The moment she saw him she knew she was fucked. She tried to hide it, that gnawing, restless feeling she felt whenever he looked at her, smiled at her, muttered in her ear.

It’s wrong, she knows it, but then why does it feel so good when he runs his hands over every inch of her skin? Why does it feel so right when his cock is nestled deep inside of her, pushing her closer and closer to the high she craves?

She loves this little game of theirs, taking what they can from each other with the brief moments they have.

It’s never enough, they’re both insatiable, and every time she gets to feel him she needs him more.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #my fics #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

[bbygirl-aemond]

aemond, to helaena, while lying face down on his bed and regretting everything: and then i called him dad.

criston, to alicent, crying tears of joy: and then he called me dad!

#listen criston isn't a stepdad he's the dad who stepped tf UP #aemond targaryen #criston #ser criston #criston cole #ser criston cole #helaena #helaena targaryen #alicent #alicent hightower #quotes #hotd #house of the dragon #incorrect house of the dragon #incorrect hotd #aemond

[aeriondripflame]

do you think criston peels oranges for the green kids yes or no

#his stepdad levels are just so high and he doesn’t even know it #aemond after losing his eye struggles in training and criston was kinda hard on him bc he’s crazy but he brings him a plate of fruit after #it happened source just trust me #guava.txt #ik he says the most nonsense comforting metaphors #‘a dull sword is still a sword *hands fruit*’ um ok thanks i feel better now #criston cole

[kingcunny]

i always forget people took aemonds “history and philosophy” line seriously cause i took it as hes read the seven pointed star (and only the seven pointed star) 37 times

#like once my stepdad told me the only book hes read is the bible #thats aemond to me #aemond targaryen #asoiaf #my posts

[dirtytransmasc]

Light by Sleeping at Last but its Criston being the first person to hold Alicent's youngest 2, promising to always be there, to be their sworn protector

May these words be the first to find your ears ... I hereby pledge all of my days to prove it so

Light but its Cole with little Aegon, watching him long for a father who will never want him, and doing his best to fill the gap.

I'll give you everything I have I'll teach you everything I know I promise I'll do better

Light but its Cole with little Helaena, wanting nothing more than to protect her innocence, to keep her from suffering like her mother had.

I will always hold you close But I will learn to let you go ... I will soften every edge I'll hold the world to its best And I'll do better

Light but its Cole and he's angry, he's angry because Aemond, his Aemond, the boy he was more of a father to than anyone else, was maimed, he had failed to protect him, and now he dedicates all his time to the boys training.

I'll give you everything I have I'll teach you everything I know ... With every heartbeat I have left I will defend your every breath And I'll do better

Light but its Cole loving his kids more than they could ever understand.

Cause you are loved, you are loved more than you know ... Though your heart is far too young to realize The unimaginable light you hold inside ... I will rearrange the stars Pull 'em down to where you are I promise I'll do better

#on my stepdad cole bs #its melting my brain #I've said it once but I'll say it again he was meant to be (a) Father #like in a damn near biblical sense #something about him just ... #its in the same way that Alicent was meant to be (a) Mother #if that makes sense #like they're just so Mother/Father #focus on the capital M/F #it means so much to me #those were Coles kids #he may not have gotten to be there for the beginning of Aegon and Helaena's lives but he made it up to them #and Aemond and Daeron were always his #he would die for those kids #criston cole #feels like this should go in the #platonic alicole #alicole #tags #it just feels right #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #daeron targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd #house of the dragon #team green #pro team green

[bucknastysbabe]

@targaryenbarbie this is your fault

#hotd shitpost #Aemond’s magic phase #stepdad criston

[vhagarlovebot]

i’ve decided to add the tag “★. dark themes!” in my future works including incest/stepcest and all things that can be considered dark since some of you don’t like that kind of content. you can easily block the tag if you want. <3

#𓄹 ˚ ˖ ࣪ ⟢ gwen is talking. #important info #working on a stepdad!aemond / one bed trope fic as i type this #★. dark themes! #<333

[spacerockfloater]

I’m going to preface this post by saying I don’t give a flying fuck about the hate I’m going to receive for the opinion I will be sharing and I won’t bother replying to any comments attacking me for it.

I fucking LOVE that Aemond killed Luke and I wish it wasn’t accidental. I wish Luke’s death was full on intentional, lol.

As a victim of bullying, I’ve been in situations where I have had to fend off 20+ kids as a kid myself. I’ve been verbally, physically, emotionally and psychologically assaulted as a child by other children, simply because I wanted, strived for and had good grades in school, actions that did not affect any of my classmates in the slightest. Therefore, I absolutely sympathise with Aemond, whose lack of dragon and later on his acquisition of one hurt no one (dragons belong to no one, you snooze you lose), yet he still got ridiculed and attacked for it. Yes, Aegon was also a bully and I hate him for it, but ultimately he grows out of it and supports his family, unlike the Strong bastards who remain bullies and assaulters. Oh, and Aemond tried to hit Jace with a rock because he attacked him first. Accusing him for standing up for himself is victim blaming. People who defend the Strong boys are bullies and that’s final.

No, I don’t give a rat’s ass that his attackers were children. Aemond was a child, too, and they ganked him 4v1. It’s crazy how some of y’all support physically attacking someone because you don’t agree with them. It was satisfying to see him kick their teeth in. Aemond and Luke are only 2 years apart, even if the actors’ appearances suggest otherwise. Your age does not excuse you being a fucking piece of shit. Children and teenagers appear on the news daily as rapists, killers, assaulters and all kind of criminals. That’s the reason juvie exists. Children should face the consequences of their actions.

“Are you excusing child murder?” if it is by the hand of the child they unapologetically disabled, fuck yeah. Besides, at the end of the day, Aemond dies, too, so you could say justice is served.

Still, I would have given the Strong boy the benefit of the doubt if it weren’t for this scene:

Lucerys is laughing at Aemond.

He is looking him in the eye and he is laughing at him. It’s been 6 fucking years. Lucerys is 17 (confirmed by the writers) and he feels no remorse for what he did. He was not punished for his action, so he has learned nothing.

He feels safe to mock Aemond, in the comfort and safety of his grandfather’s house, where his guard and stepdad can stop Aemond, whom he cannot beat on his own, from bashing his head against the wall. He feels safe to attack Aemond when he calls him Strong, knowing that other people will finish the fight he started but can’t win.

But what happens when no one is around to protect him from the consequences of his own actions? He shits himself. His face falls, he stumbles backwards and does not object to Aemond calling him Strong.

Not laughing now, huh, you little shit stain?

#hotd #hotd critical #pro team green #anti targ stans #anti team black #team green #team black #lucerys targaryen #prince lucerys #lucerys strong #lucerys velaryon #anti lucerys velaryon #pro aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #anti rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #pro alicent hightower #alicent hightower #anti daemon targaryen #anti targ restoration #anti targaryen #anti bullying #asoiaf #asoif/got #house targaryen #house hightower

[asumofwords]

Masterlist

Hi I'm Tee! I write fanfic and am entirely feral. Smoke, Fire and Ash is my first ever fanfic and is still ongoing. I'm in my mid twenties, and have always enjoyed reading and writing! My AO3 is the same handle @asumofwords

I write for Aemond Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Larys Strong (lol), but am open to writing for other characters such as Joel Miller (TLA), Negan or Daryl (TWD), Loki, Bucky, Zemo, Venom, Miguel O'Hara (MARVEL), Frank Castle (Punisher), open to most GOT characters too.

But I'm also open to writing for other characters so it's best to just ask if you're unsure!! &lt;3

Am excited to explore these characters in my writing in the future!

Currently my requests are CLOSED!

BOUNDARIES FOR REQUESTS: I will not write for anyone who is underage (actor and character) and I will not write anything for stepdad/stepchild fics.

If you would like to be added to a general writing tag list, click here.

Aemond Targaryen:

Smoke, Fire and Ash (COMPLETED)

Dark! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

The Sublet Masterlist (COMPLETED)

Modern!Aemond x Reader, Roommate!AU

Lighthouse - Miniseries - (COMPLETED)

Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Til Death Do Us Part - Oneshot

Dark!Modern!Aemond x Reader, Divorce!Au

Ettore from High Life:

Treat

Michael Gavey from Saltburn:

Midpoint Common Factors

REQUESTS:

Unsought Betrothal - Dark!Aemond Targaryen

Unsought Betrothal Part 2 - Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Cock sizes Drabble

What Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, Jace and Criston fancy.

Linger - Ghost!Aemond x Reader, Possessed!Cregan x Reader, Spooky Season >:)

If you wish to be put on the taglist, please let me know ! :)

#masterlist #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #dark!aemond #aemond #fanfic #hotd #dark! #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #hotd smut #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #dark!fic #fic #series #aemond one eye

[humanpurposes]

My Heart Belongs to Daddy part ii, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // And if it feels good, then it can't be bad

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, spanking, degradation, questionable relationship dynamics, infidelity, mentions of grief/loss, no underage elements

Words: 5900

A/n: Thank you for the love on the first part! Let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming parts or follow me @humanpurposes for updates. Also available to read on AO3.

The wedding of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen is turning out to be exhausting and a little overwhelming. It’s been built up for months as the event of the year in King’s Landing, extravagant and scandalous, which describes the family rather well.

Every room in the Red Keep has been booked to accommodate the city’s elite. It’s a beautiful venue, an ancient redbrick castle overlooking the bay, once a home for royalty, now the flagship of a chain of luxury hotels, and the crowning jewel in the Targaryen empire. 

She glances around the ballroom where the guests are mingling while they wait for the arrival of the newlyweds. It doesn’t take her long to spot her mother, martini in hand, making smalltalk with Corlys Velaryon, who just happens to own the largest shipping company this side of the Narrow Sea. Alys Rivers is nothing if not efficient. 

They had been surprised to receive an invitation at all, but then Rhaenyra has always valued appearances above everything else. They had hardly heard from her since Harwin’s funeral, and even then it was funny half-smiles and overcompensating niceties to gloss over the obvious pain in her eyes. That’s the thing about Rhaenyra, you can never really tell what she’s thinking.

She looked other-wordly floating down the aisle in a white satin and lace gown. Her father, Viserys, CEO of Targ Corp and patriarch of the Targaryen dynasty, walked beside her. Maybe it was the lighting in the Sept or the red and black suit, but he looked pale, and his eyes were heavy and tired. Rhaenyra’s step-daughters, Baela and Rhaena, trailed behind them in matching maroon dresses, while the three Strong boys lined up beside Daemon at the altar. A picture perfect family.

She tried not to judge Rhaenyra too harshly for wearing white– damn purity culture and the misogyny that comes with it, but she couldn’t help but think how she preferred the vintage cocktail dress she wore when she married Harwin.

She’d been too young to remember that wedding, but she’d seen the photos enough times. There was one she especially loved, of the bride and groom on the front lawn of Dragonstone, smiling to each other like they had a secret (turns out they did when Jace was born eight months later), while she and Helaena stood in front of them. Their faces were round and chubby, scrunched into the confused frown toddlers make when they’re made to wear pale pink dresses and carry round baskets of rose petals.

Alys fell out with her parents in her mid teens. She always said it was her uncle Lyonel who was there for her, who saw her through to adulthood, who offered her a room when a shitty ex-boyfriend left her with no money and a positive pregnancy test when she was twenty-two. And having no siblings, she said Harwin was more like a brother to her than a cousin.

Losing one of them would have been hard enough, but losing both had been devastating. In a lot of ways it still is.

“Harwin was so dear to us all,” was all Rhaenyra had said to them on the day of the funeral. So dear it took her just over a year to marry her own uncle.

Not that she’s in much of a position to judge.

A large, gentle hand settles on her back and Aemond hands her a flute of champagne. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

He means the ballroom. Gold paints the vaulted ceiling and trails down the walls, the pillars and the archways, as sunset bleeds in through the windows. 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, trying to hide a grin. 

They’ve managed to avoid each other all day until now. He sat with his siblings at the ceremony, while she and Alys were on a bench at the back of the Sept.

She allows herself a better look at Aemond’s suit; midnight blue, with a subtle floral pattern that would be easy to miss if her eyes were only skimming over it, and a baby blue tie that matches his eyes perfectly. He’s cropped his hair for the occasion too, it’s shorter at the sides but still long enough at the top to run her fingers through, to tug on. He looks beautiful. He always looks beautiful.

His hand stays in place against her back, unassuming but just firm enough to keep her on edge as he leads her further into the hall. “The decor was inspired by Versailles, but the hall itself dates back to the original Keep. You’re into this sort of stuff, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t know why he needs to ask. At this point he knows better than anyone what she’s ‘into’. 

“This used to be the throne room,” she says, nodding to the platform at the end of the hall. “Imagine, the Iron Throne used to sit there and now it’s a stage for fucking a jazz band.”

The corners of his mouth curl into a reserved smile that makes her heart hum. Aemond is rarely one for obnoxious laughter, but then every time she can make him smile it feels like a little victory. It hurts a little too.

They settle at the edge of the room and his hand slips away, but he makes up for it when he leans into her, close enough that she can smell the dark, almost boozy scent of his perfume on his neck. “How are you doing, by the way?”

It’s a question she’s avoided asking herself. She spots Jace, Luke and Joff across the room, sitting down at a table with Aegon, Daeron and another guy she doesn’t recognise. They look happier than she feels, and suddenly she feels ridiculous for wallowing in her own self pity.

She shrugs. “Alright I think.”

Aemond’s face is somewhere between a frown and amusement, the face that means I can see right through you.

She shifts on her feet, looking for something else to focus on.

Larys Strong, she notices, is standing by the bar. They had run into him at the Sept, and though they’d definitely made eye contact, he made no attempt at conversation. He keeps his head low, only looking up to glare at Alys.

“Gods that man’s pathetic,” Aemond mutters, following her line of sight. “Not still upset about Harrenhal, is he?”

“Considering mum took half his clients when she left, I’d say yes. He’s always been good at holding grudges, creepy uncle Larys.” Harwin’s brother, director of what used to be King’s Landing’s most successful PR firm, recently overtaken by Rivers PR.

“Shouldn’t that be ‘creepy second cousin Larys’?” Aemond says with a little smirk.

“My version has better ring to it, rolls off the tongue easier.”

A hand suddenly slaps her shoulder and she nearly drops her glass. Aemond quickly takes it from her as Viserys Targaryen pulls her into a stiff embrace and makes a grand exclamation about love and family that she forgets to pay attention to.

She’s a little bewildered but manages to smile. “Good to see you again, Mr Targaryen,” she says. As she pulls away she catches the eye of the woman standing over his shoulder. Alicent Hightower has donned her usual shade of dark green in a velvet dress that compliments her auburn hair and elaborate gold jewellery perfectly. She has a particularly sour look on her face this evening.

“How are you, love?” Viserys asks. “Doing well I hope?”

A thousand thoughts flood her head, but she can already see the interest dying in his eyes. So she just nods.

“How is school, you’re still at school, aren’t you?”

“She’s at the university, dear” Alicent corrects him, “final year, yes?” Her lips thin as her eyes finally spares a glance for her son. “Two years behind Aemond.” 

Mother and son exchange a vacant look.

“Yes,” she says, making her best attempt at Alys’ networking voice, “I study History–”

“Excellent! Well wonderful to catch up, and good to see you too, son.”

Aemond nods in acknowledgement as his parents move away to offer a similarly shallow greeting to the next group of guests. His breath tickles over her neck as he sighs. At least Rhaenyra tries to act friendly. 

“I’m sorry–” she blurts it out, not really sure why she assumes it’s her fault.

He smiles. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

There’s an uneasy feeling of guilt settling in her stomach. She knew Aemond wasn’t on the best of terms with his parents, but she hadn’t realised it had gotten to a point where they would hardly even look at him.

Her fingertips brush over his as he hands her back the glass.

She watches his eyes as they start to skim over her lavender summer dress, the thin straps running over her shoulders, the dainty gold necklace on her neck and the gathering of silky fabric at her bust. 

“You look lovely by the way,” he says.

For a moment she forgets how to breathe. Maybe she should be used to his compliments and praises by now, but it still makes her nervous. “For a lovely occasion,” she says, taking a tentative sip.

“Hmm.”

“Not a fan of weddings?”

“Not overly fond. This…” he briefly sweeps his gaze around the room, at the endless arrangements of orchids and roses, the crystal centrepieces on the tables and the perfect smiles that are just a little too forced. “It’s all very pretentious.”

“I would have thought you like that, all the pomp and ceremony.”

He huffs a laugh as he takes her glass and casually brings it to his lips. “Call it a combination of circumstances.” He keeps his eyes on her as he tips the glass back. 

She does the same, admiring the sharp features of his face, his jaw, his chin, his neck and the way it bobs when he swallows.

He “tsks” at the dryness of the champagne and hands her back the glass. “Things with my family have never been straightforward.”

But even less so over the last year, she imagines. For most of her life, the Targaryens existed at a distance. She and Alys used to see more of the Strongs– Harwin, Rhaenyra and the boys– for birthdays, the occasional family dinner and that summer they joined them at Dragonstone. But that was before things really started to get messy, before the lawsuits and the infighting.

None of it is helped by the fact that Viserys and Alicent despise Alys. They think she’s an opportunist, desperate for some profitable connections, stealing away their golden boy. She knows her mother better than that. Alys is less of an opportunist, more of a pragmatist, and to her credit she doesn’t pretend to be oblivious to the benefits of dating the son of the wealthiest man in Westeros. 

She likes to think Aemond’s more than that though. A little less entitled than Rhaenyra, and certainly more motivated than Aegon, but brilliant in his own ways. He has a first class degree in International Relations from the University of Oldtown, a quiet but mysterious public persona, with a Hightower work ethic and an understated confidence, usually wrapped up in a Prada suit or a vintage leather jacket. 

She finishes her drink before she asks, “have you spoken to Jace and Luke yet?”

His face darkens. Another point of conflict. Aemond had a falling out with the Strong boys when they were kids, something to do with inappropriate use of a kitchen knife on Luke’s part, resulting in the scar slicing down the left side of Aemond’s face. By some miracle it managed to spare his eye.

“Might be worth saying ‘hello’ at least?” She suggests.

He glances over at their table with his lips pressed together, rubbing his thumb over his index finger.

Before she knows it her hand is on his bicep, stroking her thumb over the fabric of his suit. It’s her usual reaction when she notices he’s anxious.

His eyes meet hers. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep inhale. “Maybe later,” he mutters.

A rush of cheers and applause announces the arrival of the bride and groom. Rhaenyra has changed from the elaborate gown she wore to the Sept to a black slip dress, with rows and rows of diamonds dripping from her neck. They make their way to the high table and the guests begin to settle at the round tables around the hall. She doesn’t look back to Aemond before she heads for Jace and the others.

Jace is in his first year at KLU studying politics. It’s a small campus and she often sees him hanging around the humanities block or in the library. Understandably he’s not been himself these last few months.

“Alright?” he says brightly, pulling her into the first genuine hug she’s received all day.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “You?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure?”

Jace seemed so much younger a year ago. All three of the Strongs seem to have grown up far too quickly. “It’s just been… things have changed so quickly.” He runs his fingers through his dark curls, grown down to his shoulders, she notices. “I just miss him, you know?”

 She offers him a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, of course.”

“But Daemon’s great. He makes mum happy. That’s what matters most.”

She sits between Aegon and the other guy at the table and realises she vaguely recognises him. He looks older than Jace, with dark hair, surprisingly sleek stubble and silver direwolf cufflinks on his sleeves.

The dinner is infuriatingly exquisite; seared tuna, steak that almost melts in her mouth, followed by a raspberry and rose pastry and a lemon posset topped with purple primrose petals. It’s all pretentious and so very Targaryen.

Her eyes keep wandering. There’s a haunting kind of beauty about watching Daemon and Rhaenyra. They keep their fingers intertwined and share smug, knowing glances. They fit perfectly together, despite the taboo of it all.

Alys and Aemond are at a table with the Velaryons and Aemond’s sister, Helaena and her girlfriend. Alys keeps a hand over Aemond’s as she talks to Rhaenys and Corlys about some (no doubt dull) business venture, but she’ll make it sound brilliant. Her skills of persuasion are second to none.

She had half expected Aemond to follow her, but that was a stupid expectation, wasn’t it? She’s enough to fuck behind closed doors, not enough to sit beside at a wedding dinner.

She needs to stop getting her hopes up. She needs to stop looking for more from him because she’s only setting herself up for failure. But that’s just the problem, she wants to cling to every look, every hand against her back, every whisper in her ear, and convince herself that, whatever this is, that it’s for something more than just carnal desire.

She often finds herself wondering if Alys really loves Aemond. It started off as a casual thing, from what she could gather without wanting to know the details. Alys would go on these overnight ‘work trips’, which she suspected were really dates.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she came downstairs one morning to find Aemond Targaryen in the kitchen, leaning over the island and sipping an espresso. That was after his last fight with Alicent and Viserys. He had been planning to retreat to Aegon’s, but ended up spending the night with Alys instead.

She watches Aemond, running a slender finger over his fork, his eyes moving sceptically around the room, until they settle on her.

He smirks, and then he turns to strike up a conversation with his sister. 

Alys certainly likes him enough to get him involved in Rivers PR, to let him live in their house and sleep in her bed.

What does he get out of it, she wonders?

“Got your eye on someone?” 

The unfamiliar voice snaps her out of her trance. The boy with black hair is leaning into her.

She glances down at his cufflinks. “Stark?” She guesses.

“Cregan. My dad’s an old mate of Viserys’.”

He’s a politics student too, a classmate of Jace’s and captain of the KLU rugby team with the muscles to prove it. She recognises him a little better as they talk; he was at Baela’s Halloween party last year, though they hadn’t spoken then.

Jace shoots her a quick wink from across the table and inclines his head ever so slightly towards Cregan. She swears under her breath and rolls her eyes at him. Gods, as if she needs help from her cousin to get laid. 

It’s Aegon who starts ordering rounds of shots. She tries to stick to champagne at first, until she looks across the room again. Aemond leans into Alys, as though he might kiss her, but she turns her head and his lips settle on her cheek.

After seeing that, she reaches for the tequila, met with cheering from Aegon and Daeron. 

Daemon and Rhaenyra take to the floor and sway to a dreamy number played by the jazz band. Rhaenyra soon takes Helaena by the hand and Daemon grabs his girls to join them on the dancefloor.

She smiles as she watches them all, Rhaenyra and Helaena spinning around each other, Baela and Rhaena giggling at Daemon’s smooth moves that come straight from a 50s movie.

“I feel like we should go up,” Jace says. 

Luke starts to groan but Joffrey is already up  and dragging his brothers with him.

Aegon turns to her in his seat. The oldest of the Targaryen Hightower siblings and undisputedly the messiest, but she had found him the most approachable that Summer at Dragonstone. “What do you say, kid?”

How could she say no to that sly, self-assured grin and those puppy dog eyes? They’re a little duller than Aemond’s, closer to grey than blue. She lets him lead her to the dance floor. 

As she and Aegon sway to the charming brass and bass, she wonders if Aemond is watching them. She doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of checking. Not just yet.

Aegon leans into her ear. She ignores the sour, bitter smell of alcohol on his breath. “How is Aemond?”

It takes her off guard. She finds herself a little perplexed, eyebrows raised and lips parted as she tries to think of an answer that won’t seem suspicious.

But having to think about it at all must be incriminating.

Does Aegon know? If he did know, why would he want to bring it up?

“Good, as far as I’m aware.”

Her internal crisis seems to evade his attention. His eyes move between the space over her shoulder and the floor as he gnaws slightly on his lip. “Look, I know this isn’t your problem, but I just worry about him.”

Aegon Targaryen, worried about his brother?

“He said things were difficult lately.”

“Gods yeah, things have been tense with dad trying to sort out his will. Mum and Rhaenyra have been at each other’s throats, then there’s granddad trying to get something out of it all. It’s a fucking mess.” 

Realistically she doesn’t know him that well, but between their few interactions and what she’s heard from Jace and Luke, Aegon is easy to understand. It’s strange seeing him so concerned, about anything really.

He sighs heavily. “Then Aemond went and completely fucked up a contract with Storm’s End and mum was livid.”

“That’s it? They fell out over a work issue?”

“She needed it. She’s really pushing for Aemond to take over from dad, because Gods know once Rhaenyra’s in charge she’s not letting the Hightowers get a fucking look in.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I’m the designated disaster child, no one expects anything from me. Aemond’s always been perfect. And now he isn’t.”

It would explain the dramatics of it all.

“Are they happy? Him and Alys?”

She’s not sure how she should know, or what the criteria for ‘happy’ would even be.

“They must be. I don’t see why he would stick around otherwise.”

Aegon’s lips flash into a crooked smile that disappears as quickly as it comes. “I think he wanted to get out. I said he could come live with me, hells, he could afford his own place.”

“So why doesn’t he? Get his own place, I mean.”

“He likes the distraction, something to get him away from Targ Corp, and the rest of us, I suppose. I think he needed an escape.”

The pace of the music picks up in a flourish and Aegon spins her under his arm. Aemond is looking at them.

At some point in the night, the band is swapped for a playlist of songs everyone knows the words to, and closer to midnight the hall becomes a haze of thumping bass and sparse bursts of red and green lights. She loses count of the number of cocktails she’s had, all she knows is her mind is buzzing blissfully. She feels happy and careless, but one drink away from a nasty hangover in the morning.

Aemond is still at his table, sipping a glass of what she guesses is whisky. He loves an old fashioned, if they’re out for dinner or if he makes it himself at home. He talks to Rhaenys and Corlys, and has a brief exchange with Daemon and Rhaenyra when they come over to him, but other than that he just sits and watches her.

She’s not sure how she ended up dancing with Cregan. He wraps a large, muscular arm around her waist and holds her close against him. 

He brings his lips to the shell of her ear, shamelessly letting them brush against her skin. It feels nice. “Sure you’ve not got your eye on anyone?”

She smiles even though he can’t see her face. “Why is it important?”

“I’m trying to figure out what my chances are here,” he says as his mouth moves along her cheek.

She giggles as she pulls away from him. “You’re lovely,” she says.

“But?”

A hand lands firm on her shoulder. She recognises his perfume and a cool steel ring against her skin.

She turns into Aemond and puts her hands on his chest. “Are you going to dance with me?” 

Aemond holds her wrists and leans into her so that she can hear him over the music. “I think you look tired.”

“I don’t feel tired. Where’s Alys?”

He cocks an eyebrow like he’s irritated she would ask. “She went to bed an hour ago.” Then his mouth curls into a smug pout. “Do you want me to take you upstairs?”

He starts to stroke his thumbs over her hands and his eyes, though hard to make out through the darkness, are fixed on hers. She can’t quite catch her breath. “Yeah, I do.”

They don’t speak as they head up. Her room is on the third floor, and they could take the lift but a few other guests have had the same idea. Quicker and quieter to take the stairs.

Occasionally her hand brushes against the sleeve of his suit but he doesn’t react. She listens to his breath, heavy and pointed, and imagines he might want to say something but keeps deciding against it.

They reach the hall on the third floor, lined with mahogany panelling, vintage gold lamp shades mounted on the walls and patterns of dragons swirling in the red carpet. It’s empty, so she weaves her arm through his. 

Aemond holds her arm tight. “Had a nice time?”

It was nice to see her Strong cousins. It was nice to chat to Baela, and get to know Rhaena a little better. It was nice to dance with Cregan and to know Aegon cares about his brother.

“Yeah,” she sighs, letting her head drop against his shoulder. “You?”

Aemond starts to tell her about a conversation he had with Corlys about some new customs regulations that could screw over his company. She likes to watch him when he’s explaining something, how he moves his hand around, how he tilts his chin up and presses his lips together when he’s thinking.

When they come to her door she drags herself away from him and swipes her keycard over the lock. The door is heavy and Aemond reaches over her to prop it open as he follows her inside. 

He switches on the low lights and hovers by the door to the ensuite, muttering about tariffs while she slips off her heels and places her jewellery on the vanity.

He looks deliciously casual and self-assured, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, the warm lights dancing over his cheekbones and the shape of his nose. “...they just can’t compete with the Triarchy, not to mention the extra costs…”

His eyes drift to where she stands. They stare at each other for a moment. The silence is screaming at her.

“Who was the guy you were dancing with?” He asks.

“Friend of Jace’s. He studies politics.”

Aemond hums and smiles to himself. “Looked like the two of you were getting on very well.”

She could point out his poorly placed frustration and that their entire involvement revolves around someone else.

“Is that why you came over?”

He’s still smiling but there’s an intensity to his stare. He puffs his chest a little as he takes a slow breath. He taps his fingers three times against the wall. “Did you like him?”

Restraint is one of Aemond’s most defining traits, she thinks, everything about him is meticulously planned, and every decision is a considered one. Restraint is also his downfall in some cases. He rarely raises his voice or gives into his impulses, but he tries too hard to hold back and craft his perfect image. It excites her whenever she sees the cracks and inconsistencies in him. They feel sacred, another secret she gets to keep.

She takes a few slow steps towards him, until she can smell his perfume again. “I might have done.”

“Might,” he echoes. “If it weren’t for what?”

She tilts her head. His eyes are soft and his lips are parted. She holds the scarred side of his face in her hand and kisses him. She intends it to be slow and reassuring but it’s too easy to get lost in him. She presses herself into him and caresses the back of his neck and she deepens the kiss.

Until his other hand cups her head, lightly pushing her away. “I should go back to the party,” he whispers. 

“Why?”

He takes a breath through his nose.

“Stay with me for a little while,” she says, nudging her forehead against his. “I need you.”

His face starts to light up, a familiar playfulness in the curl of his mouth. “Need me?”

She trails her fingertips down his shirt, tracing over his chest and the ridges of his abs, dangerously close to his belt. “Aemond, please.”

He walks forward and she stumbles with him until her back is against the opposite wall. He grips her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look up at him. “Try again, sweetheart.” His voice is low and it makes her feel weightless.

“Please, daddy,” she whispers. 

He half growls a “hmm” before he pulls her into him to claim her mouth. His kiss is firm, slow and hungry. She was right about the whisky. She can taste it on his tongue and feel it tingling on her lips.

His knee slides under her dress, between her thighs, and pushes up. She gasps at the pressure and starts to rut her hips against him.

“You’re so eager,” he hisses, “what a desperate little slut I’ve made out of you.”

His hands slip under her thighs to carry her to the edge of the bed. He’s careful as he draws her dress over her head and lays it out over the armchair by the window.

He leans over her, laying her down, working lips, tongue and hands over every inch of her bare body. He starts by kissing her neck, sucking at the soft spot that always makes her melt. His hands run over her collar to her breasts, kneading and pinching her nipples between his fingers. Then he goes lower, planting a trail of kisses down the valley that leads to her waist and her stomach. Usually he likes to drag this out, treat her to divine torture until she had to beg, but tonight he is urgent, no less desperate than she is.

His hands run down her thighs, skimming one moment and squeezing the next. And then she feels his lips against her panties.

“Oh you do need me, don’t you?” He teases. “You’re already so wet for me, baby.”

She writhes against his mouth, desperate for just a little more friction. “Oh fuck, please, daddy, just–”

“Not yet.” He stands over her, slips off his suit jacket and starts to roll the sleeves of his shirt, exposing the pale skin of his forearms. “I’m going to take care of this pretty pussy, but first you’re going to tell me why the fuck you thought you could flirt with Stark, right in front of me.”

She gazes up at him. His expression is stern and intense, and she finds it thrilling.

He pulls her to her feet and takes her place sitting at the edge of the bed, running his hands over the silky fabric covering his thighs. 

“Come here,” he orders, taking her hand and guiding her to drape herself over his lap. She can feel the bulge in his pants pressing into her stomach.

He’s gentle at first, stroking his palm over her ass, toying with different pressures and patterns.

The first slap is gentle. 

“How many– ah!”

The second slap is harsher and she groans at the sting it leaves behind.

“You’re gonna take what I give you,” he says, stroking softly again while his other hand rests on her neck. “We’re done when I say we’re done.” Slap. “Understood?”

“Fuck!” She gasps, “yes, daddy.”

“Hmm, that’s my good little girl,” he says, running his other hand through her hair. It’s comforting, lulling her into compliance. “Now, have you got an answer for me?”

“I wasn’t trying to flirt,” she utters.

Her answer is met with a few succinct blows. She doesn’t care to count them. She breathes through it, focusing on the burn and controlling her reactions to it. She tries to keep her hips still, but she can feel her pussy throbbing and her arousal dripping between her legs.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Aemond warns. “You’re smarter than that, baby, I know you are.”

He switches between tenderness and pain so easily. Every time she feels his hand against her flushed skin her belly tightens and she starts to shiver, never quite sure what to expect.

“Do you know what I think?” He asks, slipping finger underneath her panties, circling through the wetness and the sensitive flesh of her pussy. “I think you’re just a needy little whore, desperate for my attention. But it’s okay baby, I know you can’t help it, right?”

She can’t help the broken whimper that escapes her throat as he inches closer to where she needs him most, or the cry that comes when he withdraws his touch delivers another stinging slap.

“Shh, baby,” Aemond coos, “I know it hurts but I need you to know you’re mine,” a point he emphasises with another few strikes that have her squealing and squirming over his lap. 

“I’m yours,” she mewls.

Slap. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, daddy!” She cries, “only yours.”

He strokes his palm over her again and she grips the duvet, expecting another slap. Instead, he curls his fingers over the hem of her panties and slowly drags them down over her thighs. “I’m going to take care of you, baby,” he says, planting a kiss at the base of her neck, “just like I always do.”

Unable to form a response, she nods absentmindedly. The anticipation is driving her crazy but she trusts him completely.

He positions her with her back on the bed again, and kneels before her. He kisses along her thighs, groaning with satisfaction at her little whimpers and moans.

He leans in and kisses her pussy as sweetly and delicately as he would her cheek, letting his lips linger against her. “I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day,” he says, teasing her with gentle pecks and licks while his hands knead at her thighs. “You looked so pretty in your little dress, I couldn’t wait to take it off and have you laid out for me, just like this.”

She runs her hands through his hair as he deepens his movements, that delicious feeling rising and rising as he draws his tongue from her entrance, up to tease her clit, and back down again.

He slides a single finger in, letting out a soft groan at her slick and the sound it makes as he inches further in.

Her hips buck when he starts to flick his tongue over her clit, met by the weight of his hand against her stomach to hold her in place.

“Just relax, sweetheart, be a good girl for me, that’s it.”

Her eyes start to glaze over as her orgasm builds slowly. Agonisingly slowly. She stills her hips, fighting the urge to grind against his mouth. She’s left panting and groaning, desperate for more but she has to be good for him. 

“Daddy,” she chokes, feeling a single tear stream down her temple. “Please… please…” she whimpers as she feels herself hurtling closer and closer to the edge. Just a little more and she’ll fall apart.

“There you go,” he hums, pushing deeper and working his tongue faster. “I want you to cum, baby, want you to finish all over my mouth.”

Finally she comes with a stuttering moan, back arched and pleasure rippling through her body, leaving her pleasantly numb in the afterglow.

Aemond presses a sweet kiss against her quivering cunt, trailing back up her body, coming to nuzzle into her neck.

“You alright?” He whispers. “I’m not being too harsh, am I?”

She turns her head to look at him. His eyes are so bright and his breath washes over her skin. He’s still wearing his shirt. She wants to tear it off him, feel every inch of him with no barriers or modesty.

It just slips out, mindless and simple, like a breath or a heartbeat. “I love you.”

He looks at her, wide-eyed and vague. She leans up to kiss him and he pulls away.

Then he comes to his feet, looming over the bed. He wipes his hand over his mouth and drags it over his chin. 

She’s sure her heart has stopped beating. Why is he staring at her? Why hasn’t he said anything?

“I should…” His eyes dart around the room, to his suit jacket discarded on the floor. Then back to her, trembling, breathless and bare. 

She props herself up onto her elbows, drawing her legs together. She’s never felt ashamed of herself in front of him before. 

“Aemond?”

Suddenly he snaps out of whatever trance he’s been under.

“Night,” he mumbles, disappearing around the corner of the ensuite. The door opens. The door clicks shut.

Her hands shoot up to her hair, tugging and gripping, if only to have something to do with her hands. When it gets too painful she smooths her hands over her neck. Her pulse drums under her skin and beads of sweat trail down her back.

What the fuck was that?

Tags : @marthawrites @randomdragonfires @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy

#my fics #aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern au #house of the dragon fanfiction #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

[bbygirl-aemond]

alicent: aemond's at that very special age where a boy has only one thing on his mind. criston: ...girls? aemond, clenching his fist: homicide.

#criston still chooses to be aemond's stepdad after this btw #alicent hightower #alicent #criston cole #ser criston cole #criston #ser criston #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd #house of the dragon #quotes #incorrect house of the dragon #incorrect hotd

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧; 𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑤𝑜

I’m so overwhelmed by the House of the Dragon trailer and the photos and the theories and the new hair and the DRAGONS and UGH.

THE NEW DRAGONS!

Sunfyre!

Looking very similar to Syrax tbh ... I cannoot wait to see him in the sun. He's supposed to be so PRETTY.

Moondancer!

The mount of Baela Targaryen - bbys grown up! She looks a bit reptillian like in the face and we haven't really seen that in the other dragon designs and I'm here for it!

I'm not 100% sure but I think this is ...

Dreamfyre!

The mount of Helaena (and other Targaryens, Dreamfyre is very quite old). I hope she's more blue in the sunlight - oor maybe this is Vermithor??? What do you guys think?

THE NEW LOOKS!

Rhaenyra wearing her hair up seems to be the new look now. Out of her face, ready for battle, ready to take her rightful place.

Alicent doesn't seem to be wearing her more ... modest clothing. The last time we saw her, she was dressed with a large pendant of the Seven Point star (faith of the seven). To me, it feels like she's unravelling. Her faith seemed put on, and now her focus is entirely somewhere else.

Daemon back with the long hair; personally my favourite. Anyway, anyway, the trailer hinted at the battle between Aemond & Daemon... I have no idea how this is going to play out but I trust the creators.

THE NEW CHARACTERS!

(ew aegon)

These must be new members of his small council?

Jace going to the Starks for aid. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I can't wait to see these interactions.

I really don't like this relationship. Mostly becaise I don't like Criston Cole. But I do think Criston has moved into a bit of a stepdad-like position for Alicent's children. Well, at least Aemond and Aegon. It's also insinuated that Alicent and Cole have a sexual relationship.

And look at my poor lovely Helaena, we know what's going to happen... I hope her story changes in some way. She deserves justice, and to have more screentime for the character. She's way more interesting to me than Aegon - he's so dry, boring, awful.

LOOK AT MY GIRLS, JUST LOOK AT THEM! Amongst the council, wearing the colours of their father's House. Baela & Rhaena are my sweet girls.

(can't believe all this is happening because rhaenyra & alicent were in love...)

photo cred: Dae on pinterest

#witchthewriter #HotD #house of the dragon #hotd2 #house of the dragon season 2 #overwhelmed #team black #queen Rhaenyra #baela looks stunning #Rhaena looks ethereal #my girls #AND THE DRAGONS #alicent x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenicent #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #joffrey velaryon #joffrey targaryen #harwin strong #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #heleana targaryen

[dirtytransmasc]

Modern (platonic) Alicole/Stepdad Criston hc's

Alicent and Criston became close friends as a means to cope with past traumas at the hands of Viserys and his family. they were the only ones who understood what happened to them and how they were trapped.

Criston being absolutely enamoured by her first two kids, who were still so little and helpless. forming a tight bond with the two, stepping up as their father when Viserys couldn't have cared less about them.

Criston claimed those kids as his own in his heart the day he met them.

Criston helping take care of the two through Alicent's last two pregnancies. being found more often than not with a kid on his hip, snuggles up against his chest, and another leading him through her favorite spot in the garden.

Criston being by her side, helping her with everything, from buying groceries, cooking dinner, cleaning, volunteering to watch the kids during the day, helping with bath time and putting them down for naps/the night. he becomes a second parent just cause he wants to.

Alicent demands that he be allowed in the room with her when she's delivering her last two kids. She wants to hold the hand of the only person she trusts when she's going through actual agony. Criston almost causes a scene when they take her away for a c section due to Aemond's labor being too difficult, and not being allowed to follow. being right back by her side the very second he's allowed.

Alicent letting him hold Aemond first, as she was too weak and tired to do it herself, and Criston swearing himself to the boy before he can even fully take him from the nurse.

Cristons support rising tenfold with the newest addition.

Criston starts sleeping on her couch so he can help with the nightshift. more often than not he's got at least one of the two elder children tucked in his side or sleeping on his chest.

Alicent suggesting he just moves in at that point and clearing out an old room for him to stay in. she secretly feels safer and saner when he's around, though she'll say its for his and the kids' sake.

Alicent making sure its in her birth plan that Criston stays with her no matter what happens with her delivery of Daeron so she won't be alone again.

the pair fleeing with the kids the second Viserys dies, moving at least a few counties over, away from the memories. Criston tries to live on his own, to give her and the kids space, but Alicent is not having that and almost demands that they stay together, they're family now and the kids need him, she needs him. it doesn't take much convincing, and they end up in a spacious suburban home with a yard and good school district.

Criston being called dad by the youngest 3 kids, but not by Aegon, who has a negative association with the titles, as he's never met a good father figure in his life. Criston making sure the boy doesn't feel bad about it and that he feels equally loved.

Criston staying up all night with sick kids, rubbing their backs and kiss their foreheads to check their temperatures. running out in the middle of the night for cough syrup and gatorade.

Criston sitting at the dinner table doing math homework, glasses, scrunchy face, and all.

Criston taking Helaena to her schools daddy daughter dances, only to sit on the floor in a back corner and talk about bugs. he knows she doesn't want to go to the dance itself, just likes what it represents. she likes going with her dad.

Criston going to all of Aemond's fencing tournaments and all of Daeron's sports events, coaching little league, being the loudest guy in the stands.

pushing Aegon to tap into his potential, getting him into all sorts of little hobbies and activities, not letting him give up on himself.

has to answer the "well are you the dad?" question all the time. he claims those kids as his every time, saying that not being their legal father or the fact that Aegon doesn't call him dad, won't ever change that.

after a couple years of staying together, Alicet and Criston join a civil union, not wanting the weight of marriage or all the questions that people who don't know better will ask, and they have the kids with them. Aemond tucked behind his mum's leg, Helaena holding onto her dress with one hand and Criston's finger in her other, Aegon's standing behind her, shifting between seeking his mom's affection and Cristons, resting his head on their shoulders, with Daeron on Criston's hip. everyone's tearing up just a bit. Criston's looking at his soulmate and at her children with such adoration. Alicent's feels truly secure for the first time in her life. all is well.

the topic of adoption came up time and time again, a complicated and touchy subject. its not necessarily that any party was against it, it just felt like something Criston could not ask of Alicent, to claim her children as his own in a literal, legal, weight-bearing sense. he also felt it was something he couldn't ask of the children, to officially accept him as their father and legal guardian. but on Aegon's 17th birthday, it comes up again, and its Aegon who asks him to; his eldest boy, with all of his issues with being open and vulnerable, reaching out into uncharted territory, asking him to adopt him? how could he even think of refusing?

he fights to adopt those kids as quickly as possible, while also making sure all of them, especially Aegon, see their therapists about the whole thing (both Alicent and Criston are acting as cycle breakers for both themselves and their kids, they're all in therapy).

held Aegon's hand all throughout rehab, holding him accountable where he needed to be and made sure he put the work in, but he was a very supportive person for him through the whole thing. especially cause Aegon was worried about hurting his mom more than he already had, and hated seeing her worry about him. probably the only reason he got through it all.

Helps Helaena with her studies and coping with school and the idea of life away from home and at college. cheered her on all through her studies as she studied in different fields to find her true passion.

when Aemond loses his eye (get creative, I don't feel like figuring out a how in this situation) he's there for occupational therapy, every time, doesn't matter what he had to call out of or miss out on. didn't let him feel like he was odd or behind, he was his perfect boy through and through.

dog dad, got each of the kids there own dog. Aegon for his recovery (some shaggy retriever mix Aegon fell in love with while doing community service at the pound), Helaena for something to take to college (a majestic Weimaraner), Aemond to help cope with his eyes (a big old Irish wolfhound tha practically mothers him, Daeron got one so he had a running partner that might actually keep up with him (a Dalmation). Criston helps take care of all of them and loves them just as much as his human children. lets just say that house is chaos and full of hair. Alicent is very happy with her cat, who loves her and tolerates everyone else. [for the dogs I picked a breed I felt best fit both their dragons but also their personality and reason for getting a dog. Aemonds was the hardest to decide on and I'm iffy on it I like it but oh well]

takes the kids out on daddy daughter/father son dates on the regular. normally Aegon just wants to watch a movie, but he has asked to go to a stripclub more times than criston can count (and vetoed). he's tired. he loves his son he swears. Helaena will ask to go to a museam or garden. Aemond and Daeron will settle for any sort of physical activity (so long as its followed by a sweet of some sort, ice cream is a personal favorite for the three).

the kids and Criston make sure to spoil their mom on mother's day. flowers, breakfast in bed, lots of cuddles, a day to do whatever she pleases.

he gets the kids to to church for their mother, makes sure they're polite and well mannered, especially when they were younger. its possibly the only time he is strict with them.

still tucks the kids in every night. Aegon's 19.

#thats all I've got #those are his kids #he and aegon have that special eldest/father bond #would die for them #and alicent #his soulmate #he's always so concerned about them and whats best that it makes him a little dense #but he's a sweetheart through and through #criston cole #pro criston cole #alicent hightower #pro alicent hightower #pro team green #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #aemond targaryen #daeron targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #alicole #platonic alicole

[bucknastysbabe]

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Modern!AU, Pseudo-Incest, hightowgaryen reader, stepdad Criston, sexual tension, infidelity, family holiday shenanigans, Daeron erasure? Not in my house, age gap undisclosed but she’s above 18, pnv!sex, ye olde $qu1rt, the father who stepped up amirite, Aegon Is Tired, daddy kink, happy holidays!

A/N: totally didn’t beta but just went back over to fix some things

The addition of Criston to your household wasn’t necessarily a big change. He’d always been around, a family friend, dutiful guard, more of a father since your own was sickly and preferred his first child and her offspring. The man was there for most of the hardest moments of life, him and grandpa stepping in. He handled the boys, Otto a doting grandparent for you and Helaena. Alicent always just tried her best, neurotic as she may be.

They were married by the time you and two of your siblings had moved out. Aegon had been back home, fresh outta treatment and raw. Daeron was a junior in highschool. It seemed to be a marriage of convenience after your father died. Someone to support and guide the boys with fatherly love, keep things in array.

The wedding was quick and short, no hub-bub, no Rhaenyra or her family. A sharp snub but…what was new?

You hadn’t been home since he moved in. The ancestral home was monstrous, you wouldn’t have to see anyone if you so desired. But holidays were here and your finals were over. A long flight from your study abroad program in Yi-Ti’s capital would be rather horrid. While you centered on foreign affairs, Helaena was studying entomology and Aemond soon to be a forensic medical examiner.

There was always pressure to be the best— Aegon cracked wide open his freshman year. The rest of you had your own little chips and hairline fractures. Maybe not Daeron, the cheerful fellow. He was rapidly advancing to be on a professional football team at the mere age of 17.

You didn’t expect what it would be like at home for the Feast Day of the Father. Supposedly a cheery time, all the servants decorating the manor with garlands and shiny lights, a large ironwood in the foyer. Blue winter roses bloomed and bowls of smokeberry sat around. You couldn’t make it for the Harvest Festival as Yi-Ti didn’t celebrate that, luckily you were now on a school break. The memories of the past Feast Day were more unpleasant than anything.

Criston was to pick you up from the Airport outside of King’s Landing. You felt strange. He was a bit distant with you. Helaena too, but Aemond and Otto seemed to be the only ones she would open up with. Sometimes with you, mainly about her bugs.

You’d always held a childish affection for Criston. A shiver of embarrassment and goosebumps erupted on your arms at a memory. You were young, thirteen maybe? You’d gotten your period and the beginning of breasts. It was the Maiden’s day and you wore the prettiest white dress, hair and makeup done. Batting your eyes and blushing when Cole complimented, “A proper young lady, you look beautiful.”

You seethed with jealousy the rest of the evening, the Dornishman surrounded by maidens, holding young Daeron in his lap. Sharing a dance with Alicent and little Baela. Until a shadow loomed and his lips curled as he asked gently, “C’mon princess, you get a dance too.” You laid your head against his chest, pretending the dear family friend was your boyfriend.

Then it was over and that was that. Criston distanced himself further. Thinking about how you pressed yourself to his bigger body made you pinch the bridge of your nose. Now he was married to your mother. Hopefully Cole didn’t remember. Aegon sure had a field day, the prat.

You nodded off for the long flight, stopping over in Tyrosh before the arrival in King’s Landing. The familiar city line and bay gave a sense of nostalgia. The Red Keep no longer belonged to any royals so the Targaryen’s relocated to Summerhall and Dragonstone. Summerhall being Alicent’s home, while your half-sister lived on Dragonstone.

Jet lag was already setting in. Yi-Ti was many time zones ahead of Westeros. Grabbing your carry-on and other trunk of clothes and gifts you went to the usual terminal. As you hunched standing around others, shivering in the chilly air, a sleek SUV pulled up.

Just in time, some royal fanatics were beginning to notice a Princess in the midst. Criston ushered you into the car, quickly packing away the bags. Once climbing into the automobile he hummed, “Pack rocks in there? Good to see you princess, you look well.”

“Yi-Ti has wondrous gifts, I figured I would get some for the family. How’s Aegon?” The gold band around his left hand shone against the street lights. Criston’s mouth twitched, thinking over his words. He deadpanned, “Slow. He goes to meetings and such but is not having a good time at home. Alicent won’t let him back to school until he gets a year of sobriety. He’s working.”

You snorted, “Aegon, working? Wow.”

Criston rolled his eyes, offering a lopsided smirk. Your stomach fluttered a bit. He drummed on the steering wheel, questioning, “How is it out in Yin?” The fact he even knew the capital made you smile. You couldn’t help but gush, “Oh if I didn’t study the customs before I would’ve been laughed out. They’re a very complex society. I’m now fluent since living there. Very kind people, although a bit stingy.”

Criston let you babble about your foreign excursion, occasionally asking a question. He’d always been recognized as a good listener. Somewhere in your detailing of the history and the issues with Leng— sleep came back. Summerhall wasn’t a short distance.

The vague memory of being carried and shushed by pretty lips and a low timbre accompanied your strange dreams. You’d slumber deeply for the rest of the night.

Apparently morning too, jerking up at 2PM to speed shower off the airport grime and make yourself presentable for the family. Hustling down the stairs the smell of something cooking hit your senses— you didn’t realize how hungry you were.

Daeron was hovering in the kitchen while Criston cooked up some sort of stir fry, looking domestically lovely. Seven above, you needed to stop. Daeron did a double take and hugged you with a cheer, lanky arms holding suprising strength.

“Sister! I’m so glad you could make it, about damn time!” You hugged the baby of the family tightly, chuckling, “You try living across the world, jeez let me down! Daeron! I swear you grow a foot every time I see you.” Criston peered back to smile before returning to the task at hand.

You eyed your baby brother, chiding, “Looking ever the athlete. What are they pumping you with? HGH?”

He scoffed and flexed his legs, “No, simply protein shakes and plenty of exercise. Braavos FC is showing interest but mother wants me to go to school.”

“Do what you want Dare, not like everyone gets the chance to go professional,” you looked around, ”where is everyone by the way?”

Criston interrupted, “Aegon will roust eventually, your mother is working, Aemond in the library, and I think Hel is in the gardens with Otto. They’ll come around, I’m almost done- why don’t you two sit down I’ll fix some plates.”

The pair of you shrugged and did so, chattering about this and that. Aegon shuffled in, looking much healthier, but hair a mess and his clothes ill-fitting. He grumbled, pulling down a tight jumper, “I know I’m fat- piss off sis.”

“Well hello to you too big brother,” you laughed.

He huffed and hugged your seated form, a rare gesture from Aeg. He grabbed a soda and plopped down, yawning. Propping a chubby cheek on his hand, he complained about being out in the middle of nowhere and the irritable retail job he had.

Daeron began to chuckle. Aegon glared his way, mouthing something. You interjected, “What am I missing here?” Aemond’s stern voice filled the awkward silence, “Dear Aegon works at a lingerie store.”

“Women’s intimate apparel,” Aegon droned.

You guffawed, totally not surprised, the damn hound. Aeg muttered, “It’s more returns and angry old ladies asking about hosiery than a babe. Enough about me. Criston you done yet?”

Aemond, ever the prick, “Hope you made extra.”

Criston was in fact done now, placing the big bowl in the middle of the table, returning with some sauces and a side of Leng slaw. You blushed a bit and asked, “A street favorite in Yin, make this for me Criston?” All shades of purple eyes turned to the step-father.

His own olive cheeks darkened and he waved it off, “Just in case you missed the place.”

Lunch was eaten amicably besides Aegon and Daeron fighting over the last servings. To which Aemond snatched to bowl up for Otto and Helaena, informing Aegon he needs a diet. The eldest bristled, “I can’t help I’m always craving shit! I’m clean and sober, be happy about that!”

Things were escalating before Criston shut down the argument, dismissing everyone. You patted the dismal Aegon and softly uttered, “I’m proud of you Aeg.” He offered a brisk smile and stomped outside to light up a cigarette. You took the task of helping your step-father clean up.

It was a bit quiet, water running and dishes clanking. You almost bit your cheek bloody before blurting, “How has it been for you? A big adjustment, marrying into a bunch of loons.” He stared down at his hands scrubbing the plate, lips working around a response again.

“It’s alright. Quiet. Formal. Nothing new I suppose. I didn’t think I’d enjoy all of you back like I did. Brings some life around the place besides Alicent being a workaholic and Aegon moping. I’m a glorified house-husband.”

His dark eyes grew wide. Criston spluttered, “I- I don’t know why I said that. Father forgive me, that was rude.” His calloused hands scrubbed harder at the plate until you thought he might break it.

Grabbing a strong wrist, he jerked his pretty face to your own, panic poorly hidden. You stroked the softer skin on the inside of his wrist and murmured softly, “I know how mom gets. Your secret is safe with me.” You padded away, the man seeming stunned.

You’d go outside to catch some air, feeling a bit lightheaded and guilty getting in your step-father’s space like that. His little admittance was a surprise yet not. Criston was career military, before becoming the head of Royal Guard under Viserys. Rhaenyra dismissed him upon her assent and then he soon married mother.

You had expected less of a strain between the two, they had an obvious lack of chemistry, chaste kisses. Your mother picked up a lot of royal duties still, off working and traveling. Leaving poor Cole alone. Once again you needed to stop. Thoughts began to slip between the cracks.

Aegon was out with his sobriety sponsor for the night. The wine flowed while he was gone. You’d finally gotten hugs and warm welcomes from Hel, Grandpa, and Mom. It was just family, smiling and giddy off the taste testing mother ordered. Even young Daeron was giggly and pink cheeked.

Aemond indulged slightly— the most you got was a looser tongue. Everyone shared stories around the crackling fire, laughing. Your own head was pleasantly swimmy, nestled next to your older sister. She seemed to be in the present for now.

Alicent and Criston shared the love seat, his long arm around around her perfectly postured shoulders. You kept making eye contact with him, blushing and looking away. Why was he staring? You launched into a story about Aegon trying to drunkenly ride a mule at the Crownlands Fair.

That seemed to release a barrage of other Aegon tales, making your sides hurt with laughter. Even a couple of Aemond’s sharp witted barbs at the few full Targaryen gatherings were discussed. The middle brother smirked and snorted, rolling his good eye.

It went on until everyone was either sleepy or borderline too drunk to continue. Your heart felt full, escorting Daeron’s drunk self back to his room. He mumbled with a goofy grin, “I love when you all come home, so much happier.” Tucking him in and grabbing a water out of his mini fridge, you made the teen swallow.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno’ Aeg’s cranky, mom’s always gone,” he stopped and poorly whispered with wide eyes, “Mom and Criston don’t sleep in the same room.” Patting your brother on the head you gently scolded, “Don’t repeat that, take your meds and drink some water, night night Dare. Love you.”

“Love youuuuu, sorrryyyy.”

Quietly exiting his room you turned down the drafty hallway to meet the familiar dark pools of Criston’s eyes. He stared intensely, you peering back, an unknown force stalling you two. Eventually you padded to him, a little wobbly from the wine. He wasn’t quite sober either, faint Dornish accent lilting his voice toward the end of the night.

He licked his lips, still quiet. You peered upwards, the man towering over you this close. Your heart was beating rapidly, frantic feelings arising after Daeron’s admission. You whispered, “How long?”

He knew, blowing out a sigh.

“Eight months or so. I love your mother, alright dear?” His tone was wavering, weak, as if he was convincing himself. You stepped closer, enough to smell the sweet red on his carved lips. He inhaled sharply, hands balling at his sides.

“Why were you staring at me all night?”

“I could ask the same.”

He looked away, running a big hand through dark curls. Criston muttered, more to himself, “I can’t, not again.” Nodding in affirmation you stated, “You’re right, this is wrong. Good night Criston.” Pain bloomed in your chest turning away. Taking two strides a warm hand tugged your wrist, you biting back a squeak as the man maneuvered you into the wall.

He breathed, “We’re drunk. What is it with you Targaryens?” His warm forehead pressed against your own, hands secured around your waist. A whimper bubbled up from your throat, his warm body caging you in, impossibly toned thigh slotted between your own.

“Just kiss me, I’ve dreamt about this since I was thirteen.”

He groaned, seizing your waiting lips, gently kissing in measured movements. You arched into his hard frame, arms wrapping up around broad shoulders, fingers tickling at brown curls. Criston tilted his head, feeling his way in with sensual little laps. Opening for the elder you met his probing tongue, dancing slowly together as your lips smacked.

His huge hands came down to your ass, slipping under the skirt to hoist you further onto his hard thigh. You mewled again, Criston shushing with another kiss. He whispered into your ear, “Be quiet, hm? Bad enough as is.”

He returned to taking your mouth, quite enjoying the sloppy kisses. You shivered and he eagerly swallowed any noises, dragging your cunt across his thigh easily, aided by your bucking hips. The friction against your clit was sending you into a tizzy. Criston had to reluctantly place his hand over your mouth to muffle helpless whimpers.

He chuckled, “You sound so pretty, lovely, gods.” Instead he laid plush kisses down your sensitive neck and collarbones, humming in delight. You were sweating and drooling, climax quickly reaching an apex, wetness smearing all over Cole’s thigh.

Chest heaving and thighs twitching he ordered, “Now, come my lovely, come for your step-father.” Step-father? You gasped behind his palm, shivering and stiffening as your overstimulated pussy soaked through thin panties onto Criston’s thigh. He eased you down, bright teeth glinting in the low light.

You felt tears welling up, wiping at them aggressively. Nothing new, stepping on a bug made you cry. Certainly nothing to do with never having this again. No. The Dornishman seemed concerned, dark brows pinching.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you back,” he more or less ordered, hoisting you up bridal style. You sniffled, “Sorry, always do that after a good orgasm.” He scoffed, “Sure sweet girl. I’ll take care of you, no tears. Not like anyone pays attention, heads so far into their own asses.”

He gently placed you down, helping aid the still tipsy debacle of undressing and changing. A large shirt and panties would do. You climbed ungracefully into the bed, snuggling under the thick covers. Criston sat on the end of the bed, palm on your ankle.

“Are you leaving?”

He gave a sad smile, “I’m afraid so. I’m just down the hall.”

“Would you do this sober?”

He squeezed your leg, voice lowering, “It would’ve happened before you headed off I think. No one has paid me much attention in a while. You always seemed to idolize me, now I’m an old man fucking around with the girl he watched grow up.”

“I don’t care. When mom leaves again I want to fuck you.”

Criston rolled his eyes, “Now you’re drunk talking.”

“I mean it. I want you to fuck me. What they don’t know doesn’t hurt. Make me cum on your cock.”

Criston groaned, “Stop it or I’ll take you right now little princess. We’ll see.”

It wasn’t long before the elder man had you bent over his bed, strong hips snapping into your weeping pussy. One hand pushed your back into an arch, the other pinching your sensitive nub. You slobbered and bit into the pillow, rubbing your tits into the rough fabric of the bed.

He panted, “Gorgeous girl, sucking me in, you wanted this huh?”

The rest of the family was out for lunch. You feigned illness, Criston offering to watch. No one batted an eye. Wasn’t long before he picked you up and snarled his intentions.

He smacked your ass, you keening, “Yesss- fuck yes— don’t stop! M’gonna come!”

Then tanned man plastered himself to your tinier frame, biting gently on your shoulder, muttering dirty little secrets. He roughly grabbed your jaw to get at your lips, fingers still maddeningly swirling around your engorged bud. He rasped, desperation tinging his tone, “Me too, mmfuckk, my perfect princess, gods!”

He swallowed up your wailing cry, body covering your own, like the man would envelop you if he could. He jerked your hips a weird way, you choking on your spit as his cock jammed into that sensitive ridged patch. Whining his name, heat and a strange sensation lit up between your legs, gushing helplessly onto the bed and the man’s cock.

Criston sounded like he’d died, groaning raggedly, cumming into his condom with a few more sloppy pumps, thighs trembling too. You fell forward, your step-father rolling right beside, chest quickly rising and falling. He managed, “I made you squirt.”

You nodded jerkily, moving weak limbs to curl into his perfect body. “That you did, daddy,” came the breathless reply. He grinned like a boy, smacking your thigh playfully, dark eyes sparkling. Criston laughed, “You need to watch yourself or I’ll eat your pretty cunt until you learn to watch your mouth.”

Stretching lazily you sighed, “That sounds like a good idea to me. I guess it’s good I’ll be hobbling around, they won’t realize I’ve had the daylights fucked out of me.” Criston twisted to give you a peck on the cheek, getting up to dispose of the condom. He called back, “Perfect, I love nursemaid duty.”

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #criston cole x reader #modern au

[vhagarlovebot]

NO ONE HAS TO KNOW. — STEPDAD!AEMOND.

summary: getting stuck in the middle of a storm and having to share a bed with your stepdad was definitely not in your plans.

content warnings: 4k words. 18+, fem!reader, dark content, age gap (aemond is 38 and reader is in her early 20s), stepcest, dubcon, somnophilia, thigh riding, daddy kink, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, praise kink, one bed trope.

note: you can block the tag “★. dark themes!” if you don’t like this kind of content. for those who were asking about this fic, here it is. finally. hope you like it!

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

YOU CHANGE THE RADIO STATION making aemond groan in frustration. 

“your mother wants us there.” he sighs, turning down the volume and giving a quick glance in your direction.

“i had plans.” you try to clean the window with the back of your hand to look outside, but the heavy snow doesn’t let you see anything. “are you sure we should be driving with this weather?”

your mother loves when both of you go to her conferences, she always says you’re her lucky charm, but you really didn’t want to leave the city this weekend. you’re sure your mother would’ve understood but aemond dragged you out of the house before you had time to message her. 

“we’ll have fun.” he simply answers.

“sitting in a room full of people for five hours?” you look at him, raising your eyebrows. aemond glances at you once again and shrugs. 

“you’re right. but we’re already two hours in, we can’t come back now. not with this weather.” he shrugs and you sigh, defeated. 

aemond turns on the ac, humming along to the song currently playing on the radio. “what plans did you have?” he asks after a while. 

“i was planning on… studying?” 

“which translates into going to a party.” he chuckles, but then his whole demeanor changes. “why don’t you trust me?” his question takes you by surprise and aemond is quick to elaborate. “i know that me marrying alys must have been weird for you.”

you giggle, turning your whole body in his direction. “what makes you say that? it is, perhaps, the fact that you’re way younger than my mother?” you don’t mean to sound so defensive but you’ve never approved of your mother’s choices of partners. not because you don’t like them but because most of them have been barely old enough to drink. it was like having younger siblings. you were thankful when she started dating older men—older than you, at least.

“that’s exactly why i want us to be friends.” his smile tells you he’s being honest and, for a second, he looks younger than his age. 

“aemond, that is exactly why we can’t be friends.” you run your hand over your face, exhausted. having this conversation with him wasn’t in the list of things you needed to do. “having you as my stepdad it’s weird enough, just… don’t make it weirder.”

neither of you says anything after that and a part of you feels bad for talking to him like that, but the other one knows you can’t lie to yourself.

hugging yourself, you try to sleep until the trip is over. 

you have the same dream you’ve been having since that fateful night a month ago when you decided to go to the kitchen for some milk, and ended up listening to your mother and aemond having sex.

it wasn't your fault, really, you were just passing by when you heard it. you froze, struggling between keep walking or get back to your room when you saw them through a crack in the door. he was behind her, one of his hands on her hip while the other one tightly grabbed her hair, hips smacking against hers filling the room with obscene sounds. 

you stood there until her moans became louder, his movements became sloppy and you felt your slick dripping down your thighs. 

that night you touched yourself at the thought of your stepdad fucking you for the first time. 

it was hard facing them the next morning. as soon as you saw your mother in the kitchen you felt guilty, dirty. what kind of daughter does what you did? then aemond appeared out of nowhere, startling you by grabbing your hips. you immediately pulled away, his touch making you feel even dirtier. 

that night you humped your pillow thinking about him. you were going to hell anyway. 

“hey,” you hear aemond’s voice and his hand caressing your arm trying to wake you. “we can’t keep driving, the roads are closed.” 

“you have to be kidding.” you groan, rubbing your eyes. there’s a big sing in front of you telling you exactly where you are: a motel. 

“we’ll have to spend the night here.” he looks apologetic and you soften your expression, he is not to blame. “i got us the last room available.”

“great.” you mumble, getting out of the car. “just great.” 

going up the stairs to the room, your heart starts beating faster than normal, only then realizing you’ll have to spend the entire night in the same room. you and aemond. just the two of you. 

you’re one second away from telling him you want to stay in the car when he opens the door revealing something you definitely weren’t expecting. 

your heart drops to the floor when you see one tiny bed—just enough to fit two people—in the middle of the room.

“i’m going to take a quick shower.” aemond says, leaving his backpack at the foot of the bed. 

you change to the only pajama you brought—a silk and very soft sleepwear dress—because you thought you were going to be spending the night in a hotel by yourself. definitely not in the middle of nowhere in a tiny bed with aemond targaryen. 

you immediately climb on the bed, covering your body with the sheets, when you hear him getting out of the bathroom. you peek a little, and see him with just a towel around his hips, drops of water dripping down his toned chest.

you hide under the sheets when he loses the towel, all the blood of your body going to your face and between your legs. 

aemond hops into bed with you, careful not to touch your body with his but failing; you still can feel his silk skin brushing against yours when he gets comfortable at a considerable distance. 

you try to think about a bunch of different things. the cold war. the big pimple your friend had last week. how cold it is. your mother with a disappointed look on her face… 

“do you have to breathe so loud?” aemond complains, turning around until he’s facing your back. you can feel his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. 

“oh if it bothers you i can just simply stop breathing, is that okay with you?” looking above your shoulder you see how his brows knit into a question as his confusion deepens. 

“what’s wrong with you?” he sounds sad and hurt by your words. and for the second time in the day, you feel really bad. 

“i’m sorry,” you say, closing your eyes. “this is not how i pictured my night and i’m cold. i get bitchy when things don’t go as i want them.” 

aemond moves closer to you and your heart does a backflip inside your chest. he puts one of his big arms around your waist and without any effort moves you closer to him. 

“wh—what are you doing?” you stammer. even swallowing is hard. 

“you said you’re cold,” you don’t see him but you can hear his smirk. “and we don’t want you to catch a cold, do we? besides, i’m trying not to fall from this stupid tiny bed.” 

you don’t say anything. instead, you try to regulate your breathing, once again thinking about the most disgusting things to keep you from thinking about the closeness between aemond and you, and how inappropriate it is. 

after a while of thinking about the gruesome and injustice of the both world wars, you finally give up. 

“i’m sorry.” you say softly. but aemond doesn’t say anything. you don’t know if he’s sleeping or not but if you don’t say it now, you would not say it again. “i didn’t mean to speak to you like that.”

“mmh.” 

“i, uhm, would like that.” 

“like what?” he asks, confused. 

“to be friends.” you shrug, very, very aware of the closeness. “we shouldn’t hate each other.” 

“i don’t hate you. never did.” aemond moves a little bit closer, his chest now in direct contact with your back. “we should get along… for the sake of your mother.” 

you open your eyes, big with surprise and guilt. your mother who’s probably wondering where you are, if you’re safe, meanwhile you’re in bed with her husband. 

“this isn’t right.”

“yeah, this bed is too small.” 

however, neither of you tries to do something. in fact, you move closer. aemond slips his leg between your own, and you part them to give him access while your heart beats so fast you think you’re seconds away from throwing up. 

you try to sleep but aemond’s closeness and arm wrapped tightly around your waist only helps to feed your fantasies. he, however, falls asleep in just a couple of minutes, and you try to ignore his slow, regular breathing on your neck and how that makes you feel, but you are weak. and a terrible person. because you can’t stop picturing aemond turning you around and taking you right there on the bed, calling you a good girl for taking him so well. 

you know the thoughts you have about him are not normal but aemond hasn’t left your mind since the moment one of your best friends introduced him to you. you were mesmerized by his sharp jawline and smart ass, and to say that the long scar across his left eye didn’t make an impression on you is to tell a lie, because it only added to the growing attraction. 

you had time to get to know each other a little bit, in the few occasions you bumped into each other at one of the many parties your best friend was hosting and who, you learned thanks to aemond, was dating jace—his nephew, before your mother came into the picture, and you were forgotten. 

however, that doesn’t mean that the attraction you felt for aemond vanished, you simply ignored the weird feeling when you saw them kissing after he dropped her home one night. 

you don’t know how they met, but you know aemond didn’t know you were her daughter until he visited your home for the very first time and saw you walking down the stairs. he tried to talk to you about it but you never gave him the chance, and eventually he stopped trying. 

maybe it would’ve been easier if you had slept with him, that way he would be out of your mind by now. instead, you keep touching yourself at the thought of him and his grunts as he was fucking your mother, you keep replaying the way his hips were moving and smacking against her ass, you keep picturing yourself giving him that pleasure. 

you try closing your legs but his leg between your own makes you wince at feeling the friction it creates. you slowly move your hips, trying to feel it again, and when your clit makes contact with his thigh you have to bite your tongue to hold your moan. 

you close your eyes, guilt overtaking you. but only for a moment. 

“aemond?” you whisper, looking over your shoulder to make sure he’s sleeping, and when he doesn't answer, you take a deep breath, cursing yourself for what you’re about to do. 

you slide your hand down, spreading your folds and feeling how wet you already are. you bite your lips to muffle the moan threatening to spill from your mouth as you play with your cunt, barely sliding two fingers into your entrance. your other hand follows the same path, circling your clit with your middle finger, images of aemond’s face buried between your legs making you squeeze your eyes shut. 

you try not to move too much but it becomes really hard with every passing minute, and as your desperation grows, so do your gasps and whimpers. 

adrenaline courses through your body, something you’ve felt before—at night when you laid in bed, legs spread wide open touching yourself at the thought of him. but with aemond in the same bed, his warmth emanating from his body to yours, his arm around your waist holding you tightly against his chest… that is what pushes you closer to the edge, what makes you start moving your hips against his thigh seeking for something to give you more pleasure than just your fingers. it’s slow at first, afraid it will wake him up, but aemond seems to be a heavy sleeper because there’s no hair out of place, not even the slightest change in his breathing. 

you roll your hips with more confidence, hands squeezing and pinching your breasts. but it is still not enough; you need him. carefully, you reach down and place a hand over his, moving it to rest on top of your breast. his hand is bigger than your own, and you wonder how would it be to feel his long, slender fingers in your dripping pussy or wrapped around your throat. 

you drag your clit along his thigh, nearing your orgasm with every roll of your hips. you don’t notice you’re moaning aloud, until you feel aemond’s hand pinching your hard nipple, hot breath against your neck. 

you shriek, immediately stopping. embarrassment and humiliation replacing the pleasure you were feeling just moments ago. you don’t move, you don’t talk, you’re not sure if you’re even breathing, too ashamed of yourself. 

“so fucking greedy,” aemond chuckles, pinching your nipple again. “using me to get yourself off while i’m sleeping.” he grinds his hips against your ass, thrusting into you. 

“‘m sorry,” you mumble, a shiver rolling down your neck. your whole body is on fire, a combination of shame and tingling pleasure.

“then do it,” his voice is low, and you can hear the smirk he’s wearing on his lips. aemond grabs your earlobe between his teeth, making you arch your back, a soft gasp spilling from your mouth. “use me just like you were doing before. want to hear those pretty sounds again.” 

you swallow the lump in your throat, still not moving. you can’t. the voice inside your head keeps reminding you how wrong this is, how you shouldn’t have started something you shouldn’t be even thinking about. but your body speaks a different language, and aemond sees right through you. 

“tsk,” aemond runs his tongue down your neck, and a new wave of goosebumps spreads all over your body. “suddenly you’re shy? or is that you like it more when i’m sleeping? hm?”

aemond presses his bulge into the plush of your ass, making you feel just how affected he is. you try so hard to listen to the voice inside your head but you are weak, as you’ve clearly demonstrated, and all it takes to shut that voice off is aemond’s hand sliding down, fingers expertly rubbing over your clit. 

“it seems i’ll have to do all the work.” he nips at the soft skin of your thigh as his other hand makes its way to your neck, wrapping around your throat and squeezing ever so slightly.

“stop, please.” you blink repeatedly, trying to clear the haze from your mind. 

“your mouth says one thing,” aemond spreads your folds, pressing one finger to your soaked cunt, making you squirm against him. “your body says another.” 

your body betrays you while you’re still fighting against what you want and what is right. 

“stop thinking about it.” 

you really want to pull away, but your body screams for him. and you do it.

you start moving your hips, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit as your pussy clenches around nothing. your hands go to your breasts, taking your nipples and pinching, moaning when you feel the wet spot on aemond’s clothed thigh. 

“use me, fuck yourself on my thigh.” he moves his leg up adding pressure to your needing hole. “just like that… good girl.” you throw your head back, giving him access to your neck. he bites and kiss and licks, leaving marks behind. “can’t stop thinking about how perfect this pussy would feel wrapped around my cock.”

aemond pushes one finger inside you slowly and you inhale sharply, one of his fingers feel like two of your own, yet it’s still not enough to alleviate the ache you feel deep within you; so you desperately search for his wrist, digging your nails into his skin, silently asking him to go deeper, faster. 

“what’s that?” he teases you, leaning in just a little closer to whisper directly against your cheek. “use your words, baby.”

“want more, p-please.” you whimper when he inserts a second finger, immediately curling them upward. aemond brushes that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars behind your eyes. but before you could let go, he pulls his fingers out, rolling you onto your back. 

“want me to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, is that it?” aemond asks you, climbing on top of you and spreading your legs apart. when you don’t answer, he presses his clothed cock against your soaked cunt. “don’t you know it is rude not to answer when someone speaks to you?”

“so-sorry,” you don’t even try to hold back the gasp escaping your lips. 

aemond grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “answer when i speak to you.”

“yes,” you exhale shakily, hips bucking furiously against him. “i want that… yes.”

“nah,” he gazes at you for a moment, then shakes his head. “be a good girl and use your manners.”

“want you to fuck me… please, daddy.” 

aemond growls, pressing his lips against yours. it’s soft at first, both of you still insecure, waiting for the other to change their mind at any second; kissing feels a little too intimate. but when he thrusts into you, dragging the tip of his cock just right over your clit, making you wrap your legs around his waist, every coherent thought goes out the window. 

he breaks the kiss, pulling away enough to get rid of his sweatpants. “you have no idea how much i’ve been thinking about this.”

your heart beats faster at hearing his words. knowing that you’re not the only one with those sinful thoughts makes you feel less anxious, it isn’t better for either of you but you’re already deep into some twisted shit, there is no turning back, so, at least, you can allow yourself to fantasize a little. 

“you knew what you were doing when you decided not to use panties to bed, uh?” aemond looks into your glassy eyes, aligning himself with your entrance, gathering some of your slick before pushing inside, slowly and carefully, giving you time to adjust to him. “went to bed thinking about this.” he pants, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from thrusting into you. 

it hurts, he’s stretching you to the point where you have to hold onto him, nails digging into his back while your mouth hangs open, moans falling from your lips. 

“so big,” you gasp, following his gaze down where your bodies meet. 

“you can take it, baby” he says, hooking your left leg up higher which allows him to slide in some more. “look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well.” 

you feel so filled already, and aemond is barely halfway in. 

aemond leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, warm and soft. his lips slide down until he’s kissing you again, tongue violating your mouth with such desperation and rudeness that your head is spinning trying to focus on two things at once. 

he thrust into you fully, making you cry out. you feel him so deep inside of you, you are sure you can see the outline of his cock in your stomach. 

you squirm beneath him, whimpering and moaning with his tortuous pace, the cold from the silver chain around his neck touching your cheek every time he slides his cock in, a welcome feeling against your hot face.

you can’t think about anything, you don’t remember why you were so anxious about or why you shouldn’t be doing this. there’s no thought in your mind besides how good he’s making you feel or how obscene the words he’s whispering in your ear are.

“tell me,” he grunts, pounding into you so hard you have to bite your lips to stop yourself from screaming. “since when have you been wanting me to fuck you?”

your eyes flutter shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “since-fuck! since the first time—” aemond pulls out, until only half of him is still inside of you, and then sinks back in, making you whimper. “we met.” 

aemond lets out a loud groan, violently slamming his hips, fucking you harder and faster. he holds onto your hip with one hand, balls slapping against your cunt, as his other hand moves down to rub over your clit. 

“you look so pretty like this.” aemond coos, leaning in to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “taking my cock like the good girl you are.”

“daddy,” you don’t even have time to warn him before you’re cumming all over his cock, walls clenching around him and legs shaking so much they fall open by his side.

you are so warm and tight around him, that his dick twitches inside of you as he approaches his own climax. he fucks you through your orgasm until his movements are sloppier and he begins to grunt aloud, face twisted in pleasure. 

then, aemond pulls out, letting out a low moan as he comes all over your stomach, hot and white stripes painting your body. 

he collapses next to you, pulling you in closer. you just stare at each other for a while, not a sound coming out of your mouths, just heavy breathing and panting. 

“you okay, baby?” 

the pet name sends shivers all over your body. “i’m alright.” you shrug, giggling when he looks at you with a frown on his face. “i’m more than okay.” 

“good. because you need a shower.” he says, getting off the bed and taking you in his arms, making you yelp in surprise. 

aemond steals a kiss from you as he walks toward the bathroom, both of you still so high and lost in the moment to worry about what this means. 

when you wake up the next morning, the bed is cold and empty, and you can no longer feel aemond’s arm around your waist. but, at the same time, you still feel him everywhere. 

you smile, fingers pulling your bottom lip down, images of what you did the night before flashing through your mind, but as quickly as they came, the anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach also comes back, erasing the smile on your face. 

you’re fighting hard not to cry when the door opens, revealing aemond carrying two cups of coffee in hands. worry crosses his face when he sees your expression.

“what’s wrong?” he takes two big steps, leaving the cups aside, and sits beside you. aemond places a warm, comforting hand over yours. but you can’t look him in the eyes. “hey,” with his free hand, he cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “we have a long way back home, if you want to talk… we can do that.”

you nod, tears in your eyes as you finally look at him. he has a soft expression, reassuring you that everything it’s okay, even if he doesn’t believe that himself.

tags: @namelesslosers. @teamaemond. @abecerra611. @fleurriee. @vermithorn. @aemonds-fire.

© vhagarlovebot, 2023. — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

#📮 ⌇ my works ​˖⋆࿐ #★. dark themes! #aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen smut #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd imagine

[birdiewriteslit]

“summer of difference”

chapter two: new romantics

jacaerys velaryon, aemond targaryen, aegon targaryen x fem!stark!reader

summary: you remember a certain incident from last year, and you meet a certain group of siblings.

warnings: 18+, nsfw content, smut, kind of p in v?, making out, aegon😒, loss of virginity

BRUH TUMBLR DELETED A BUNCH OF THE SHIT I WROTE AND I HAD TO WRITE IT ALL AGAIN so that’s why this is late sorry y’all but trust you will be fed this chapter

LAST SUMMER, THE GARAGE

“Are you sure about this, Jace?” you asked timidly, which is ironic, because minutes before you were confidently climbing into the backseat of Daemon’s convertible.

“Positive.” Jace was on top of you, breathing heavily as he tore away from the newly bruised spot on your neck. “Are you?” he asked, hovering over you.

“Yeah, I am,” you confirmed, grabbing his shirt to pull him back onto your lips.

He kissed you fervently, hooking your legs around his waist as he gripped your hips. “Take it off,” he whispered against your lips, tugging on the fabric of your shirt.

“I’m not wearing a bra,” you said.

He shrugged. “Less work for me then.” Your heartbeat quickened, but you complied, revealing your breasts to him. He stared for a moment before hastily taking his shirt off, and going back to attacking your neck with his mouth.

You’d never seen him like this before. You’d been toying with him all summer, sure, but you weren’t expecting him to take your virginity in his stepdad’s convertible.

You covered your mouth to stifle the moan that escaped you. Jace took one hand off of your waist to take yours away from your mouth. “I want to hear you,” he said, connecting his lips to yours again, preventing you from protesting.

If his whole family and yours weren’t just beyond the door to the garage, the last thing you’d be worried about was your vocal ability.

But the thought of getting caught was sort of thrilling. Anyone could walk through the door and see you like this, your hands on Jace’s face, his tugging on the belt loops of your jean shorts, both of you half naked. They would know you belonged to him.

Your hips involuntarily bucked up to his, and he groaned into your mouth as he started grinding on you. “Jace…”

“I know, baby, I know,” he rasped. pausing to slide his shorts and briefs down, you taking the time to unzip your shorts and do the same.

He aligned himself with your entrance, bringing one hand up to cup your face, his forehead on yours. His eyes asked if you wanted it, and you nodded. “I need you, Jace,” you said softly.

He kissed you quickly and slowly inserted himself inside you. You moaned loudly at the exact same time the door to the garage opened.

Your head whipped around to see possibly your worst nightmare. It wasn’t Cregan, it wasn’t Luke, it wasn’t even Sara. It was Daemon, standing in the doorway with his keys in hand.

His lips were pursed tightly together and sunglasses covered his eyes, which made this experience all the more terrifying because you couldn’t see his eyes. The excitement of others finding you quickly vanished as you realized that was the worst thing that could’ve happened.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” he said after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Jace said nothing as he hurried to cover up your chest with his shirt that had previously been discarded to the floor of the car. He pulled his bottoms back up, and you did the same, pushing his body away from yours.

“Daemon, I-“ Jace started.

Daemon grimaced and held up one hand. “Don’t, just don’t. In my own house. You do this in my own house? In my car? My one sacred item? And you choose to do this the moment I decide to go on a peaceful, relaxing drive?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into his shirt.

Rhaenyra could be seen behind him, peeking over his shoulder to see what the commotion was about, and gasping when she saw your guilty faces and lack of clothing.

“Y/n, put that damn shirt on. Both of you, inside now,” Daemon demanded. “Your mother will deal with you, boy,” he said, pointing at Jace.

You shamefully put Jace’s shirt on, and exited the car. Jace followed you past his angry stepfather and into the house, still half naked and feeling very embarrassed.

As if it could get any worse, there was Baela, Luke, and Sara sitting on the barstools, all holding in their laughs. Luke lost his mind laughing when he saw Daemon through the door attacking the car’s backseat in Clorox wipes. Sara and Baela had the decency to keep it in.

“On the couch, both of you,” Rhaenyra said, her face perfectly still.

When you sat down, you studied Jace’s face. He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were wide as he stared at the floor. This was the worst.

You looked behind you to see Baela silently laughing, Luke slapping the countertop, and Sara violently tapping away at her phone.

Rhaenyra entered the room about five minutes later with your parents behind her. Wonderful.

Your dad was busy trying to look menacing to Jace while your mother muttered several prayers under her breath.

“Would you like to explain what you were doing in Daemon’s car?” Rhaenyra asked calmly, her arms crossed over her chest.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, glancing around at your audience. “Well, we were in the garage, and then, Jace, I mean, I had an idea,” you started, attempting to save him. “And now I see that it was maybe not a good idea.”

“Were you at least being safe? Using protection?” Rhaenyra asked exasperatedly.

“Not exactly,” you admitted.

“She’s on the pill, she’s fine,” you dad said. Holy hell, this was fucking mortifying.

“She’s not fine! You know better than anyone that it doesn’t work,” your mother exclaimed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you interjected, ultimately hoping to change the subject.

“Don’t worry about it. What you should be worried about is teenage pregnancy!” she shouted.

“Gilliane, it’s really fine, okay? I didn’t,” Jace hesitated. “Cum.” He winced as he said the word.

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to speak, but someone beat her to it. “You fucked my sister, Jace? Sara better be lying because I will seriously hurt you,” Cregan yelled from over the railing.

“Violence is as much a sin as premarital sex!” you mom warned. “And, please, Cregan, watch your mouth.”

“So it’s true?” he said, sounding betrayed.

Jace stared at him, silent. Cregan retreated back into his room muttering, “Dude, bro code.”

This was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life. You did your best to ignore the scent of Jace that came off of his shirt as his mother firmly educated you on sex and protection.

His face was beet red as you got lectured, and yours was burning so bad it might as well have been on fire. When you looked over your shoulder once more to see Baela whispering to Rhaena, who had just entered the kitchen, you knew you were subject to a lifetime of teasing, and you dropped your head into your hands.

THIS SUMMER, THE KITCHEN

You thought back to the night before as you waited for your bagel to toast. You and Jace on the raft, peacefully ignorant to the events from your last week at the house last summer.

You were out there for a long time. You weren’t sure how long, but time passed easily when you were with him. After a while, you two swam back to the house in a comfortable silence.

He walked you to your bedroom, and there was a moment, just one moment, where you thought he would kiss you.

You stood at the door, and he was in front of you, his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath. It could’ve been a trick of the darkness, but you could’ve sworn his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again.

But he didn’t kiss you. He tore his gaze away from yours and bid you goodnight, leaving what could’ve been up to your imagination, which was very active.

As you laid awake in bed that night, you thought in depth about how his curls would feel in your fingers, what it would be like to trace the lines of his tanned and toned chest, his full lips on yours the whole time.

The toaster oven dinged, and brought you out of your daydream. You spread cream cheese over your bagel, and sat across from Rhaenyra at the breakfast table.

“Any plans for today?” she inquired.

You shrugged. “Not really. I was just gonna get some boat time in.”

“Would you mind taking Joffrey to the town beach today? He likes you the most,” she said.

To be frank, you did mind, but it was really the least you could do after contaminating Daemon’s car the last time she saw you. And who could say no to Rhaenyra?

“Sure,” you smiled. “I don’t mind at all.”

-

You laid out on your towel, keeping an eye on Joffrey playing in the sand by the water, and soaking up the sun.

It seemed like a perfect day. There were no clouds in the sky, and there was a nice breeze that made the heat bearable.

You were feeling quite relaxed until you noticed the lifeguard hop down from his chair and walk over to you. He stopped at the end of your towel, and you lowered your sunglasses in annoyance.

“Can I help you?”

He stood tall over you, his platinum hair was styled in a way that gave you the impression that he played hockey in the winter. His bright red swim trunks said “GUARD” on the front, and a whistle of the same color hung around his neck.

“Yeah, on account of my lifeguarding license/certification thingie, I have the right to stop any dangerous activity. You pose a fire risk because you’re so damn hot,” he said, looking fairly pleased with himself.

You gave him a blank look. “Has that line ever worked on anyone?”

“You tell me. You’re the only one I’ve used it on.” He grinned.

“Then I would say no,” you said, laying back down on your towel and pushing your sunglasses back up your nose.

You closed your eyes, figuring he would just go away, but then he spoke again. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied, not bothering to look at him.

“I’m Aegon,” he said.

“She didn’t ask,” said a new voice. You opened your eyes momentarily to see a girl standing between you and Aegon. She was wearing a yellow bikini and had wavy hair the same color as his. “Sorry about my brother,” she said, turning to you.

You shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

The girl told Aegon to go do his job, to which he sullenly walked back to his station at the chair. “I’m Helaena, by the way. Do you live here or are you visiting? I’ve never seen you before.”

“I spend the summer here with my brother’s friend’s family. I’m here babysitting that one today,” you explained, pointing to Joffrey splashing around in the lake.

She nodded, hesitating before speaking. “Do you want to come to the bonfire tonight to make up for Aegon being weird? It’s here at nine.”

Helaena was surprisingly forward despite having just met her, but you did need a distraction from Jace, who occupied your thoughts 24/7. Besides, you didn’t know anybody in King’s Landing except for his family. Surely there was no harm in making new friends.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I’ll see you tonight.”

-

How do you sneak out of a house that isn’t your own? This was the question you were asking yourself as you brainstormed ways to leave unnoticed. It was currently 8:45, and, to your luck, everyone was in for the night.

Sara was passed out on her cot, thankfully. That gave you the opportunity to change out of pajamas with no questions asked. The little kids were asleep by now. Luke, Jace, and Cregan were in their separate rooms. Your parents were definitely sleeping at this point, along with Rhaenyra. There was only one reason why you couldn’t exit through the front door.

Daemon might as well have been your enemy at this point. Every night he sat in the living room on his special chair reading some book about war, minding his business. Yet, somehow, this presented itself as a personal attack against you.

So, there you were, climbing out the bedroom window, trying your best to make no noise. Now you were on the roof, slowly making your way to the support post by the front door. You carefully slid down it, cursing quietly when you felt a splinter enter your leg.

The beach was a mile walk from the house, and when you got there you spotted Helaena immediately in a camping chair by the fire.

She wore an outfit similar to yours, a pretty summer dress and Birkenstocks. You called her name and watched her eyes light up when she saw you.

She paused her conversation with the boy in the chair next to hers, and stood up to meet you on the sand, linking her arm through yours and bringing you over to her seat.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said. “Let me get you a chair.”

You thanked her as she left, and brought your gaze to the boy. He smiled politely at you. His hair was cut short and it was as blonde as Helaena’s. When he turned to the side, you saw how milky his left eye was, how a scar ran from his eyebrow to his cheek.

Your breath hitched. He was stunning. He was so beautiful that you forgot about Jace for a minute.

Helaena came back with your chair, interrupting your wistful staring contest, and placed it in between the two others before excusing herself to meet a friend.

Sitting down next to him, you made intense eye contact with the boy again.

His sharp features made him look hard to approach, but incredibly attractive at the same time.

He broke the silence first. “I’m Aemond. Hel told me who you are,” he introduced himself. “Do you want a drink?”

You nodded. He leaned over the arm of his chair to grab two beers from the mini cooler next to him. He opened them both, handed one to you, and took a sip out of his own. “I hear you’ve met my brother,” he said, motioning to Aegon, who was currently losing a wrestling match a few feet away.

“I have. He’s a character,” you admitted.

“You don’t know the half of it. Helaena also told me you’re from Winterfell,” he said.

“That’s right,” you confirmed.

He leaned forward, his hands holding the beer between his knees. “Are all the girls in Winterfell as pretty as you?” he asked confidently.

You managed to stop yourself from swallowing beer down the wrong pipe, and pretended like you were as confident as he was, when in reality you were freaking out on the inside.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should come north and find out,” you flirted.

He smirked at you. His good eye was glowing a dark blue in the light from the fire. You wanted to ask him what happened to the other one. You needed to know more about him. His handsomeness captivated you but told you nothing.

“I’d like that,” Aemond said. “Why don’t you show me your place here first?”

It was very tempting to say yes, but the possibility of repeating last year’s incident was very unappealing. “That’s not a good idea. I sort of snuck out to be here.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re the rebellious type?”

“Does that surprise you?”

Now he was grinning. “Not at all. I actually think I’m more attracted to you now.”

You laughed. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, and I think I’m gonna prove it to you,” he said.

Your heart started beat faster as his face neared yours. “I think you should.”

He said nothing before kissing you. The kiss was hot and fierce, but his lips were soft. Your drinks were forgotten in the cup holders of the chairs. His hand was on the back of your neck, making you kiss him harder.

Your hands found the sides of his face as he glided his tongue across your lips, slipping it into your mouth. The kiss became sloppy, your tongue dancing with his as you made out.

This was moving faster, but you liked it. So far, you were liking this super hot mysterious stranger.

He pulled away once, his hot breath on your face as he exhaled slowly. “Let’s go to my car,” he said lowly.

You nodded breathlessly. He took your hand and led you into the parking lot where his Bronco was. He helped you into the backseat and climbed on top of you, closing the door swiftly behind him.

What was with you and hookups in nice cars?

Aemond resumed your make out session, his lips searing hot. His nimble fingers wandered beneath your dress. You arched your back so he could reach up and unhook your bra, which he did in record time. It was obvious that he had done it before. It made you jealous of the other girls he had fucked like this in his car, but it also turned you on knowing that he was more experienced than you.

You moaned into his mouth as he played with your breast, running his thumb over your hardened nipple. You felt to corner of his mouth quirk up, and you knew he was proud of how horny he made you.

His mouth moved onto your neck, sucking on and placing open mouthed kisses to the skin. You moaned again at the feeling.

Your hand went up into his platinum hair, and for a split second you thought about the hair your fingers were tangled in a year before. Dismissing the thought, you brought your hand down to his shorts, blindly fiddling with the hem.

He pulled his lips from your neck, panting. You instantly missed the feeling of them, the warmth they offered you.

He retracted his hand from under your dress, and you almost sighed in disappointment, hating the loss of contact.

The dynamic shifted painfully. Something flashed in his eyes that made you realize you wouldn’t be getting laid tonight.

“Sorry,” he said, eyes flitting away from yours. “I got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” you insisted, clinging onto hope.

“I’ll drive you home,” he said. He climbed out of the backseat and got into the driver’s seat. He didn’t even give you a chance to switch to riding shotgun, so you sat in the backseat fixing your bra feeling dejected and a little embarrassed.

You weren’t sure why he stopped, he seemed pretty conflicted about something when he pulled away from you. You tried to ignore it, but you still felt attracted to him despite the situation. You focused on watching the lake pass by the windows instead of thinking about it.

“It’s up on the left,” you said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Just drop me off here.”

He pulled over, letting you get out. He didn’t say goodbye. Whatever, asshole. Don’t fuck me and don’t say good night.

You shamefully walked up the driveway. When you reached the house, you realized that the post you slid down was a one way trip. “Shit,” you muttered, defeatedly taking out your phone.

—

You: are you still awake

J: Yeah why

You: i need you to open the front door

J: ?? Tf are you doing outside

You: i’ll tell you if you let me in

—

Jace read your text and moments later you saw him on the other side of the glass door, unlocking it to let you in. You stepped inside, and he shut the door quietly behind you. He stood in front of it, waiting for an explanation.

“So I snuck out,” you said.

“I can see that.” He laughed, eyeing your smudged lipstick and messy hair, before changing his demeanor suddenly. “You smell like a campfire,” he said seriously.

“Yeah, I know. I was at a bonfire,” you explained.

“Why?” he asked, sounding suspicious.

You shrugged. “I was invited. But you know what was weird, the girl who invited me has the same hair color as your mom. Her brothers did too. Is that a King’s Landing thing or something? Nobody looks like that in Winterfell,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

If anything, it was dampened. Jace narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me you were with them.”

You furrowed your brows. “You know them or something?”

“Yeah, I do. I know you should stay away from them,” he said sternly.

“Why?”

“Just trust me. Promise me this is the only time you’ll hang out with them,” he pleaded.

He was acting really weird about this, and you didn’t like that he wouldn’t explain himself. “Fine,” you said.

“Good.” He went upstairs, not waiting for you to follow him.

Aemond’s sudden rejection embarrassed you, but there was something about him that made you want to know more.

Helaena was sweet and didn’t seem like somebody who was worth the warning Jace gave you.

And Aegon was… well, he was Aegon.

I’ll see for myself what they’re like, you thought.

——

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