#targ reader

[zephyrrr101]

Not like her

Pairing: Daemon x niece reader

Warning: Targcest/incest, DUBCON?, size kink and breeding kink light, mention of somnophilia, slight manipulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, first intercourse, sweet Daemon, Daemon being a soft uncle hubby.(Because I simp) All ASOIAF warnings. MINOR DNI (but do with hungry bitches care?) also not proof read. High Valyrian translation might or not be wrong.

You looked around the Throne Room which had now was filled with hoards of people, All the nobles have made there way to King’s Landing to attend your sider sister, Rhaenyra’s wedding to your cousin Ser Laenor Velaryon. It was a match made out of convenience, you had known that.

Father had not told you much, nor had your maids and lady companions, all having been sworn to silence by your father. But it didn’t take much for news to not get to your ears. Red Keep was never able to keep gossips.

Apparently, Rhaenyra had been seen beyond the walls of Rad Keep during hour of wolf with someone in unseemly situations. There were no proofs that anyone had, but it had been enough for your father to set this betrothal to push the rumours away.

They weren’t rumours.

It was your sister’s sworn shield who had been the man who Rheernyra had shared her bad with that night. She had spoke to you of this a week after, since you broth were always close, your mother’s death bringing you even closer. You did not mind. Several lords went around having bastards, women too laid with men before marriages, you knew of it, why must Rhaenyra be kept from something she wanted But your sombre mood was not for your sister’s situation. Rhaenyra was strong and she welcomed things in her life with courage, even this marriage. Your issue was that your father, after he had talked with Rhaenyra, had a conversation with you too. You will be wed by the next year to a man of your father’s choosing. He did not seem to want another one of his daughters going and finding trouble.

You had hoped your father would give you the same liberty of choosing your husband that was given to Rhaenyra. You would not had minded choosing, you weren’t picky. You were a second daughter, getting many in a good family was always supposed to be your job. But you would have rather preferred if you could have a little bit of choice in it.

Thank you, Rhaenyra, I love you. But you fucked it up for me, Fuck you.

“Something on your mind, sweet niece?” You turned to Daemon who sat on your right. You were given the seat beside the Queen Alicent, not your preferable place, things between you and Alicent were awkward. She was your sister’s friend turned step-mother. You didn’t talk much, it was weird.

You sighed, turning to your uncle, who had come back from his trip to Stepstones a few days back. He had proven is determination when it came to the barren land. He had won it and now with your father’s blessings looked after the protection of Westros from there, visiting the place some times. “Father is setting up my betrothal.”

Daemon frowned, you could tell he was not happy, Daemon had been a constant in your and Rhaenyra’s life even of he was banished half of the time, more to you. While Rhaenyra had your father, you had your uncle. “Who?”

“I cannot say,” You fiddled with your cup of wine, you had lost your focus, drifting off in solace of solitude. “Father has not told me. But he says I will be wed by this time next year.”

Daemon did not reply. And you turned your attention to middle of room, Rhaenyra and Laenor had started to dance. You tipped your cup up, finishing your wine in one go you did not notice anything after that.

You did not notice how Daemon’s hand clenched around his cup as he glared at anything he could see, how his lilac eyes would fall over you, locking at your distressed race, how he counted each line that marred your forehead, how your tongue had slipped out of your mouth to catch the stray drop of wine and how licked it, your red tinged tongue moving over your lips wetting them. And you certainly did not notice the way he gripped Dark Sister’s pommel when Ser Harwin had come to ask you for a dance and you had agreed, leaving with the large dark haired knight.

No you did not.

You danced with other lords but again found Your way to Ser Harwin, or he did to you.

He spoke something to you, learned down so only you could hear him, Daemon could only imagine how he would be taking in your scent of jasmines, such a calming fragrance.

You nod.

He could not hear you from the distance but he had been around you for a lot longer to imagine how sweet your laughter must be in Strong knight’s ears.

This was it.

Daemon slammed his cup on the table, gathering attention of a few people around him and walked away, his brother’s cautioned words, blurred in his ears.

Ser Harwin was telling you about his tales of City Watch, how he sometimes sees the most hilarious things. Your favourite being the one where a certain lord was hit and thrown out of a pleasure house by one the workers and Ser Harwin had found him crying drunk with a bruised cheek. You had not noticed Daemon’s presence until he asked Ser Harwin if he could have a dance with you.

Who was he to say no to a seasoned warrior and dragon rider who could burn him to ashes if declined what he wanted.

“Ziry issa?” Is it him? Daemon asked you, you had well spotted the frown on his face and anger that was flowing in his lilac eyes. Something you could not comprehend.

“Skoros?” What?

Daemon takes your hand his, you let him guide to where ever he wants to, which happens to the farthest part of the dancing area, lesser people are here and you understand that whatever it must be that he wants to speak of he doesn’t want other to hear.

“Harwin,” He looks away from you and you follow his eyes, finding them on your father. It takes a moment for you to realise what he is asking.

“gimin daor,” I don’t know. You sighed. “It doesn’t matter does it, kepus? I must trust Father in his choice.”

“Your father’s choice?” He whispered, you could feel his breath tickling on your neck. “Look at this choice of his. Laenor is a good man but he will bore your sister senseless. And let us not forget his tastes.”

“It’s not that I don’t wish to marry, kepus,” You mutter, you suddenly found his doublet more interesting than the music or the dance. “But...”

Daemon hummed, his hand softly drew circles on the small of you back, you felt a shiver going through you.

“I understand politics but... I’d rather not be used as a pawn for gain without my say. At least without me knowing who I will be tied to for my whole life. I love my father, I really do,” you sighed, your eyes fell on your father and Alicent sitting beside him in a green dress. This wedding looked more like a disaster. “Look how miserable Alicent is. I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.”

Daemon listened to every word that left your mouth keenly. He embedded all of them in his very soul. His niece, his sweet and young niece who had been nothing but kind to him despite everything he might have one that could have hurt her. Even when his brother had sent him away for giving a moniker to his dead nephew all those years before. She had come to say good bye to him. Told him how she did not care for a boy who she didn’t even knew and wished him a safe journey, His little doll who always came to him when she didn’t like the braids her maid would put in her hair and have him redo everything.

I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.

And he imagined you, sitting beside some very aged lord, with life span of no long than a few years, who didn’t seem to be caring about anything but the cup of wine in his hands, children standing beside you and one in your hands, all while you looked sullen.

No. He couldn’t let it happen, Not when he knew how marriages like that ended up being.

He smiled at you, one his hand grabbing yours and other one caressing the soft skin of your cheeks, He looked at you with such intensity, with such fondness that you couldn’t help but feet the heat crawling up your neck.

“You won’t end up like her.” He told you and you knew better than anyone that his words were not hollow. It was an unsaid promise.

The wedding did turn out to be a disaster. Rhaenyra’s sworn shield had murdered Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, an event which had led to a rushed marriage between Rhaenyra and Laenor. As soon as the chaos erupted, your uncle had pulled you away towards the doors of the hall since you both were closer to it than the royal table.

The stress had caused your father to collapse and another thing had come to light some disease was eating him alive and now he had lost his arm.

In all, the day had been a like riding a wild dragon.

From what you could tell it was past midnight. And you could think of nothing better than trying to put yourself to sleep. It hadn’t taken much too. As your head hit the pillow and darkness engulfed you.

You had been sleeping deeply and peacefully. The tiring and stressed moments of the wedding had lulled you like an infant after having drunk a tummy full of milk.

You could not understand what it was that had woken you up. You felt hot. Surely it wasn’t winter and days in King’s Landing were hot sometimes but not so much to cause her such bother. Though it was not enough to cause you to get out of your sleepy reverie.

You let out a whine when you felt something moving over you leg and your shoulder, making you pull your leg away and shake your shoulder to put whatever was causing you discomfort away. The point between your legs felt wet, making you a bit worried about your moon blood but you were too far gone in sleep to care.

It was the wine you had drank like water before going to sleep. Curse the fucking thing.

It was a sound, something like a chimes that hit each other when wind flowed, that made you snap out of our daze a little bit. You forced you eyes your to open as much as they could which wasn’t a lot. You were drunk and sleepy. But you could recognise that voice and figure even in your blurred sight.

“Kepus?”

Daemon smiles at you. There were very few people who had seen him really smile genuinely. You were one of them. But this smile was different. There was something different about it. You couldn’t comprehend it.

Daemon hushed you, his hand softly laying you back again, It was then when you slowly started to come to sense. He was hovering over you and you felt his other hand between your legs, right on your...

“Kepus, what are you doing?” You almost shrieked, understanding what was going on, “Kepus, what—"

“Be quiet, sweet girl,” Daemon whispered, and leaned down, his lips falling on your cheeks, so, so close to your lips. His fingers circling your cunny, a place that was not supposed to be bare to anyone but your husband. “You didn’t want to be a pawn, right?”

“But-but Daemon—” whatever you were thinking of saying was long forgotten when you felt his his finger entering you, your breath hitched at the foreign sensation. “We shouldn’t.” You whispered, you weren’t sure if you had spoken it or if it was in your mind only.

“And why?” His voice low, you felt as if you were speaking of some centuries old secret with him. “I promised you that I wouldn’t let you be married just like this. I will keep my promise, sweet niece.”

“Daemon,” you whispered, your denial was dying on your lips with him adding another finger in you, his thumb rolling around your nub and his lips on your neck. He hummed and those were the sweetest vibration you had ever felt on your skin, a shiver passing from the junction of your neck and shoulder to your core. Some cold wind had not caused this. This you know. It was him, your kepus who did this.

Your hands went to his shoulders, bare shoulders, he did not have his tunic on. Your skin touching his warm one. He was always warm. Like a dragon. “Please,” you gasped feeling his fingers go deep in you and you squeezed his shoulders.

His fingers moved faster in you, his teeth biting at your ear, “Is this what you are asking, sweetling?”

If only you knew what you wanted. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to let go of this feeling. “Yes-fuck-kepus!” You moaned feeling his fingers curl in you. And then another on being added.

“Don’t worry,” Daemon kissed your forehead, and you realised how really small you were in front of his tall stature. Even laying he could easily reach you forehead when his fingers were far down. “Kepus will take care of. Always.”

You knew he would. Mayhap, it was that fact that you had not called out for someone.

You felt your lower abdomen clenched, you weren’t sure it was. It felt as if someone was pulling at it but from inside. And somehow it felt good too. “Kepus, Kepus, there...”

“I know, sweet girl,” his fingers moved in you even more faster, and that was all you could feel. “Let go. Just let go.”

His thumb softly pressed on your nub and you gasped.

Something washed over you, something ecstatic. You felt free. Just like when you were on dragon back.

You panted, feeling as if you were knocked out of breath. Maybe you were. You look at Daemon, as he softly pulls his fingers out of you, putting them in his mouth, you couldn’t help the heat on your face when you remembered that it was your arousal that he was happily sucking off his fingers.

You looked at him in daze, everything seemed hazy for a few moments. Daemon leaned over you, his knuckles brushing your cheeks before his lips dropped on yours.

They were surprisingly soft, you had always imagined him having a hard touch but here he was, touching you as if you were made of glass, that you would break at the slight wrong caress. You felt his tongue on your lips, and you opened, letting his soft muscle of his mouth melt into yours.

You let him do what he wished to for some moments, unaware of what you were supposed to do but it didn’t take you long to catch up and you moved your tongue against his, you felt losing breath by every moment though nothing seemed to matter. It was heaven where Daemon was taking you. And you did not want to fall down from there.

“Fuck!” You heard Daemon curse as he parted from you, and his lips fell on your jaw and something hard rubbing your core. Your hips bucked up, unconsciously and you moaned. “Stop doing that, sweet girl,” Daemon spoke, his lips were moving down and down from your jaw to your neck, his hands pushing the sleeves of your slip down, his mouth leaving wet trails between your breast.

“kepus,” you were too lost. Your uncle looked like one of those Gods of Old Valyria. So beautiful, his burnt skin like stars on the dark sky. Your hands wrapped around his arms, feeling his full strong muscles, your finger traced the healed wounds, you felt your inside twist and turn. “kepus,”

Daemon pulled away, his eyes were dark, almost pitch black, he was sat between your legs. When did that happen you weren’t aware. You chest heaved as you took each breath greedily and watched his hands moving to his breeches’ laces, pulling them and he shed off them off. You eyes were on him, whole of him and your breath hitched.

So lost in the sight of him you didn’t know when he came back and kissed you, until his cock rubbed into you and you moaned. “Kepus,”

“Shh. It’s alright.” He whispered, his hips moved, you could feel him even when he wasn’t inside you. “Fucking hells, you are wet. You want this just much, don’t you?”

You didn’t get to answer him, feeling his head on your entrance, at this moment.

“This will hurt, sweetling.” Daemon kissed your forehead, his hands brushed your cheeks and hair just like when he wanted to comfort you at any peril of your. “but it will become better. I will make it all better.” And with that he pushed inside you, slowly, and you felt yourself stretching around him as he moved in slow, sucking in breath sharply and curses leaving his mouth, all faded to you.

He wasn’t lying when he said to would hurt. “kepus,” Your nails dug into his shoulders and he kissed your cheek with caressing your head all the while.

“Good girl, such a sweet girl, taking my cock so nicely.” You could hear his groans loud and clear even when he was speaking softly and slowly. “so tight, so firm. But you will take it, won’t you?”

You didn’t answer but hid your face in his neck, tightening your hold on him. You felt tore apart, yet you didn’t want to let go. “so big, kepus,” you whispered as he continued to bottom himself inside you and he kissed your neck saying words of praises.

It felt like hours when he stopped, Daemon by then had bit on your neck several times, you felt as if you’d had bled, but there was no worry about it. He won’t hurt you. You knew.

“Open your eyes, love,” He whispered and you did, he was just a hair width away from you and you could look at his eyes so clearly, his pools of lilac, light than that was your. You wished to have his eyes in your childhood.

He kissed you again and you kissed back. You couldn’t have enough of his mouth on yours, the taste of yourself and the wine mixed in both of your mouth was so sweet to you.

“Come to Dragonstone with me,” His forehead touched yours. Both of you were breathing each other in, “Take me to husband and I will take to you wife, in tradition of our house. You won’t be like her. Ever.”

You won’t be like her, he said. And you knew he was true to his words. He will be. He will not. Not like Alicent.

Not like her.

“Avy jorraelan, Kepus.” I love you, uncle.

Daemon smiled. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen in your life. “Avy jorraelan, donus rinus.” I love you, sweet girl.

Daemon moved in you, slow at first, so deep, you moaned at each stroke, every time his hips met yours, you couldn’t help but cry out first in discomfort and then in pleasure.

His lips descended upon your breast, taking your nubs in his mouth, he suckled at one like a babe hungry for their mother’s milk, his other hand playing with your other and his hips pushing into yours. You couldn’t hear anything but his grunt and groans and your moans and whimper.

Daemon held your legs, putting them around his waist. If you thought he was deep before, he was reaching way inside you.

“This cunt, your cunt was made for me, sweet girl. Look how good it take me. Even when you were asleep. Getting wet for me. It knows it’s mine. You know that too, don’t you?” you ought to feel humiliated and offended at such words. Being owned by some was not something you liked. But the way Daemon said it only made you clench harder around him making him groan, “fuck, yes. Yes, you do.”

“Yes. Yes, Kepus.” You whimpered at his fast pace inside you. Lost in the world of pleasure you were, you couldn’t hold your noises anymore. But of course you uncle would remedy it for you, putting his lips on yours, drinking every single sound in which left your mouth.

You clenched, your hands in his hair, pulling at them, feeling the tugging feeling as before in you. Daemon knew it all well.

“Going to give you my seed and you will swell with our child, sweet,” Daemon muttered in your ear. You felt yourself liking the prospect. Even imagining it in your head as your uncle rutted in you.

Our child.

“Yes”, you nodded, kissing his neck, “a babe, Kepus. With your eyes. I love your eyes.”

“Whatever, my sweet girl wants.” He grunted and you clenched on him again.

“Fuck, kepus.” You moaned, you were sure by now you had scratched his back bloody. “I... I feel it. It hurts.”

“I know, sweetling,” he muttered, “Let go. Just like before. Let it go.”

It wasn’t long you felt the same bliss wash over you and you felt warmth fill you in. Daemon’s seed, you knew it was as you both panted. Daemon stopped moving inside you after a few more strokes, but he did not pull out. He lowered himself to your bed and pulled you on him.

You rested your head on his chest, some silver hair, rubbing against your cheek, you took in the scent of his sweat, his skin glistening under the moonlight that fell in your room.

You felt him pull the sheet over the both of you, his hand running over your hair and exhaustion began to take over you. Your eyes drooped but you kept blinking the sleep away.

“Sleep,” Daemon kissed your head and you fell asleep just as quick as you had woken up, you hands wounded around his neck.

You prayed it not to be a dream.

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #hotd #targ reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targareyn smut #rhaenyra targaryen #king viserys #alicent hightower #viserys i targaryen #house of the dragon fic #hotd fic

[fairysluna]

HERE AGAIN

43. “Go on ride my thigh.” WITH HARWIN

knight in shining armor.

When the Red Keep is attacked, Ser Harwin is the one in charge of your protection. Spending the night by your side, he finds it hard to keep his emotions under control.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Harwin Strong x Targ!Fem!Reader.

TAGS — fluff (a bit too much, I'm sorryy), smut —thigh riding, nipple play, oral fixation, praise, virgin!reader, dirty talk—, sexual tension, descriptions of nudity, mentions of blood and violence, murder. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — small context: here the dance of the dragons doesn't happen, Rhaenyra never fucked Harwin and the greens and blacks are a lovey dovey family. Long live fanfiction for this. A big, big thank you to @bucknastysbabe for beta reading this!! Ilysm!!🤍

My baby bel, i think i put a bit too much fluff into the mix while writing this, but i hope you like it and enjoy it. Ilyy🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.6k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

A thunderous sound woke you up from your peaceful slumber. By looking around in the darkness of your chambers, you could tell something was wrong; a strange atmosphere appeared in the air, something odd that brought an inexplicable chill in your spine. You arose from your bed, walking barefooted towards the nearest window and peeking outside - the cold wind that entered the room sent shivers through your body, causing goosebumps to arise across your skin. It had to be the hour of the Wolf, you could barely see a thing.

There was a group of guards marching towards the entrance of the Red Keep; you heard them bellow, but you were not able to make sense of their words. They ran from one side to another, picking up their swords and shields, giving commands to one another. You grew curious to know the reason behind such a fuss and the answer came quicker than you expected. While you were observing a knight standing beside the arsenal and keeping guard on the perimeter, another man silently approached him- wearing all black, camouflaging in the darkness of the night.

A small part of you told you to look away, but you stood there - eyes fixed on the guard. Curiosity killed the cat.

Out of the blue, the black-clad specter reached for the knight, and before you could discern what the man had done to him, you saw red flooding out under the moonlight - staining his prestigious white cloak. You froze in your place as you saw the guard falling to his knees before his entire body reached the dirt on the floor. The air escaped from your lungs as you witnessed such a gruesome scene, feeling your heart beating frantically in reaction.

It only became worse once the unknown man looked up, right at your window. Right at you, steely eyes glinting.

Immediately, you took a few steps back - your hand covering your mouth and muffling a squeal as soon as you realized what had happened. Chills traveled around your body, and before you realized, your cheeks were soaking with tears of horror and fear. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your chest feeling heavy and tight. That man saw you, he would certainly come after you now.

Your feet kept moving, eyes fixed in the window as you walked backwards, as far as possible from that frightening scene. In that moment, you felt your back hit something cold and hard before two strong arms wrapped around your body and squeezed you between them. You yelped, screaming hysterically with the thought that it will be your turn now - squirming desperately as you tried to be freed from the arms of the person who was holding you down.

Then you heard his voice.

“Princess, it's me!” The familiar voice exclaimed, loosening the grip around your body and allowing you to turn around to see him. He removed his helmet, throwing it onto the floor. “It's me, my sweet princess,” he repeated, this time more calm and with a soothing tone in his timbre. He placed his big, calloused hand on your cheek.

The relief washed over you as you saw your beautiful knight in shining armor standing before you, tense shoulders instantly relaxing as you locked your lilac eyes with his deep brown ones. His gaze was soft, but it still showed signs of his preoccupation for you. His thumb brushed against your skin, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face. You leaned towards his touch and he sighed.

“You're safe with me,” Ser Harwin murmured. “Everything will be okay…” His impressive frame towered over your smaller one; you had to look up at him as your hand wrapped around his wrist.

Harwin was taken aback once he felt your trembling arms wrapping around his armor. You hung from his neck as he picked you up from the floor. One of his hands held your waist, while the other went to your nape - keeping you close to him. The coldness of the metal was pressing against your cheek, and you closed your eyes - silently crying against his shoulder. Your heart fluttered inside your chest once he tightened his grip around your body; you felt safe in his arms.

“Shh… it's fine,” he cooed against your ear. His lips pressed against your head. “No one will hurt you if I'm with you, princess. No one will harm you.”

“What happened? What's going on?” you asked between sobs.

“Some miscreants managed to go through the gates, they're now being secured in the black cells. They’re trying to find those who are inside the Keep,” he explained while he slowly put you back on your feet - a soft whine involuntarily left your lips once you stopped feeling his warmth. “I've come as soon as I heard.”

“Is my family safe? My mother, my siblings? Rhaenyra and the children?”

“They are all being guarded by members of the king's guard,” Harwin replied.

You nodded before you took a look around his face, as if you were trying to search for some wound - just in case he needed your help. “Are you hurt?” A little smile appeared on his handsome face once he noticed your worry. “Did- did they hurt you?”

“No,” he answered. “And you shall not worry about me, princess…”

You pressed your lips in a thin line before murmuring - a bit embarrassed, “you know I'll always worry about you.”

Harwin paused to take a look at you; his heart beating fast with the mere sight of you, feeling like a green boy whenever you were around, staring up at him with those pretty, sparkling eyes of yours. So beautiful, so precious. It was no secret between you two that your feelings had flourished like roses in Spring. Yet, even when the deep affections were obviously mutual, both of you were scared to act on it. It was forbidden, and - somehow - that made it even more tempting for both. How scandalous, King Viserys daughter has the Hand’s son as a paramour.

“Mayhaps your royal highness should go back to sleep,” Harwin suggested. “On the morrow all this would be just a faint memory.”

“I don't think I will be able to do it,” you told him, taking a step back and wiping your tears away. “I lost all my sleep with what I've just seen…it was awful, terrible…”

Harwin approached you again as he noticed your despair - your voice breaking in the middle of your words and your eyes glistening once again by a layer of new tears. He cupped your face, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks.

“It's okay, my sweet angel,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours - you closed your eyes. His closeness made your heart beat faster, and the syrupy way the name that came out of his plump lips almost caused you to sigh. “Come here, let's sit down for a second, alright?” Harwin motioned.

Obediently, you grabbed his hand as he guided you through your room, finding a comfortable spot in the large settee right in the middle of your chambers. Once Harwin turned around, he finally noticed what you were wearing; a thin see through nightgown. His eyebrows twitched and mouth went dry. He knew that the right thing was to look away, give the privacy you needed - yet he couldn't manage to take his eyes off of you, his lovely princess. He followed a path from your face, going downwards towards your neck and collarbones - he even imagined how they would look with small marks from his lips printed on them. He continued shamelessly eyeing you, finding your breasts; he felt his throat getting dry once he noticed your pebbled nipples peeking through the white fabric of your nightgown. His mouth watered, resisting the urge to think how they would feel against his tongue. Unexpectedly, he felt his pants getting tighter.

That's when he knew that enough was enough. You were a princess; his princess. You deserve the utmost respect. He couldn't allow himself to think of you in that way, especially on a night like this one.

Harwin cleared his throat, sitting down on the couch and tapping the empty spot by his side - once again, you obeyed. Your body curled by his side, clinging into his armor, laying your head on his chest as his arm went around your shoulder to keep you close. You squirmed a bit, trying to make sense of the feeling between your legs - the one that grew more intense once you noticed the desire on his eyes.

“Close your eyes, try to rest. I'll be here when you wake up,” he promised.

You nodded, making yourself comfortable and doing what he told you to do - and you really tried, yet it seemed impossible for you to take that horrid image off your mind. Your whole body would tremble with the thought of being murdered in the same way. Each time you would close your eyes, that was all you could see. It was torturous, a bone chilling fear that didn't let you rest.

That scarlet blood seeping down white cloth played over and over again in your racing mind.

Before you noticed, you were sobbing again. Harwin, chivalrous as always, grabbed your quivering body and placed you on his lap, rocking your body from side to side as a desperate attempt to try and calm you down. It wounded him to see you like this, so scared and defenseless - he even wondered what he could do to make your anguish go away.

“He saw me… he'll come and try to- to kill me!” you whined - your lower lip shaking uncontrollably. “I cannot- I cannot stop thinking about it all.”

Growing up as a princess left you inside a bubble. Behind the thick walls of the castle you never had to watch or see something as such - the evilness of people. Harwin has always told you that you had a pure heart and soul, always oblivious to the wrongdoings of the people. You never knew how cruel people truly were, and now that you saw it you couldn't stop thinking about it.

“Nothing will happen to you, not if I'm here,” Harwin softly whispered. “I will always protect you, my precious angel.”

But then he thought of his words again; he might protect you from the enemies, from the dangers of the world, but how was he supposed to protect you from the torment that was caused by your own mind? How could he possibly make you forget about it?

He knew the answer, but he knew it was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Come here.” Harwin invited you to sit on his lap. In any other occasion you would doubt a bit before assenting to do it, but in that moment all you wanted was to feel safe, to feel him against you as he got rid of all your fears with his mere presence - you couldn't resist.

His hands grabbed your hips as he lifted you up and motioned you until you were sitting on top of him - your arms around his broad body as you laid on his shoulder. His hands went to your head, his fingertips softly caressing your scalp while he soothed you again.

For him, it was quite hard to ignore the fact that the only thing in the middle of your nudity was a thin piece of fabric that did nothing to hide your body. He could see it, but you could feel it. At first you just sighed - the coldness of the metal covering his thigh would touch the heat between your legs, which was growing more intense with every passing second. You shivered, holding back a gasp when you accidentally moved your hips.

Out of the sudden, a thunderous sound similar to the one that woke you up was heard again. Your body jumped due to the shock, and your eyes widened with terror.

“Harwin…” you mumbled his name, almost as if you were begging him to make it stop, even when you knew he couldn't do anything more than stay by your side.

“Look at me, Princess,” he replied, his voice becoming slightly raspy as his big hands went to your hips. You felt how he started to pull your nightgown upwards - he had given up his hesitation to do this, defiling the pure little angel. How your doe-eyes and small body contrasted against his large frame, Strong was ensnared. The knight no longer fought against the carnal urges. He needed to take your mind elsewhere, and this was the only way he could think of. You tried to look down as he kept pulling the only layer of clothes that would cover your body - the only thing that separated your warmth from the coldness of the metal on his thigh, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. “Don't look away from me, angel…”

You obeyed, slightly parting your lips as the fabric brushed against your flesh, and once your cunt was laying naked on top of his leg, you felt a shiver running down your spine. Harwin’s honeyed gaze did not tear from your face at any moment, reluctant to see your most vulnerable places. He felt unworthy of it. He wasn't going to see you, he wasn't going to touch your vulnerable petals - he was just going to let you use him as you please.

“Ser Harwin…” you repeated his name in a gasp as his hands moved your hips on top of him. Gentle movements at first, just to see how you would react; that's when you moaned, feeling metal rubbing directly against your clit. It felt odd, but extremely good.

“Don't stress your mind any further,” he whispered, almost feeling breathless. “Forget about everything, just focus on what you feel…”

With your eyes closed, you placed your hands on his shoulder in order to find some stability when he slightly quickened the pace. The whimper that left your lips would be carved in Harwin’s mind forever, haunting his nights and increasing his need for you. You were there, in front of him looking so angelic, yet so sinful - he was tightening his grip on your hips, digging his fingertips on your flesh as a desperate attempt to hold back; the urge to rip that nightgown was almost unbearable. He needed to touch you, even when it was awfully wrong to do so.

One of his hands left your hip, moving upwards until it cupped your face. Your cheeks were burning beneath his touch, too flustered and shy to hold his haze for too long. You weren't stupid, you knew what was going on and you knew what it meant, yet it was hard for you to care when it felt this good.

Involuntarily, you started to move your hips on your own, growing needy and aching to feel more of him. You longed for his hands on your skin, touching every inch of you until his scent was spread all over your body - yet, he denied you of that, too scared of not being able to stop if he got to fondle your curves.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, his voice so deep and husky, almost making you purr like a kitten between his arms.

“S’good…” you whined in response, mouth agape and letting gasps fall from your lips.

Harwin shifted his position, trying to find some comfortable posture that would make him forget about the ache inside his breeches. He laid back on the settee, spreading his legs and letting you place your hands on his chest. You soon started to move your hips again, moaning his name.

“Fucking hell…” he groaned, now getting a full view of your body. “Go on, ride my thigh…” Those words slipped his lips before he was able to stop them. He felt ashamed, but you loved to hear them, driving your pace harder in reaction.

Your eyes opened and you found Harwin looking up at you as you used him for your own pleasure. He sat there, your weeping cunt coating his armor with your slick as you rubbed yourself on him; you quickly noticed how hard it was for him not to look down - not to look at the sinful view of your swollen bud brushing against him. Instead, his eyes remained on your face, lost in your glossy eyes and swollen lips. He was bewitched with the way your face would express the pleasure you were feeling; Blessed may be the gods for giving him the opportunity to see you like that.

His thumb moved closer to your lips, and you were quick to trap it inside your mouth, sucking and nibbling at it while your movements became more intense. Harwin couldn't resist, and he moaned once he felt your tongue swirling around his digit, imagining how that very same tongue would feel on his cock.

“This feels better than your pillow, doesn't it?” He suddenly groaned. On any other occasion, he would be too ashamed to mention that - the fact that he has heard you pleasuring yourself, yet he couldn't help it… the words slipped out of his mouth before he was able to hold them back. “Do you think of me when you do it?” He asked, almost begging to admit it, longing to hear you say it.

Though you were in no position to speak - too overwhelmed already, you manage to mumble a positive answer, humming as you nodded. A little smirk appeared on the knight's face, making him look even more charming than he already was. You felt your body melt in his arms.

With the motion of your body becoming more intense - faster, your nightgown slowly started to fall down your body, exposing your pebbled nipples to the hungry haze of the man beneath you. The struggle inside his mind was killing him, he wasn't supposed to touch you yet his body craved for it. His mouth watered at the sight while you kept moaning around his finger.

“Touch yourself for me, my angel,” he murmured, as if that would cease his cravings.

He removed his hand from your face, grabbing your wrist and relocating it to your breasts. You moaned at your own touch as you pulled your nipples and played with your own flesh. You leaned forward then, pressing your forehead against his, open-mouthed as you gasped when he grabbed your hips to control your movements once again. Harwin closed his eyes, groaning when you whined and mewled.

You sounded so beautiful.

“Come on, my princess,” he breathlessly said. His lips were merely a few inches away from yours. He fought the urge to devour your swollen lips. “Fucking hell… my angel, keep rubbing your sweet pussy against me. It feels so good, doesn't it? Bet you can’t think of anything else…”

“Harwin, I- I feel…”

“Sh… just let go. Fuck yourself on me, use me as you please. Let me help you empty that pretty head of yours.”

Harwin gave one last look at your trembling body before he started to bounce his leg, thick thigh adding more stimulation that almost made you scream. It was too much - the possessive grip around your hips was making it hard for you to think about anything else. You fantasized about him, about his hands, about his mouth… you longed for his touch, to feel huge calloused hands on your silken skin. You wondered how it would feel to have him inside of you, to let him defile your body. You wanted it so bad.

The thoughts soon started to push you over the edge. The metal covering Harwin’s thigh was soaked with your slick, it was slippery enough to fasten your movements until you couldn't hold it any longer. Your body weight fell forward, your hips twitching as your release oozed out of your weeping cunt, his name falling from your lips like a chant - as a way to thank him. Harwin felt his cock aching underneath his trousers, painfully hard, too damn close to coming undone.

“So good, my beautiful princess…” he whispered as he caressed your hair. His touch burning against now sensitive skin. “Bet you're not thinking about that bad man anymore, are you?”

You could only whine in response. Tired, overstimulated, and sleepy.

“Let's get you to bed now, shall we?”

Harwin grabbed your waist, lifting you up effortlessly as you leaned on his shoulders. Ever the gentleman, he fixed your gown and covered your nudity as he took you to the bed. He placed you delicately over the soft mattress and you hummed when he wrapped your trembling body on the silk sheets.

He leaned back then, but you grabbed his hand before he could go further away. “Please, don't,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Stay with me… Lay here.”

“My princess-”

“Please.”

And he couldn't say no.

You heard how he started to get rid of his armor, slowly detaching the pieces of metal from his body until there were just thin layers of clothes covering his body. He cautiously laid behind you - not wanting you to feel the hardness under his trousers, yet you grabbed his hand and forced him to wrap his limbs around your body, feeling the need to have him as close as possible.

Silence fell on the room, just hearing his calm breathing as he closed his eyes and smelled the sweet perfume lingering in your hair. But then, you spoke again.

“Ser Harwin?” you uttered his name so delicately it almost felt like a caress.

“Yes?”

There was a small pause, a moment of doubt. You continued regardless.

“I… I think I might be in love with you.”

Harwin's heart skipped a beat on his chest, and a smile appeared on his face. He felt a joy that he had never felt before.

“Princess?” Now it was him calling your name.

“Yes, sir?”

“I am in love with you.”

TAGS — @islandfantasydream

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

#harwin strong #harwin strong imagine #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x reader #ser harwin #harwin strong x you #harwin strong x y/n #harwin strong x targ!reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you

[spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack]

command me. - aemond targaryen.

MINORS DNI- smut ahead you will be blocked <3

prompt- aemond has always been able to you get you to do his bidding, his voice brings you to your knees.

wanted to put something out as im so bored lol might start writing feyd rautha smut too (did NOT know i could be attracted to a bald person)

warning; nsfw, dual masturbation, no penetration, smut, cum eating, aemond being vocal.

You awaken as Aemond enters your chambers, his steps thunderous as he makes his way to you; standing at the edge of your bed. His flushed appearance and clothing let you know where he'd come from, training with Ser Criston usually got him heated. Aemond and you where by no means married, or even heading that way; but alas sometimes you two yearned for each other in a way only you two could sate.

Your nightgown hid nearly nothing as you stretched your arms around, a meek yawn as you rubbed your eyes. "Aemond... lekia(brother), what time do you call this?" You smile up at him as you crawl to him, your nightgown slipping down as you moved. Aemond smirked, letting out a hum of approval. you pushed your hair to one side, before wrapping your arms around his waist; inhaling his scent. Aemonds hand slipped through your hair, enrapturing themselves in your silver locs. His built frame leant over you as he pulled your head back, you let out a whimper at the pain; but your thighs clenched as you leaned back.

"Have you been well-behaved, mandia?(sister)" Aemond purred, smirking as he let go of your hair; moving his hand down to cup your cheek. Violet clashed with violet as his thumb traced across your lip, your lips parted as you smirked at him. Gods, had you tried to kill him? Aemond moaned at how sinful you were as you took his thumb graciously. Your lips trapped his thumb, taking it deeper as you wrapped your tongue around it.

"Lean back, sȳz riña (good girl)." Aemond groaned hesitantly, not even the gods could tear his eyes away from you. You let go of his thumb and leaned back, laying on your elbows as you watched him.

He went over to your fireplace and picked up one of the chairs at your desk, the leather of his shirt pulsed as his muscles involuntarily flexed. You felt your body get weak as he placed it across from the bed.

Aemond bit the hair tie around his wrist as he placed his hair in a bun. You sighed at the sight, he was simply so beautiful.

Aemonds eyebrow pinched, "Getting impatient, dear sister?" You watched as he fiddled with the latch of his eye patch, his fingers adept in many things. "No, just admiring; although confused."

His eyebrow quirked, as he placed his eye patch in his pocket. "Calm, ñuha jorrāelagon(my love). Undress for me." He smirked, watching as you immediately moved into action; fingers fumbling at your laces.

Aemonds snarky smirk fell when you eagerly pushed your night gown down, your nipples hardened at the cold air; Aemonds lack of smirk didn't go unnoticed by you as your fingers trailed down to your lacy garments. "What now, brother?" Your breathy voice cut off his thoughts as he watched you tease yourself. He grunted as he unlaced his pants slowly.

"Get yourself off, rene.(slut)" Aemond watched you as you pushed your garments aside, revealing your wet cunt. He groaned as he pulled his cock free from its confinements, a whimper left your lips as your fingers gradually crawled down to your sopping hole. Your slender fingers dug into your cunt, satisfying your carnal desires enough for you to let out a wanton moan.

Aemond seemed breathless as he fisted his cock at the sight of it all, your legs shaking as your fingers built up a rhythm, your silver tresses seemed to stick to you as your face pinched, and your other hand trailed up your stomach and to your breasts; leaving behind goosebumps as your pinch your nipples.

Aemond hisses out as he watches you come undone, your fingers shaking as you rub your pearl. A sight that makes Aemond move his hand faster along his cock; the sight before him making him cum. Your loud moans filled his ears as you squirted, panting and whimpering. He groaned as his fisting came to a halt as his pearly white semen landed onto his hand. His eyes turned to you, "Come here, beloved." His now quiet but demanding voice made you do as he said, your shaking thighs didn't help as you pulled yourself off the bed and into his awaiting presence.

"Kneel," He smirked as you sunk to your knees before him. You knew what he desired for you to do, so you took his messy fingers into your mouth - eyes closed as you swallowed his cum eagerly; a moan leaving your flushed lips as you taste his salty liquids.

"What do you say, girl?" Aemonds clean hand falls to your throat as he pulls his fingers from your eager mouth, you whimper meekly. "Thank you, brother." the words fall from your lips before you can catch them, his grip tightens, gently of course.

"Not quite." Aemonds stern voice and faux frown made you clench your thighs, "Thank you.. husband." You smiled up at him, as he released his grip on your throat. "Good girl," His praise sends you into a spiral as you lay your head in his lap, blissed out.

#smut #hotd smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond targ #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #game of thrones smut #fanfic #fanfiction #aemond x you #you pov

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Maegor Targaryen x niece!readee

Warning: age gap, manipulative reader, in**st

A/N: There will be a part 2 probably but not sure at the moment

You always imagined you were going to marry your uncle to further the pure Targaryen bloodline. You have loved him and wanted him ever since you became a woman, but now are rumors going on that the council is advising Maegor, the king, to arrange your marriage to Lord Baratheon or Lord Lannister to have a strong alliance. You don't want that. You want to marry Maegor and become the queen, his other wives are irrelevant to you

You knew how to get Maegor and made a plan. That night you went to your uncle's room, wearing a very revealing night gown but acting innocent about it. The guards didn't dare try to stop you from going to his room. He was with one of his wives and she was on his knees pleasuring him with her mouth, it was more like Maegor roughly using her mouth.

"Uncle, I need to talk to you," You said softly and innocently. Maegor's eyes turned dark as soon as he saw you in the see through revealing night gown and he started to use his wife's mouth faster, and soon cum in her mouth. As soon as her job was done he dismissed her and she ran out of the room.

"What can I do for my dear niece?" Maegor asked as he sat down, all his attention on you and your beautiful body. "I have heard rumors that you are going to arrange my marriage with old lord Baratheon or Lord Lannister," You said softly as you poured him a cup of win gave it to him. You also picked up a wash clothes to get him cleaned up after he used his wife.

"The rumors's are true," Maegor said as he looked at you, his eyes mostly down your dress as you were on your knees and gently cleaning him with the wash cloth. "I don't want to marry them uncle," You replied. "Lord Baratheon is too old and Lord Lannister has already been married three times," You looked up at him with your innocence filled eyes.

Maegor gently caressed your cheek and pulled you up to sit on his lap. He threw away the wash cloth and held your hand, your soft skin gently brushing against his cock. "Then what do you want, my beautiful niece? You know I will throw all the alliances away for your happiness."

"I want to stay here by your side always. I want to be your wife and give you heirs," You replied. "I love you uncle, I always have and I don't want to ever leave you." Maegor was melted by your words. It's not like he never craved you, and he loves you the most or at least you are the only one he genuinely wants.

His grip around you tightened, his hand slowly moving from your waist to your breasts which are almost exposed because of the low cut of the night gown. "Then you will be by my side always. You will become my wife and we will further our pure bloodline," Maegor said before capturing your soft lips in a deep passionate kiss. Of course you kissed him back, his tongue dominating you. You can feel his cock now completely hard. As the kiss deepened you gave attention his cock with your soft hands which made Maegor go crazy.

He picked you up and took you to bed, and easily ripped apart the thin material of your dress. You have been dreaming of this moment for a long time and it is finally happening now. One last time you played innocent, trying to cover yourself with your hands. "Your wives and the council will not be happy if claim me before we get married," You said, sounding concerned, but in reality you were craving him. You want him to claim you. You were getting very wet between your legs and want him to use you.

"I don't care about them," Maegor said as he removed your hands and pinned them over your head. He kissed you again and started teasing you with his fingers. He was pleased to find how wet his beautiful young niece is for him. A gasp lep your lips when he pushed his finger inside you, it was music to his ears. He could feel how tight your virgin cunt his and can't wait to properly fuck you.

His cock was big but you believed it was made to fit your holes perfectly. It was the highest cunt Maegor has ever claimed and he was pleased it's yours.

The entire night he fucked you. Your moans were heard in the halls but you didn't care. He kissed and marked you everywhere, his seeds filled your womb.

After he pulled out he kissed your forehead and both slept, his arms caging you.

The next morning one of his wives came to do their duty and wake him up by pleasuring him but you ordered her to just step aside and not disturb. You kissed Maegor's lips and then started sucking his big cock.

The wife was shocked by the incestuous act as she thought you were marrying old lord Baratheon.

Maegor soon woke up and it felt like heaven. He let you pleasure him with you mouth a bit longer and then pinned you to the bed again before claiming your sore cunt again.

After he was done he ordered his wife to clean you up. She had no choice but to obey. He watched and talked as his wife gave you a warm bath which relaxed your body.

"Lord Baratheon and Lannister are joining us for the feast tonight. I want you to be by my side when I tell them the change of plans," Maegor said as you got out of the water. "Of course, my king," You smiled. You know there is now no one who can stop the union of you and Maegor now.

Since he ripped apart you night dress and you had nothing to wear, Maegor put his cloak around you himself. You two kissed but this time it was more gentle. "Take some rest, my beautiful niece. We will announce our wedding at the feast tonight."

Part 2?

#maegor targaryen x reader #maegor #maegor targaryen #maegor targaryen x niece!reader #maegor x niece #maegor x niece!reader #maegor the cruel #maegor targaryen x targ!reader #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #game of thrones imagines #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon imagine #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #got #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #got one shot #got oc #hotd oc #game of thrones headcanons

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

In which you accidentally go back in time because of a friend's stupid dare and catch the fancy of the prince because of your platinum dyed hair. Hey, that rhymes.

"You are aware that everything you like about me comes from a bottle, right?"

Scene I: you guys into roleplay or what?

⇨ Poll I for Scene II

Scene II: he kinda looks like my ex boyfriend

⇨ Poll II for Scene III

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand!

A/N: idk, couldn't shake this idea out of my head. i'm calling them scenes because they're gonna be stand alone fics in the same universe. might make more parts but i'd rather not hype everyone (and myself) up and then not commit HAHHAAH update: u guys its so hard to sustain a series T_T

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #accidental targ masterlist #hotd au #daemon au #accidental targ

[yoyokalicent]

you know, when it's time to go.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader

summary: you had to give up everything for him, it is what you intended to do anyway

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you did not know whether it was that the love you shared was forbidden or the thrill of what the consequences would be if you were to be caught but, every time your hand grazed jacaerys' your heart could not help but tighten. his words, touches, and kisses were softer than any love you felt from anyone within your family.

you know your mother loved you, truly. you were the only child that when she looked into their eyes she did not only see the king, and when alicent looked at you she saw herself. whether you liked it or not. after the night aemond lost his eye you saw her for what she is, a mother who would do anything to protect her kids, and most of the time she went too far.

though you knew that queen alicent under any circumstances would grant you anything you wished, she would never allow you jace. she quickly rejected rhaenyra's wish to marry you two earlier on in your childhood, it had always been her plan to marry you to aemond. it was a rumor until your grandsire brought it up before the council, and alicent came to you, alone.

"she wishes to betroth me." you told jace, mumbling into his warm chest. it was nights like these that you chose the warmth jacaerys brought you rather than the fire.

"who will get the pleasure of your hand?" you always knew jace as someone to joke, he made jokes of his birthright for as long as you knew him. deep down you knew these jests mask something much larger.

"aemond. i will not allow it jace, i will refuse no matter what they offer me."

"you know that is not an option, princess." the prince's hand rakes through your hair, a play of affection. knowing what transpired at the dinner would force their leave. it's out of his hands, so he wishes to keep you in his longer.

"you see the way my brother treats helaena, i do not wish for the same fate. do not let them do this to me, please." your words are bordering the way of begging, you cannot lose him. you cannot allow your mother to rip you away from the only person you want to be with.

"there is almost nothing i can do. i like this just as much as you do. do you think i want to see you with him? do you really think i would not do everything i can to stop you from bearing anyone's children but mine?" there he is, the prince you long for every night you're away from him. the prince who would fight everything for you, let go of every formality for you.

"there is something you could do, something your family can do." it is a lot to ask of his mother, but if he wanted you the way he swears he does, he would ask.

"which is?"

jacaerys holds his breath waiting for what you might say. it takes you a while before you move to lay atop him, looking into his eyes, "take me to dragonstone with you. make me your wife, make me your royal consort. take me away from them, do not let me marry aemond, let me marry you."

jace tightens his arms around you and looks down at you, how was he supposed to say no to the person he's always wanted? your eyes were soft, and loving in the way he always loved you, "i can ask it of my mother but, there is no saying she won't deny us."

"jace," the tears well up in your eyes, "please."

that is enough for jacaerys to remove you from his hold and dress, "where are you going?"

"to my mother's chambers."

jace is fast to dress and leave you alone with your thoughts, his approach to his mothers apartment is quick. he knows she is awake, she would never sleep on a night like this.

"jace? what are you doing away from your chambers?" she asks, fully dressed and with daemon behind her.

"i have something to ask you."

"and it is?" rhaenyra looks into her eldest eyes, knowing he has asked for little during his childhood. she knows this is something bigger than both of them.

"i have loved someone for a while, mother. someone who i am not promised to, or allowed to have." his words are worrisome, scared of his mother and if she may turn him away.

"and is it the princess y/n?"

"you know?" of course she knew, how could she not? the way he acted when they were children, and the way they looked at each other from across the dining table.

"i do, i have been in your place before." his mother walks toward him to hold his hand, "what are you here to ask?"

"can we," he pauses, looking for the words that are lost in his throat, this is not something that he should hold his tongue on, "bring her with us on our way back to dragonstone."

jacaerys can tell it isn't what his mother expected, completely thrown by her sons words.

daemon is the first to break the silence, "you want us to smuggle the princess to dragonstone?"

"i do not want to smuggle her. i want to marry her in my home, i want her to rule with me when i take the throne."

"bring the princess to me." rhaenrya says, ignoring both of the men she loves so dearly. wanting to speak directly to you.

your world stops quickly when jace enters the room again and ushers you to his mothers room, away from the eyes of the knights who are sworn to your protection.

your feet move slowly, scared that this meeting might be the reason you never see your love ever again. after a silent and anxious walk you are before rhaenyra, with a terrified look in your eyes.

she takes in your appearance, your hair is undone, eyes full of sadness, and your hand in jace's.

"i hear it is your wish to come with us, is that true?"

"yes, my dear sister. my mother wishes to marry me to aemond, and i do not plan to be in my chambers when the proposal is made final."

"so it is not of the love you hold for my son, but the resentment you hold toward your own brother?" you can tell her it is both, or you can tell her the truth. the whole of it.

"i love jacaerys, more than i could ever imagine. if i do not come with you i will be subjected to a life i do not want to lead. a life that is only a loveless marriage and being locked in this castle." rhaenyra understands fully, it was the life she had protested her entire adolescence, who is she to deny you?

"how are we to do this under the watchful eye of your mother?" a good question, how could you? you know your mother more than anyone in this room.

"my mother is terribly distracted by our fathers sickness, and the actions of aegon. if we move quickly, it can be done."

your words are confident, who knows if it can be done. your mother has eyes and guards everywhere, but you must try.

"a cloak can be worn to hide your identity, and if we leave early enough i am confident that we can get you on our ship." rhaenyra's hand grabs the one that is not occupied by jace's, "but are you willing to leave this behind? if you come with us you are expected to support our claim, and our claim only."

"i would have done that either way, sister." you're hand tightens around hers before leaving with jace to return to your chambers for the last time.

it is hard to be in your room, packing some of your clothes, some your mother had made for you, some that had memories attached to them. you know you cannot stay, you know if you do stay you will be nothing but miserable for the rest of your life. after putting some of your things in the small chest that you were gifted during your first trip to driftmark you put the tan cloak on, and look at yourself standing in the mirror. you were not the same girl you were years ago, you were a woman now. a woman that is leaving to start her own life, with the man she loves.

"its time to go, my love." you hear jace say, grabbing your chest and standing behind you in the mirror. you follow closely behind him and see the servants have just started to make their early morning rounds, you are quick to hold your cloak closely to you, not allowing your face to be shown to anyone.

there is a large ship at the end of the dock, you are so close to freedom, so close to your life with jacaerys. you see rhaenyra standing at the end of the ship looking out to king's landing.

the ship is nicer than you would have expected, the targaryen flags blow in the wind and you look up with a smile on your face once you are aboard, nothing can stop you now.

"how did you know when it was time to go?" you ask rhaenyra once you were close enough, wary about if you made the correct choice.

rhaenyra knew your leave could cause problems that would take over the realm and cause a large rift between houses, but when she looks at you she knows it would be worth it.

"you just know when it's time to go, and it seems you did."

"and what did you do when you knew, sister? where do i go from here?

she looks at you, grabbing both of your hands, she follows your line of vision and see the way you look at her son, "you just go. you continue love jacaerys the way you always have."

with a nod you go to stand with jace, lacing your arms through his. it was now, that his lips kissed your forehead that you understand what rhaenyra said. you had finally found the right thing, and in your soul you knew,

it was time to go.

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x your #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys angst #jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader #jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys velaryon fluff #got #hold x reader #hotd fanfiction

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 28

Description: It's time for the gala, and you meet two surprising figures there. Pt 29

You smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in your gown, the soft material clinging to you like a second skin, emphasizing your curves perfectly, and giving you one hell of an ego boost.

“Y/N are you almost ready to go?” Miguel calls from your shared bedroom.

You give yourself a final look in the mirror. Makeup? Perfect. Hair? Gorgeous. Outfit? Stunning. You have to hand it to Miguel; he knows your style. You adjust the flower pendant around your neck, then step out of the bathroom, joining Miguel by the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

“Ready.”

He looks at you in the mirror’s reflection, suddenly losing his grip on his tie. “Mi Vida…you look—”

“Like a princess! Mamá looks like a princess.” Gabi says, throwing her body onto you and Miguel’s bed before rolling over onto her stomach and admiring you, her head resting in her hands.

You turn and beam at her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart, you look very pretty too.”

Gabi smiles and jumps up, twirling around in her dress. It’s a sparkly purple dress, the color matching your own, and Miguel’s tie. “What do you think, Papá?”

In an effort to make Alchemax seem more family friendly, they opened the gala up to family members, citing there would be entertainment for any kids that attended if their parents wanted for a break from them.

Miguel finishes tying his tie, then scoops Gabi up. “You look beautiful, mija.”

Gabi smiles and wraps her arms around his neck. “You look very handsome, Papá.”

“Like an emperor?” You suggest, giving Miguel a teasing smile over Gabi’s shoulder.

Miguel’s admitted he has a certain, and elaborate fantasy in which he is a superpowered emperor, and you are a princess that he whisks away and seduces. You haven’t yet given it a try, but even the mere mention of it nearly whips Miguel into a frenzy.

“No, that’s silly, he’s wearing clothes, Mamá.” Gabi giggles.

“Of course, I’m wearing—what?” Miguel’s brows furrow, and he looks to you for clarification.

“Oh, oh, we were talking about that story, The Emperor’s New Clothes, in class today.” You fill Miguel in, both proud of Gabi for remembering details about the story and glad she didn’t ask any other questions about why you referred to Miguel as an emperor.

“It’s a weird story, I like Beauty and the Beast better.” Gabi says, playing with the end of Miguel’s tie.

“It is a little silly, but the moral of the story is what’s important, remember?”

“Yes Mamá.” Gabi says.

“Why don’t we stop talking about people not wearing clothes and head to the party?” Miguel says, shooting you a look.

You smile mischievously at him, then head toward the door. “We’re waiting on you.”

You hold Gabi’s hand as you walk into the massive ballroom where Alchemax is hosting their gala. It’s in a nice hotel, one you’ve certainly never had the money to stay at before.

“It’s so pretty!” Gabi says, her eyes darting around the room as she takes in the finery before her.

“It really is.” You say, taken aback by how absolutely gorgeous the venue is.

“It was better last year, the CEO really slashed Monica’s budget, said she went too overboard last time.” Miguel comments, snagging two glasses of champagne from a nearby waiter.

You take it gratefully. “Well, I think it looks wonderful.”

“Miggy! Gabs! Y/N!” Monica’s voice rings out through the air.

“Speak of the devil.” Miguel jokes, turning to face his half-sister, who is rapidly approaching.

“Auntie Mon!” Gabi cries, rushing forward and throwing her arms around Monica.

“Hey kiddo!” Monica says, smiling down at Gabi. “You excited to see the petting zoo?”

“Yes, yes, yes, are there sheep?” Gabi asks, bouncing up and down on her toes in excitement.

“You bet there are.” Brett, Monica’s husband says, smiling widely, and he bends down to be face to face with Gabi. “You want to come with Uncle Brett and see them? If that’s okay with your dad?” He looks up at Miguel.

“Please Papá, please, I want to see the sheep.” Gabi begs, giving Miguel her best puppy dog eyes.

Your fiancé predictably folds and nods. “Okay, but be careful.”

Gabi promises to be careful and takes Brett’s hand, letting him lead her out the doors and into the garden area.

“Sheep?” Monica asks, raising one eyebrow.

Miguel shakes his head fondly. “I don’t know, they’re her newest obsession right now.”

Monica laughs. “Remember when we were back in school, and you were obsessed with that really specific pen brand? What were they, G-something?”

“Sharpie S-Gel.” Miguel says almost automatically.

A catlike grin spreads across her face. “Like father, like daughter, huh?”

You stifle a giggle, there are dozens of those pens scattered around Miguel’s apartment.

“Monica, darling, are you teasing Miguel?” A voice you don’t recognize asks.

Miguel stiffens slightly, and Monica turns, a playfully annoyed look on her face. “Mom, he’s a grown man, he’ll be fine.”

Standing before you are two women. One, a tall red-haired woman with piercing blue eyes and an elegant air to her, you assume she’s Monica’s mother, and the other a slightly shorter Mexican woman with curly dark hair and warm brown eyes. She’s wearing the same pantsuit as Monica’s mother but in powder blue instead of black.

“Yes, but he’s sensitive.” Monica’s mother says, smiling brightly at Miguel. “Miggy, darling, how are you?”

“I’m doing well, Nancy, and yourself?” Miguel asks, stiffly holding his hand out for her to shake.

“Mijo, don’t be so stiff, hug your Aunt Nancy.” Miguel’s mother says, taking a step forward and lightly swatting him on the arm.

“Oh Connie, please, don’t push the boy, I know he’s not the biggest hugger.” Nancy chides playfully, giving Miguel a quick hug.

You’re torn between freaking out, quietly cussing Miguel out for not telling you his mom was going to be here, or introducing yourself, but luckily Monica makes the choice for you.

“Mom, Aunt Connie, this is Y/N, Miguel’s fiancée.”

Nancy’s perfectly painted lips blossom into a brilliant smile, but Connie’s brow furrows.

“What about Ava?” She asks.

Your stomach drops.

“What about her, Mamá?” Miguel counters calmly.

“She’s Gabriella’s mother, you can’t just replace her like that.”

And now your stomach begins to churn uncomfortably.

“Can we have this discussion in private?” Miguel asks, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

Connie nods, and you look between Miguel and Monica.

“I’ll be right back, cariño, enjoy the party.” He reassures you, before he leads his mother away from the main crowd.

Nancy purses her lips, then pulls out a chair. “Never liked that Ava girl.”

Monica sits as well, motioning for you to do the same. “She’s a bitch.”

You bite your tongue.

Nancy seems to notice and places her hand over yours. “Oh, don’t worry, she’s long gone, ran off with some Californian.”

“Oh, yes, Miguel told me.” You say, praying they’ll believe that’s the real reason you look like you want to vomit.

“Not everyone can make an affair work in their favor, it’s hard work.”

You blink owlishly at her.

“I saw Miguel and Monica in school together, made the connection, went to Connie to ask woman to woman what was going on behind my back. Turns out she had tried to end the affair multiple times, but Tyler wouldn’t let her, until one day she finally gathered her strength and broke it off. Now, Tyler and I were never soulmates, but it hurt to know what he had done, and I wanted revenge.”

Monica grabs her drink and downs it.

“I’ll spare you the boring details but, rest assured, Connie and me and made sure Tyler could never negatively affect our lives ever again.” Nancy finishes, picking up a knife and cutting into the food set before her.

“That’s good…?” You say uncertainly, looking to Monica for help.

Monica just shrugs. “Hey, I didn’t pay for college, or my wedding, I really can’t complain.”

“Needless to say, I keep my husband on a short leash, and I have no patience for cheaters, so Ava was never my favorite.”

“I…yeah, no, she sounds awful.”

Maybe it’s better to keep your mouth shut, technically you were kind of cheating on Todd with Miguel, but it’s different, right? Todd treated you horribly, he didn’t care about you, and you broke up with him before you and Miguel actually ever had sex, hell you didn’t even know it was Miguel until the end.

Besides, Todd would’ve jumped at the chance to get his dick sucked by his favorite female superhero, and wouldn’t have even felt bad about it, at least you felt bad…

Speaking of Miguel, you wonder what’s taking him so long.

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @blakeaha, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars

#meg's writing #miguel’s pastels #miguel o'hara x reader #another gala my Targ Inc besties know what it is #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n

[bucknastysbabe]

Criston cole x alicent daughter reader maybe aemonds sister and it be like when the dinner happens or something idk I just sadly love him

I SADLY LOVE INCEL KNIGHT TOO HE JUST— UGHGNGGNGNGBGNG ANGST

Immaculate - Ser Criston Cole

Ratings: Mature

Tags: Fantasies from Criston (no actual touch), his hateful internal monologue, anxiety attacks, weird pseudo Incest moments w Step daddy Cole, star crossed lovers type beat, Mentions of self-harm. This is just kinda angsty and strange

Criston waited outside the doors after the King was escorted away in a coughing fit, his disease taking over again. He was on guard for the Queen, always, as was his duty as sworn shield. Once the maesters were secured with the wasting king he had returned. Alicent had let royal guards stay on the inside of the room as his appearance may ‘unnerve’ some.

He knew what she meant. The cunt and her bastard seed. It made his chest swell with anger, bitterness, and that residual hurt he would never disclose to another. Just her whore he was. Years hadn’t quelled the ache when the knight thought back on it. So he tried not to.

Instead Criston spent the time attempting to overcome that eternal shame and stain on his once pristine white cloak and take care of the true born Targaryens, strange as they could be. He loved them all in their own way. An unsettled feeling sat in his gut from the ongoing dinner. There had been peace for too long and Viserys wasn’t there to hold up that invisible wall between the two clans.

As predicted, the dinner erupted into chaos. Criston entered from the back as Daemon was glaring down Aemond who simply swaggered off. Otto and Helaena stood awkwardly as the youngest princess watched with wide eyes. Rhaenyra and the rogue prince left immediately. Criston eyed Aegon who ambled back over to finish his cup.

The heir giggled at his sisters, “Wasn’t that grand?”

Otto sniped, “Extremely distasteful, shoving the lad’s head into the table and acting like children.”

Aegon, tongue rendered loose and bitter when he was in his cups began to argue with his grandsire. Criston locked eyes with Alicent, her own brimming with emotion. She ordered, “Take her to bed please.” He nodded dutifully and offered an arm to the second-born daughter, the poor thing grabbing him like a lifeline.

She would get overwhelmed quickly, not a good trait to have for a Targaryen. Alicent mused about sending her to be a Septa for years. Until the matter of the succession loomed ever closer. Septa had upgraded to a political pawn for whoever could offer gold and an army. Although the process had been stagnant. Criston didn’t mind that, much as he couldn’t speak of it, she was his favorite.

“There’s a war coming,” she warbled, doe eyes wide.

“Not yet sweetling, it may come to pass,” he hummed, squeezing her arm with his other hand as they passed through long halls. She shook blonde locks and pressed on, “No, no, I know it, look how we hate one another. That was dreadful. Mother’s going to sell me to a Lannister and make me take Gharion into battle.”

She whimpered at the end of her sentence, steps stumbling a bit. Criston looked down in concern, brows furrowing at his distressed princess. He wasn’t the best with comforting…still he would try. Rubbing her slim arm again he shushed, “Shh, hush now, you’re going to drive yourself up a wall thinking of things that haven’t occurred.”

Arriving at her chambers, he tried to dislodge her tight grip gently. The princess held on with a death grip, lilac eyes feverish as she begged, “Please don’t leave me alone, please Ser Cole.” He frowned, chest flipping and clenching at her cracking voice. The knight knew better, he just needed to get her to bed and leave. Last time he stepped foot in a Targaryen princess’ bedchambers it did not end well.

“I can’t sweetling, I’ll be out and about on patrol, not far away,” he said softly.

More tears leaked from gorgeous eyes. Criston was going to lose his already cracked willpower, he knew that much. “Please, please, I don’t want to be alone,” she wept, beginning to shake. He grimaced at her face going ashen and the tremors becoming worse, breath thinning into heaves. “Oh princess,” he sighed and picked the slip of a thing up.

She was having another fit, something the maesters said was due to ‘a hysterical temperament’. Shaking and crying and sucking in breaths until she received a couple drops of diluted poppy milk. He hated seeing them, made him want to coddle and pet her. Then he’d feel disgusting afterwards, emotions all twisted for the princess about less than half his age. The Seven cursed him for that.

“Where’s the poppy milk,” the brunette asked, laying her down on the impossibly huge bed. She managed to point a shaky finger at the large wardrobe. In two strides Criston opened it up and found the little glass bottle, swirling it around. Coming to perch on the bed he held the dropper out for the Princess, leaving two upon her tongue.

She relaxed soon after, but little hands were back tight in his cloak, twisted up. Criston clenched his jaw, unsure of how to navigate this. The princess asked sleepily, “Ser Criston, you’ll escort me to Casterly Rock right? And stay a bit? What if Lord Lannister is mean and awful to me?”

Criston would gladly rip the idiot’s throat out and present it to court if he put a hand on his sweetling. In the calmest voice possible Cole responded, “Yes I’m sure there will be Kingsguard present, knowing the Queen I’ll be there on watch for a bit.” She sighed softly, seeming more relaxed.

Silence enveloped the pair for a long time, Criston lost in his hateful thoughts. He needed to repent later. Drawing his sick blood would suffice. Shuffling and covers moving sounded from behind. The knight stiffened when she put her chin on his pauldron, hands finding his own. The princess murmured in a slight slur, “I love you Ser Criston. You always take good care of me.”

He wanted to cry but the brunette held her soft hands and hummed, “I love you too dear girl, don’t fret, I’ll protect you as long as I can.” She nuzzled into his dark hair, making no further moves, breathing in his scent. Scenes of stretching her pretty cunt flitted past his mind, her heaving pale body, melodic voice raw from crying his name. Dragging his cock along her innocent folds, the maiden incarnate.

Criston blinked and realized he needed to get out of here, very fast. He rasped to the princess, “I need to get on duty now sweet girl. I’ll be back later I promise.” She looked unhappy, begging a couple more times as Criston laced up and put on his helmet. He shook his head and shrugged her off, heart cracking in his chest.

“Ser please,” she whined, lilac eyes watery and so so achingly pure. Criston shook his head and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She gasped and stared, hands dropping. “You promise you’ll come back?,” she warbled. He nodded resolutely, beginning to shut the door. Criston wanted to beat himself black and blue doing his rounds.

The Seven constantly testing him by sending these abominable Targaryens, so impure yet there she was. He was weak and already failed once, he couldn’t fail again. Criston still came back to her chambers after the hour of the Wolf, exhausted. He sat down in a chair and watched her ethereal face, the moonlight casting a glow on perfect features.

Hatred boiling and churning in his chest Criston began to pull at his lower armor, what she wouldn’t know wouldn’t hurt. He’d take that pain for the girl fifty times over. That’s what Criston was here for anyways. Pain. Tarnish everything that may have once been good on his body.

#hotd fanfic #criston cole x reader #targ princess!reader

[loserholland]

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐀.𝐓

𝐈. 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞

Pairing ➺  Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Targ/Vela/Strong!Reader

Warning ➺ Knvies! Name calling (Bastard, cripple), angst

Word Count ➺ 1.7K

Summary ➺ Her mother was known to be “The Realms Delight”. Soon Rhaeneyra’s daughter would earn that title as well, leaving many suitors waiting in line an a particular uncle waiting as well. 

A/N ➺ (The reader is born before Jace) I need to get this out of my system, I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days. Also because I personally think I can change Aemond & I love him sm (even though he’s a kinslayer). Let’s just forget that for a moment. I’ll most likely write a part two, we shall see

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv @spider-mendes @jessybellsworld @quaksonhehe​ @dummiesshort​

☞  Masterlist  ☜

Rhaenyra and Laenor were blessed with a beautiful babe, a girl. The midwife had told her “She’ll be a beauty like you, your grace.” brushing past the fact that the princess had called her a cunt not too long ago. Her first born child, one of her most difficult labors to say the least, the second the queen got wind of the birth of (Y/N), she requested to see the babe. Rhaenyra thought nothing of the sort at first until it happened to Jacaerys, Lucerys.

Quite a cunt move if you ask me. 

As (Y/N) grew older, her mother noticed a difference between her sons and daughter. Her hair was quite unique, brown with streaks of platinum white. Many hadn’t speculated her relation to her father Ser Laenor. Many had said it’s due to her Baratheon blood from her grandmother’s side of the family, at least that’s what her grandsire had said. 

But, we all know the truth. That beautiful brown and strong personality comes from her father. As she grew older she began to catch the eyes of many, not only did she inherit her mother���s beauty- she also had the Targaryen’s signature violet eyes. I guess that was another reason why no one questioned who her father may be. 

At her 6th name day celebration, Viserys had invited many of the noble houses wanting to introduce his granddaughter to many of the young lords that may take her hand in marriage some day. The hall was filled with light laughter and chatter, many houses came up to the main table to greet the Targaryens. (Y/N) sat between her grandsire and her favorite uncle, Aemond. Though at the time she never addressed him as uncle, they were only about four years apart. 

A few months later however, her Lucerys would take Aemond’s eye in an accident. Such tragedy had happened in the past few months; from losing her Aunt Laena, to the death of Sir Harwin along with his father, to her father Ser Laenor. Her mother had taken refuge on Dragonstone while you had decided to continue your studies at the keep.

After Aemond had lost an eye it caused a rift between the two of you. Especially after he so openly called you and your brothers bastards. 

Most of the time he stayed hidden in his chambers, in the library, or in the courtyard training. When she would walk into any room it would cause Aemond to stop what he was doing and leave. During dinner he’d eat quickly to ask to be excused, Alicent hated that he would want to be kept away, she grew to dislike her step-grandchild but would not say anything.

The older she got, her beauty grew with her. Many lords would whisper of her beauty causing many ladies to envy her. They’d watch as she soared the sky with her dragon Tessarion an exact image of her mother when she was her age.  They were especially taken by her beautiful hair, no maiden in all of Westeros had two different colors of hair.

Her uncle took notice of how many lords would fawn over her and ask for her hand to dance. Snickering to himself when she would politely decline them, watching as they would sulk their way back to their seat. He knew of her early morning adventures, training in the courtyard at the crack of dawn before going on a flight blue dragon. He’d admire her from afar, a small grudge still held against her and her family.

She too noticed how much he had grown, no longer the scared little boy whom he brothers and Ageon would play tricks on, no longer the young boy who would sulk when it came to training with Ser Criston, no longer the boy she had fond memories with. 

He became a man.

A beautiful handsome young man, towering over many who stood before him. Her included. His hair was long, almost as long as hers, easy to spot in a crowded room. His stature and demeanor, strong and cold. He trained for days in and days out, studying for hours.  

The many chances she would try to talk to him, he’d keep it short, only humming or grunting in response. She would be lying if she said it didn’t hurt her, she tried to make amends, apologize for her brother’s actions. 

(Y/N) bored of taking part in her 18th name day celebration she slipped out of the great hall making her way to one of her favorite places in the castle. Walking into the library to grab a new book to read, usually it would be about her family history. The tales of her great-great-great-great grandparents never failed to amaze her.

Turning the corner a bit too quickly, not minding her surroundings, she ran into someone falling back slightly shutting your eyes tightly to avoid the embarrassment. The arm of the stranger wrapped around her waist, she sucked in a breath before slowly re-opening her eyes.

Aemond

Quickly she stood up straight “I’m sorry.” Oh gods fuck me, fuck me! Something you never had was your mother’s gracefulness. Also a bit clumsy, stumbling over your own foot. The way he looked down at you said many without him saying a word himself, gods you hated how your relationship had become.

“A thank you would suffice, excuse me.” before you could even thank him, he brushes past you. Your heart swells lightly, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what to do, unsure if you’ll regret this action later.

Fuck it.

Reaching forward you wrapped your hand around his wrist “Wait!” he pauses for a moment not tugging his wrist away. Just get it out, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s been so long since you’ve had a proper conversation with him.

“It mustn't be this way Ameond. Please, we were so close once.I miss talking to you, don’t you rem-“

He turned around in a flash, his wrist pulled away, his eye filled with fire “Mustn't be this way? Have you forgotten of what your bastard brother did to me?”

Anger coarsed your veins, you knew what the people of Westeros say. What they spin about your family specifically your mother and siblings. But it never bothered you because even if Ser Laenor wasn’t your father he still loved you all as though you were his own. It never mattered to you yet, it was such a sin to many.

“Don’t you dare call him a bas-“

He saw the moment to ignite that fire in you, he knew what he would say will hurt but he wants you to feel the pain he’s felt in the last few years. He’d be lying if he said he never watched you from afar, that he doesn’t miss your adventures together.

“It’s what you are though isn’t it? You just inherited your whore of a mother’s looks”

A loud smack echoed the room, if his mother found out about this she’d have your hands for this. But you didn’t care, no one slanders your family name. You’d have any man or ladies tongue cut for even speaking such slander, you knew your grandsire would too.

“How dare-“

“No, how dare you! Coming in here and telling me it mustn't be this way. Have you already forgotten what happened not too long ago? Don’t you hear what people whisper about me?!”

Many of the lords and ladies would point and whisper at Aemond with no self-respect whatsoever, gossiping about how he had one eye and wondered what took place of his eye underneath that brown leather patch. 

It twisted at her heart slightly, guilt sat at the bottom of her stomach. She would attempt to defend not only her brother’s action towards her uncle but she would try to defend him as well, telling many that she’d have their tongue if they spoke about the prince again.

“The one eyed prince who no one will bed. Of what his poor wife must endure, what lady would marry a cripple? Must I remind you, dear niece?”

Harshly he removed his eye patch, your breath catching in your throat. A beautiful sapphire in place of his eye, you wanted to touch it yet felt so frozen. You wanted to raise your hand to trace the scar that was left, he looked beautiful no, he looked like a god. 

 Aemond hummed at your lack of response, “I could make it even. No- I should make it even. Take your beauty away-” Your eyes widened at the words that just left his mouth, frozen yet again just as you were frozen that night at Driftmark. Frozen as you watched blood drip onto the dirt as Aemond’s screams echoed in the cave. 

“What is it that the people call you? Besides bastard? What is it that they call you as you parade around the keep?”

The New Delight.

Just as her mother was named “The Realm's Delight.” Many had said how she had taken after her mother, always making people smile and fawn over. She never asked for the attention, truly. She was just taught to be respectful and kind to everyone, though some ladies would say she was being a whore.

“Ah yes-” he retrieved his dagger from his side, bringing it between the two of you watching as your push yourself back till your back made contact with the bookshelf. Your heart hammered in your chest, beating loudly in your ears. He wouldn’t, would he? He had all these years, he wouldn’t dare.

 “The New Delight was it? Hm- would be quite a shame if i just-“

You shut your eyes tightly the feeling of a sharp dagger dragged against your side. Tracing your skin, not deep enough to draw blood, but enough to let you know how you’re at his mercy, defenseless. His mother had asked that night for your brother’s eye but your grandsire quickly defended your mother and family, asking his wife to drop the matter. 

Forever leaving a bitter taste in his wife’s mouth.

“Go on. Take it, make it a gift to your mother.” you exhaled clutching onto your dress. The queen would be pleased and would final drop the grudge against your family. 

Especially pleased that it was your eye that was taken.

Aemond was taken aback, he expected her to weep and beg. He expected for her to push him away and run. Silently retreating the library and you, “Go on- Take-”

She opened her eyes to see no one standing in front of her, she felt her eyes swell with tears letting out a silent sob as slid down the bookcase. Little did she know Aemond stood outside the door listening to her sob. 

He felt his heart swell in sadness? Guilt? Before he could let it consume him, he walked away to his chambers.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x targ!reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #house of the dragon #hotd

[francy-sketches]

Still haven’t seen a single person explain why making alicent more sympathetic is bad beyond “well it was different in the book and book good tv bad always no exception” What’s so compelling about a one dimensional evil stepmother character that makes you throw a tantrum when she’s changed to have depth lol

#.txt #hotd #and don’t hit me with the ‘they’re misrepresenting the true characters!1!1!!1!!!’ bc these are not real people lol #who gives a shit about ‘misrepresentation’ #I need y’all to understand book accuracy isn’t inherently the best option #are you just upset you look deranged when you call this teenager a scheming hag. be honest #targ stans on twitter test my patience everyday #saw one of them getting thrashed for their shit take and then cry about it like ‘noo stop explaining f&b to me I’ve read it more than you’ #you must be a pretty shit reader then if you didn’t catch the whole ‘biased accounts’ thing #’the show is only good if you haven’t read f&b’ false lol I’ve seen plenty of people who’ve read it and still enjoy the show #it’s so weird to me holding up f&b as this perfect bible that must not be contradicted #when the majority opinion I’ve seen it’s that it’s pretty mediocre #imagine being this toxic over a fake history book lol

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Flesh and Blood

Part 2: The Melee

Pairing: Prince Aemon the Dragonknight x Fem. Reader (Northerner /House Stark | Third Person POV)

Themes: Angst

Warnings: Mentions of emotional neglect | References to canon Targcestuous marriages (Daena and Baelor) | The supposed “relationship” between Aemon and Naerys | Weapons use | Mentions of blood and injuries 

Word count: 3.1K

Summary: On the day of the melee, Aemon finds counsel pertaining to the matter of his marraige.

Rules and tag form can be found here.

Reference to the melee: here |  Part 1 here | Painting: The Melee, Eglinton Tournament, Irvine, Ayrshire, by James Henry Nixon.

Aemon had not been able to sleep during the night. His body—bruised and throbbing all over—was as stiff as a board. The final joust had been between him and Ser Jasper of Tumbleton. The knight gave as good as he got, nearly unhorsing Aemon and claiming the final match. Aemon then nearly unhorsed him on the next turn, and the knight barely held on to his saddle. Their horses tore up the earth, red, black, and silver silks swirling around their saddles as riders raced toward each other. Lances splintered when they met in the middle, but the outcome was always the same. The men were evenly matched. It came down to a draw, and the queen decided to give both men the victory.

Ser Jasper wanted to let Aemon claim the win as he was a prince of the realm, but Aemon would not hear of it. He insisted they share the spoils. Ser Jasper was pleased. Aemon, on the other hand, felt empty and found no joy in the victory. He did not hear the loud cheers and applause that followed the queen's verdict. He did not see the flowers being thrown onto the field or the trinkets tossed down by well-wishers. All Aemon could see was an empty seat. All he could hear were his lady wife's accusations. She had accused him of neglecting her and keeping Naerys as a mistress. She believed he did not want her and that he found her unclean. 

Naerys was never his mistress; that much was true. She was only his sister and nothing more than that. Spending time with her was a habit, one that was born after their mother left, and they had to depend on each other for guidance and comfort. There was nothing untoward, nothing that could disgrace either of them. 

Perhaps, that was not what others saw, Aemon conceded. Maybe they saw something else—something that was never there. 

He stared at the ceiling and sighed. A wave of regret rose from his thoughts. He spent too much time with Naerys. The chief of his day was spent with her, sparring, praying... and spending very little time with his wife. Aemon was ashamed to admit that he could not even remember the last time he broke fast with his wife. Y/n was more or less left to fend for herself while he carried on as if nothing had changed. When he came to her at night, it was so he could do his duty and leave once he was done. That was what he was told by his father. He was to do his duty and produce an heir, nothing more than that. Aemon was to produce an heir, in the event Baelor died childless and a council was called to decide the successor. Few would want a queen, his father had said, and fewer would want his older brother on the throne. The High Septon assured him that duty was all that was mattered in a marraige, and that his wife would be content with it.

It was not enough for his wife. She was not content with just duty. She had asked for more. She wanted more warmth and desire, and he denied her. He told her that it would only lead to lust and sin. That was what he was taught and what he believed in. He insisted she must never ask such a thing of him again. He remembered the way he looked at her. It was cold and full of judgment. He remembered the look in her eyes when he said it. She was devastated.  

Haunted by remorse, he rose out of bed and called for his squire. Dawn was approaching, and Aemon needed to bathe and cleanse himself before going to the palace Sept. He needed to pray and ask the Crone for guidance to find a way to mend the shambles that were his marriage. 

Sunlight poured through stained glass windows when Aemon walked out of his chambers, garbed in simple robes. Since he had acquired a wife and household, his father deemed it necessary for him to have larger accommodations. He gave him the keys to the tower facing the Godswood on one side and the sea on the other. All that was heard here were the sounds of birds, waves hammering against the cliffs, and leaves rustling in the wind. The rooms were tastefully decorated. All in all, it suited Aemon perfectly. 

The winding stairway led him past one room after another until he came to y/n's bedchamber. Having never seen it in the light of day, Aemon opened the door and stepped inside. 

There was a beautiful tapestry on one wall. The scene depicted a young girl riding an ice dragon, one that was said to live in the White Waste and the Shivering Sea. Aemon shivered. Y/n's bedroom was cold and strangely empty now that she had fled to the Cerwyn manse. A carriage came late the night before with servants and a trunk. Y/n would be staying with her kin for a while. A letter she had sent through a maid said little else. He eyed her bed and the pretty coverlets she had brought when she traveled to Kings Landing and felt a sharp pang of guilt. Y/n must have come into the marriage with so much hope, only to have them crushed. The feeling kept gnawing at him while he made his way to the Sept.  

It was empty, but candles were alight. Baelor had been here already. Cleansing himself, no doubt, after spending the night with the queen. It was something Aemon himself did after his wedding. At night, he would do his duty. In the morning, he would come to the Sept to pray and cleanse himself. 

Is it wrong? He thought to himself. Would it wound y/n if she found out?

Aemon shook his head and took several deep breaths to calm his mind. He picked up a candle. Someone opened the door, and a warm gust of wind blew in. Flames flickered and danced, throwing strange shadows over the walls. 

"My pardons, my lord." A Maester, old but still full of life, stood by the doorway. "Do you wish to be left alone?" 

Aemon studied him. He had not met this Maester before. "I do not mind, Maester..."

"Barth, if it please you." Maester Barth stepped into the cool marble interior of the Sept and shut the door behind him. "I came to meet the Grand Maester and was asked to wait."

"Did you come to pray, Maester Barth?" Aemon walked over to the marble sculpture of a wizened woman. Her eyes had been carved in such a way that they gave the appearance of someone who had seen a great many things in her long life and had much counsel to give.

"I confess I did not." Barth went over to a likeness of the Warrior to admire it. "I just came to while away my time until the Grand Maester was ready to receive me."

Aemon nodded and went about his task. He lit the candle and set it by the likeness of the Crone. He closed his eyes and tried to pray. He failed miserably. His mind was a roil; it was too troubled by the memories that came unbidden. The memory of his wife walking away after having endured more than she could, her stricken eyes when he caught up with her, her tears. Aemon sighed. He opened his eyes and turned to the Maester, recognizing the black ribbon tied to one link on the Maester's chain. Barth was a widower who had joined the order much later in life. Aemon went to him, wondering if he would help him. 

"Maester Barth," he said, "can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Barth fussed over his robes and lowered himself onto a bench. "How may I help you, Prince Aemon?"

Aemon began with, "I assume you know what happened yesterday?"

"Oh aye," Barth said, moving to the other end to make room for the prince. "I was there, watching like all the rest. And I heard the talk. Fret not, my lord. People will forget once a new scandal presents itself. It will happen soon enough in a city as big as this."

"The people will forget," Aemon agreed, and joined him. "But I fear my lady will not."

"Is she here?"

"No. My wife left to stay with her kin."

"I see." Barth stroked his gray beard and pondered. "If it would not offend, may I ask if there is any truth to the talk? Is there something untoward between you and Princess Naerys?"

Aemon had been expecting this question and was prepared. "There is none. Naerys and I..." he glanced at the floor. "For that, I have to start from the beginning." 

Barth nodded. "Go on, my lord."

"I was three when my mother left for Lys," Aemon said, his eyes growing wet with tears. He had lost count of the times he had asked his father about his mother. And he had lost count of the times his father refused to answer. "Aegon was four. Naerys was a babe still in the cradle. Father changed after that. Before my mother left, he was always ready for a laugh, always willing to indulge us. Then he changed. Father grew cold and distant. We were left to our Maesters and Septas. We received little affection from our father. It was as if all that was loving in him vanished when my mother left. In time, Aegon turned to wine and women for comfort. Naerys and I turned to the Faith and each other... which I now realize may not have been all that healthy, or even wise."

"True," Barth said, "but given the circumstances, it is understandable. Does your wife know this?"

"I confess she does not," Aemon said. "And I am not sure she will believe me if I told her. Not now. Not after what happened."

"Try. That is all you can do." Barth sat up straight, his chain clinking as he did so. "Perhaps send the lady a letter. Ask for her forgiveness. Ask what she wants of you, of this marriage."

Asking for forgiveness was easy. But the rest... "I know what my wife wants. Warmth and affection, and to feel desired. I do not know if I can do it."

Barth studied him. "May I ask why?" 

"Because warmth and desire lead to lust and sin. That was what I was taught." Aemon repeated the words, but he was starting to doubt them. "We are to tend to spiritual matters instead of turning our eyes to matters of the flesh."

"My lord," Barth said gently, "if the Gods wished us to only turn our eyes to matters of the spirit, they would not have made for us bodies of flesh and blood. Besides, the lady is your lawful wife. What harm can come from indulging her a little?" 

Aemon admitted—albeit reluctantly—that there was some truth to the Maester's words. Y/n was his lawful wife. They pledged oaths in the presence of the Seven and men. He placed her under his cloak of protection. Perhaps the Maester was right. There was no harm in showing more and doing more. Still, he had his doubts, his questions. "I was told marriage required only duty and fidelity, nothing more."

"Duty and fidelity are important," Barth allowed, his eyes growing misty as if he was reminiscing. "But if a marriage is to last, it will need more than duty and fidelity. I speak from experience. Besides, few women will take kindly to a cold bed and a loveless marriage." A nearby bell chimed the hour. The Maester stood up and straightened his robes. His stomach was rumbling. Even Aemon heard it. "Walk this old man to the kitchens, my lord. We can talk more about your matter over a meal."

Several hours later, Aemon rode from the Red Keep, heading straight to the tourney grounds. His talk with Maester Barth was illuminating and gave him much to think about. Some of it left him blushing a vivid crimson. Aemon knew little when it came to matters of the marriage bed; that was plain to him now. Atop his courser, he glanced at the shields outside silk tents while he rode past them. A golden rose upon a green field, a golden lion against a background of red, the archer, a cluster of grapes, a leaping silver trout, the sun and spear. There were more, so many more. Aemon could not name them all. He took a deep breath. The air was rich with the scents of ale and mead and meat roasting over braziers.

"Is the queen here?" he asked when a page came to take the reins of his horse. 

"Not yet, my lord," the lad said. "But we expect her soon."

Aemon dismounted. A gaurdsman offered him skewers of roasted mutton and potatoes. Out of courtesy, Aemon helped himself to one, talking to some of the others that had gathered before walking to the royal box. Most of the court was already here, awaiting the start of the melee. He smiled at several lords and ladies before taking a seat. Naerys was not here this morn. A full day in the hot sun made her ill. She had to stay back at the Red Keep. Y/n was here, seated at the far end of the box. She was talking to an older, intimidating-looking noblewoman and did her best to ignore Aemon. Remorse welled to the surface again. Y/n was clearly distressed by being here. It was plain to anyone who saw it. The lady next to her seemed to keep her distracted, often asking questions. Aemon looked around and found Lord Commander Hardyng standing nearby. He called him over. "Who is that lady?"

Commander Hardyng allowed himself a few whimpers and crouched down. He lowered his voice so no one would overhear. "That is Lady Cerwyn, my lord. The others next to your wife are her children. They only came here to support Ser Uther." He excused himself when his squire came in search of him. Aemon turned towards Lady Cerwyn again. She was as tall as many of the lords present and carried herself with pride. She was dressed the same as y/n, in a pink gown gathered to a choker that sat around her throat, leaving her arms and shoulders exposed. Crimson drops had been embroidered along the hem of her skirt. Her headdress mimicked the colors of her dress. A bronze medallion belt with a flayed man etched onto each disk looped around her waist.

She is a Bolton, he realized with a start. She must be a sister to y/n's mother.

Lady Cerwyn turned as if she heard his thoughts. Her gaze was as cold as ice; her eyes were pale gray and frightening. The lady may have been a Cerwyn by marriage, but she was a Bolton through and through. Aemon smiled at her, and she nodded curtly in return. The Master of Revels came forward to announce the arrival of the queen. They all rose as one. Daena was accompanied by Lord Commander Hardyng, with her sisters following her. Today she was dressed in silks of black and red. Gold glittered around her throat and her wrists. She seemed to be happy, the anger in her eyes had cooled a little. After she sat down, the rest followed, and the melee commenced. 

When the trumpets sounded, dozens of horses charged into the field. It was a frenzy of dust, silk, and armor, of splintering lances and the clash of tourney swords. Someone swung a blunted war hammer. The blunted weapons meant nothing. There were few rules; more than one knight would not survive to see the end of the day. More than once, the people shouted or cried when a knight fell and had to roll out of the way of a rearing horse. There was nothing but violence. Bones shattered and blood spilled onto the soil. Squires had to rush to the middle to drag a knight too wounded to stand. 

Aemon glanced over at his wife. Y/n was watching the fighting. There was worry in her eyes, but she kept her composure. The same could have been said for her kin. The only time he saw any reaction was towards the end, when Uther and a knight of the King's Guard were the last two standing. Both men had dismounted and fought on foot. 

They hammered and slashed at each other. Neither man was willing to yield to the other. Ser Addam Storm was the better swordsman. Uther had the upper hand with his war hammer. They fought tirelessly and ruthlessly, with Uther ducking to avoid Addam's sword and Addam diving to avoid Uther's war hammer. Y/n and her cousins rushed to the balcony when Uther delivered a decisive blow. They shouted encouragement in the old tongue, spurring Uther to hammer Addam to the ground.

"I yield! I yield!" Addam cried and threw away his sword. He lifted his arms in surrender. "I yield!"

Uther dropped his war hammer and lifted the visor of his helm, revealing a bruised face. The cheers were deafening, and he lapped it all up like an eager puppy.

"There will be no living with that boy after this." Lady Cerwyn said fondly and smiled. She applauded like all the rest, then rose and walked to the balcony. Uther had picked up a trinket thrown to him and tossed it up for his mother to catch. Exhausted, he bowed and took his leave of them all. Lady Cerwyn called her family to her. It was time they took their leave as well. 

Aemon followed them out, keeping a respectful distance whenever y/n stopped to introduce her aunt to a curious member of the court. He was behind them until they had reached their carriage. Uther was already inside, holding a clean cloth to his face. His sisters were fussing over him.

"My lady," Aemon cried to Lady Cerwyn while y/n hurried inside. He had a piece of parchment in his hand. "My lady, can you give this to my wife?"

Lady Cerwyn stopped and eyed him with distaste. "A letter?" she said, glancing at the rolled and sealed parchment in his outstretched hand. "Pray what does it contain?"

"An explanation," Aemon said, peeking inside. Y/n was seated by the window on the other side. She had been applying salve to her cousin's bruises. "That is all. Please give this to my wife. I ask for nothing else."

One of Lady Cerwyn's younger sons stuck his head out the window and glared at Aemon. "Not a word from you, Ned," she said sharply, doing a double take. "Or you, Lyanna," she told one of her daughters. 

"But Mama..." Ned whined. Lyanna grumbled and sat back down. 

"Not a word. I mean it." Lady Cerwyn gave her son a look that brooked no refusal. Ned muttered under his breath but did as his mother commanded. She turned back to Aemon. "An explanation, you say. Is that all?"

"There is more. This letter contains an apology," Aemon replied, still hopeful. The letter was not his finest, he had written it before he left the Red Keep. Aemon still hoped the words were heartfelt. "And a plea for forgiveness. I...I realize I have a great deal to atone for."

Lady Cerwyn studied him and considered his request. "I will give my niece your letter," she finally said, accepting the parchment. "But I will not make any promises."

"I understand," Aemon said gratefully as he helped her into the carriage. "Thank you." 

#aemon the dragonknight #aemon the dragonknight x reader #x reader #angst #a world of ice and fire #asoiaf #hotd #aemon the dragonknight imagine #tw: metions of targ marraige #tw: some violence

[zephyrrr101]

Let me help you

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x sister reader

Warning: Targcest/incest (that's the hype about Hotd loves), fingering, consensual everything basically, dirty talking, all the ASOIAF warnings, slight Dom Daemon, MINORS DNI.

Lots of thanks to @officialaemondtargaryen for being my beta for this one. Love you lots hon.

The day had been very tiring. You had lesson with your Septa continuously. And the woman had seemed to swore that she would not leave you alone until you have finished sewing your house sigil into the tapestry you were supposed to do for your grandsire, King Jaehaeyrs', soon approaching name day.

Your feet felt frozen with the long sitting, so did your back. Your hands ached before but now everything felt numb. Shaking them, as you tried to remove the numb feeling that seemed to have spread up to your elbows. You couldn't help but curse her as you got into your chamber after asking your sworn sheild for your maids to be called.

"Tried?"

A shriek left your mouth and you turned around to see your older brother, Daemon lazily lying on your bed with an amused smile.

"Fuck you, Daemon!" You sighed, leaning over the now closed door with your hand over your chest that reached there out of fright. You loved your brothers, you did, but Daemon was just as much of little shit as much he was charmer.

"Well, if you insist..." He drawled and you grabbed the closest thing to you and threw it at him, very obviously not hitting the target as the very expensive brass vase had landed on your pillow a good one hand away from your brother's head. Did you care? No.

"I'm already tired, Dae. And annoyed. So if you're here to rile me up, I suggest get the fuck out," You moved around the room, making your way over to other side of bed and laying down on your stomach very ungracefully, pushing the vase down on floor.

You think Daemon understood that you were quite serious. Well, he better have or else you were going to hit him perfectly on his perfect annoying face.

You felt his hand caressing your hair, the hair of same color that you shared with him. It brought you comfort as his fingers moved from the crown of your head to base, his fingers, just the right pressure, oh your brother could also be just as sweet as infuriating he was when you needed him to be.

"What happened?" He whispered and he turned you over and laid beside you. Now you were facing him, you could see a frown on his beautiful face. Along with your hair, you shared your nose with him, longer than that of Viserys'. And your cheekbones too. The same cheekbones that he was now caressing.

"My Septa had me doing needlework all day." You told. Daemon snorted at it and he received a poke in ribs for that whe you continued your complaining. "Do not laugh. My hands are numb from working on that tapestry. My legs and back feel just as useless."

"Is my haedar so much in pain?" He mused, sporting a smirk, but his words were genuine. You knew. Always.

Daemon was a mystery to most. You had seen girls gush at him, your maids-in-waiting were just mad about him. When you looked at him you saw nothing but your brother. A brother you loved and hated? No. No. You didn't hate him. He was more of like... A leech? Yes, a leech you did everything to squeeze the life out of you. But he did you just as much. Maybe more than anyone did. Just you did.

Daemon sat up leading you to frown at his action. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," he smiled at you and shifted over to the end of the bed, taking your feet in his hands. "Let me help you." His slightly calloused hands pressed into your tender flesh, rubbing and squeezing and your eyes closed at the relief you felt as you let out pleased sighs. His hands moved up first to your ankles, rolling them as easily he could, then to calves, massaging your muscles tenderly, then around the knees and then above them with soft circular motions and then—

"Daemon," one of your eyes opened as your look at him sternly.

Daemon grinned, nothing just concern seemed to be there anymore. His fingers now made there way up to your inner thighs, his movements alternating between hard and soft and with each movement he seemed to move more closer to the apex of your legs.

"What are you doing, lekia?" You retorted, knowing where it was leading to.

"Being a good brother and helping my sister relax, of course," he leaned down, slowly coming up, and hovered over you, his face just above yours, you could easily smell Caraxes on him along with the leather vest that he wore most of the time and the sweet fragrance of Arbor Gold that was both of yours favourite.

"We can't, Daemon. Not now. I've called my maids." You tried to push him off you. As much as you loved Daemon doing all the other worldly things to you, getting caught was not something you could afford. Daemon did not budge. He simply dipped down, his lips meeting yours and you easily melted into him.

"Send them away. Who cares?" It wasn't that hard for you to be convinced when he was making such good effort.

One of your hands pulled at the hair, pulling him more into you as the other found it's way inside Daemon's tunic as you traced his skin. You loved the way his body felt on your skin. Each muscle strong, you could even trace some small scars that he received while training or in duels. Everything that made your brother beautiful.

His mouth left wet kisses down your jaw, his teeth nipping at soft skin of your neck and you gasp when he sucked on your skin. He was going to leave a mark. He was doing it deliberately. This bastard! You could feel your small cloth getting wet. Oh, he did it again. Biting that spot on your neck. You loved it when he did it.

Your hands moved down his chest, you caress every inch of his you could with the tunic that still was attached to him and moved down and down and down, reaching the lace of his breeches.

Daemon grabbed your hands, and pulled them up, keeping them prisoner above your head. "Daemon, what—"

"Hush, sweet sister," he spoke, and left a kiss on your lips. "Let me take care of you." He unlaced the top of your dress, the sleeves coming down swiftly and he suckled on the tits softly. His fingers found their way to your small cloth, unlacing the barrier that was between him and the sweet nether. "My, did I do that you, haedar?"

"Daemon," you gasp, his fingers moving through your lower lips, his thumb ghosting over you pearl, a shriek followed the gasp when you felt him flicking on it. "Fuck,"

His chuckle echoed in the otherwise silent room where just your breaths could be heard. He bent and you felt it, his tongue slowly moving along the rises and lows of your cunt. He nibbled at the skin around your clit, sucking it and you moan.

His fingers caresses you and he slowly entered one digit inside you making you gasp.

Daemon rose, his fingers still in you, you could see your arousal coating his lips, his pink lips that shined under the candle light around your room. "I haven't even started and you're clenching like that?"

You moan out his name as he moves his fingers inside you, going back to sucking your pearl, lapping on your arousal. "Hmm, haedar, you taste like nectar of gods." He spoke while licking your juices and he added another finger inside you. Grabbing the sheets around you bit your lip to not make too much of a louder noise. Your sworn shield stood outside. If he heard anything, you would be sent to silent sister's just like your aunt Saera and you were sure that you won't be able to run away like her.

You undid the laces in thr front of your dress, loosening it around your chest, your mounds slipping out and you caress the skin, circling your fingers on your pebbles, pulling them and a moan left your mouth at the pleasure flooding through you from them and Daemon's fingers in you.

Daemon looked up and scowled at the sight of your fingers on your nipples. He smacked your hand with his other one, his fingers in you pausing and tugged at your pink tit.

You squealed in pain and glared at Daemon as he pulled back his fingers before adding another one. "Don't touch yourself," He gave you a stern look. "Good princess don't do such things. They let their elder brother take care of them."

You moaned as he thrusted his fingers inside you deeper, you could feel his rings in you, he was so deep. The other hand now playing with your mounds pulling, pinching caressing. "That feels good? Hmm? You are clenching on my fingers, sweet girl."

"Please, Daemon," You moaned, your hands finding his shoulders and you grabbed it hard, Daemon felt your nails biting his skin, his breeches becoming tighter with each moment. "Need you, Daemon."

"Need me? How so?" He grinned and he curled his fingers inside you, before pulling them back and pushing in again this time deeper and then again more deeper as if trying to find how far he could go just with his hand.

"Your mouth." You suck in a deep breath, "on me,"

"On you? Where? There's a lot a of places on you."

You would have thrown something at him again if he hadn't pressed his thumb on your clit making you almost scream. "My cunt! My cunt, damn it Daemon! Just fucking—"

You covered your mouth as soon as you could. You hadn't even been able to see when Daemon hand went back to sucking your pearl and lips. Your abdomen clenched, you were near your peak. And Daemon apparently knew that too since he had increased his pace.

"Princess!" Your maid's voice sounded muffled through the closed door. Or maybe it was the haze you were in. "Princess, we've come with your bath water,"

You glanced at Daemon between your legs and found him looking up at you with a devilish look in his eyes while he sucked and lapped on you like a hound who hadn't been fed in days and you felt yourself clench. Oh that infuriating bastard was enjoying it.

"Princess?" You maid called out again, her voice now sounding concerned.

"A minute!" You yelled and gasped. You couldn't see what Daemon was doing, but it felt like a blessing from Gods.

Your head was thrown back in your pillow and you felt your eyes rolling back as you reached your peak, your hand on your mouth, muffling all the moans it could as you came down from your high.

Daemon rose, still sitting between your legs, both you panting heavily. His lips glistening with your juices, he was grinning. And so were you. Daemon moved, coming to hover over you, he dropped and your lips met his, you tasted yourself on him and after a moment he pulled away, a fond look in his lilac eyes.

"What about you?" You asked, pointing at his cock, straining inside his breeches. You were tempted to loosen the laces and take him, but you knew that time was not on your side.

"I'll handle it. Maybe I'll visit Silk Street," he shrugged.

You sat up on your bed as he got off the bed, you glanced between him and the door where your maids stood outside, "Where are you going to hide?"

Daemon gave you a confused look, "Why must I hide? I am going to my room." You were even more confused as he started to walk behind your bed.

"Daemon the maids outside—" Him pushing a part of wall behind you had you stop talking. Well, it actually moving had you shut up. "What in the seven hell? Daemon?"

Your brother smirked at you as he entered what you now understood were the secret tunnels Maegor had built in the Keep. He had known about them. That fucker!

"You little cunt! Fucking—"

"Good bye, sister. Enjoy your bath. Your maids' are waiting." And he quicked his way inside the tunnel, closing the part of wall leaving the room as he wasn't even here.

Damn, your brother. You loved him so much.

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #hotd #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #targ reader #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #sister reader #daemon targareyn smut

[fairysluna]

a dragon's fury.

Once you found out that your beloved husband was wounded in battle, the dragon within you comes to light, and you're eager to help him during these war times.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.

TAGS/TW – fluff, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, winterfell is at war with the wildlings, the greens won, dilf!cregan, cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of blood and wounds. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE – this is the 4th part of my Cregan x Targ!Reader stories, but it can be read as a standalone too. People have ask for it and I'm here to provide.🤗🤍

WORD COUNT – 2.7k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

"Lord Stark has been wounded in battle."

Your eyes immediately left your son’s shape and reached the guard in front of you. Your softened haze soon turned into one filled with worry and fear, rage even. You carefully removed Lysara from your arms and stood up from the fur carpet beneath you. With your now shaky hands you fixed your thick dress before sighing deeply, trying not to raise any alarm to Rickon, who was already old enough to understand what those words could possibly mean.

“Where is he?” You asked. Your usual sweet and charming tone was now replaced by the hardness, stern words which demanded an immediate answer.

“He's in his bedchambers being attended by the Maesters,” the guard informed, to which you only managed to nod.

“How bad is it?” Those words came out as a whisper as you grabbed his arm and started to walk away from the children, so they would not hear.

“Lord Stark is conscious, though some of his wounds are quite deep according to what the Maesters had said,” He replied with the same low tone as you, noticing your intentions.

Your hand went to your belly, trying to find some comfort in it before you realized it was now empty. Your sweet boy had been born just a few weeks ago; Elion Stark. A beautiful babe that was now sleeping in the crib, right next to a white dragon egg, a gift from your brother King Aegon. You looked at the crib where your son was peacefully resting, and after you made sure he was alright you wiped the sweat of your hands on the fabric of your dress. Before you could even notice it, your legs were taking you out of the nursery room and towards your husband’s chambers.

Each step made your heart beat faster, the overwhelming sound of it making your ears buzz and your breathing to tremble. Your loyal guard was walking behind you, following your quick steps with his hand on the hilt of his sword, his guard up just in case you would find some intruders in your way. The war with the free folk had left Winterfell as a target for your foes, leaving you and your children exposed to the danger and risks that this war entails.

You have learnt how to live without fear after being raised with a dragon by your side, you also knew that your children, including Rickon, will be shielded by the same beast that brought you comfort and protection when you were their age… but Cregan was another story. The stubborn man would reject that much needed protection, leaving him exposed to any risk that may come his way; and as consequence, you would spend your days sitting in the nursery room with your babes, praying to Seven for the well being of your beloved husband.

But you decided it was enough once you crossed the wooden door that separated the halls with the chamber that you shared with Cregan, and saw how the maids and Maesters were running from one side of the room to another while your harmed husband was staining the white sheets of the bed with his crimson blood. Your eyes shifted with the purest of terror at the scene, and your nose started to itch as a sign of the upcoming tears that were threatening to escape your eyes. You stood there, right in the door frame, looking horrified at the scene in front of you and holding the handle of the door with such a strength that your knuckles turned white.

Your lower lip quivered as you slowly stepped inside the room, your hand pressing against your chest, which was moving rapidly and unsteadily. A maid was the one who first noticed your presence and bowed before you, staring at you with frightened eyes. You came to wonder which expression was the one on your face for her to have such a reaction.

The silence ruled over the room once they noticed your presence. They all bowed and stepped back, leaving you a path to follow towards your husband's bed. You managed to see his bare chest covered in bruises, a deep cut in his left arm and his gorgeous face swollen with violet stains and cuts that were still dripping blood. His left eye was now red, the gray color you so dearly loved was now replaced by the crimson tint that you so deeply hated to see on him.

Cregan saw you, and he took a deep breath that seemed to have hurt, for his expression furrowed with the signs of the immense pain he was suffering. Your eyes were clouded by tears, your heart aching at the sight. It was unbearable.

"My love," you whispered softly as you walked closely. "Who- who did-" you were unable to keep talking, for your voice broke in mid sentence as your soft hands fell gently on his chest. You felt his hand covering yours, he squeezed it three times and you lifted your face to see his. A little smile appeared on his face, as if he was trying to make you know that he was fine; but you were not blind, he was obviously not fine at all. "Who. did. this?" You spoke again, this time swallowing your sobs and using a more demanding tone.

"My princess," he weakly muttered, "no need to worry, I'm fine-"

"Cregan, I am not playing right now. Who did this?"

His eyes squinted with the unusual pronunciation of his name from your lips. You used to save it for two different occasions; for those which were filled with lust, or for those in which your inner dragon was about to spit fire. "My love-" he tried to excuse himself again.

"Who did this?" You insisted, starting to feel the worry leaving you and being replaced with anger. "Tell me the truth."

He looked around the room, observing the servants and Maester eavesdropping the conversation without trying to hide it at all. You pressed your lips with discontent as you noticed this, and you quickly stood up straight. "Out," you demanded of them, but no one moved. This only made you frown, increasing the anger in you. "All of you, out!" You repeated.

"My princess, our Lord requires our attention," a Maester said to you. Your jaw clenched at the defiance. "His state is-"

"I know what his state is, do you think I do not have eyes to see how my husband is harmed?!" Your voice rising as your cheeks turned red with fury. The middle aged man in front of you shrank in his position after he received your words. "Now get out, but stay around. I will call for all of you once we're finished. Now!"

You saw hesitation in his eyes, but the man simply nodded and with a small gesture he took all of the people out of the room. They quietly left the chambers as you shared stares with your husband. He looked up at you with those gray, puppy eyes, as if he had done something wrong and he was expecting you to scold him anytime now. He looked defenseless.

Only when the door was closed, you said, "Spit it out."

"It was a giant," he confessed, as quickly as you finished pronouncing your words.

"A giant?" You repeated, incredulously.

"I was fighting against the wildlings and this giant came to me out of nowhere…" He took a brief pause, shifting his position to a more comfortable one. You could see in his expression how it pained him to move, and you felt your heart break after seeing him in such a state." Last thing I knew I was flying across the field and landing on the rocks covered by the snow."

"You dumb, tall child," you muttered as you sat next to him. He immediately reached for your hand once again.

"For a moment I thought I was about to die," he confessed, "my mind played a memory of your laughter and I could've sworn I entered the heavens." You almost blush at his charming words, feeling the warmth of his love filling your heart with joy once again. "But then, I got really scared, my love, because I thought, for an instant, that I was leaving you behind… that our pups would've grown without his father, and that our Elion would've not known how to recognise my face."

And just like that, it was as if he was storytelling your worst nightmare; something that you were unable to think without shedding tears. The mere thought broke your soul into pieces. "But you are here," you whispered as you leaned to touch his face, "the gods had brought you back to my arms, because they know I cannot live without you." You grabbed a small bowl on the nightstand which was filled with water, and with a small cloth you started to wipe the blood out of his face. "You have no excuses now, I'm coming with you next time."

"Are you insane?" He quickly said. "Look what they did to me!"

"I would be riding my dragon, love… patrolling the skies so no other being can hurt you again," you spst with rage. "Look at you! They almost took you away from me, I will not allow this to happen again."

"My love-"

"I will not accept defiance from you, husband. I will burn them all, all those savages will die screaming for what they did to you," your voice broke mid sentence as tears streamed down your face. Cregan carefully stretched his arm to cupped your cheek, your immediate response was to lean towards his touch. "You forbade my participation in this war because I was carrying our child, but now I'm prepared enough to fight, and I will call my brothers, they will-"

"Do not," he stopped you, "there's no need."

You frowned, shaking your head. Your stern look was enough to make your husband know that you were disagreeing with him. No words needed, he knew you too well.

"You cannot," he muttered.

"Winterfell is my home now, the place where my children were born… the place when I married the love of my life. It is my duty as Lady Stark to protect it."

"I will not allow it," he shook his head. "I refuse to put your life at risk. Our children need their mother."

"As well as they need their father," you added. Cregan haze softened and his jaw was unclenched. He sighed, tired, hurted, but you did not bend to his words, you were firm in your decision. "Ten years ago we made a pact; you fulfilled your part of the deal by taking your tropes and your bannermen to secure my brother's claim. Aegon is king because of you, my family is alive because of what you and your men did," you reminded him. "It is time for us to return the favor. We got married because of this alliance, remember?"

"We got married because I fell in love with you the instant you arrived in your dragon," he confessed. You leaned back, a bit incredulous.

"You're a liar," you accused him.

"I swear I'm telling no lies, my beautiful princess," he smiled softly, still showing signs of his pain. The hand that was holding your face shifted its position to let his thumb wipe your tears. He scoffed after seeing your expression. "What? Did you really think I would let myself be seduced so easily?" You blushed, remembering the boldness in your attitude on the day of your first encounter. "I let myself go because you were something I just could not resist. You're my greatest weakness, my love, and for that exact same reason I cannot put you at risk."

"I can't let you come back out there alone, not when I have a dragon to protect you. Not when this happened."

"Please…"

"I love you, Cregan," you interrupted him, "and I cannot make it without you. I'm begging you, let me help you… allow me to call my brothers, they will be here within days."

"But-"

"No," you shook your head, "no buts. Let me protect our home, let me fight for it. Together we make a marvelous team, my love… we will win this just if we are together." You got closer to him, close enough to press your forehead against his. The blood of his wounds stained your skin but you did not seem to care, you needed to feel him close. "I don't care if I have to fly my dragon across the Wall, as long as I kill every single one of those who harmed you." You whispered your words, Cregan could taste the rage in them.

Your hands were caressing his wounded face as he moved his chin up in order to reach your lips in a tender and soft kiss. You felt the drops of blood coming out of the cut in his lip and being spreaded against yours. You could not care less.

"Promise me something," he whispered, your eyes remaining closed. "promise me that as soon as you feel something is wrong you will return here…"

You frowned, pulling away from him and opening your eyes. A confused look in them as you said, "and leaving you behind? No way."

"Y/n…" He sighed.

"No, I will not leave you there, Cregan," you shook your head. "As soon as I feel like something is wrong I will make you get up on my dragon and i will fly away with you."

"No, it's too risky."

"I do not care!" You grab his face, softly to not hurt him but strong enough to force him to look at you. "I will be by your side until death do us apart, get used to it. I will not abandon you, no fucking way. So either you accept this, or I will go to ride my dragon and kill them all, without you."

He knew you meant it. He knew your words were not lacking sincerity. He knew you too well. A small nod was all you needed to let go of the air contained in your lungs. He had accepted, making you feel some kind of relief. He was too tired to keep fighting against your ideals, and some part of him knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he would not change your mind.

"Send ravens to your brothers, my love," he said. "I'll send them to my bannermen."

"Okay…" you whispered, leaning forward just to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I will."

You stroke his brown thick hair before straightening up and attempt to walk out of the room. He held your hand, however, making you stop before you could move away. You turned to look at him, and Cregan smiled.

"I'm so in love with you, my little princess," he murmured. "My little dragon."

You felt the warmth in your cheeks as you pressed your lips to repress a silly smile. You had been married for more than ten years, and you still feel like a maiden being courted every time he would say those things to you. Your heart jumping out of excitement, making you forget all the problems that existed on the other side of the door. You allowed yourself to soften your hard demeanor, just for a few seconds, and only for him to see.

"We're going to protect our home," you said, "we're going to bring peace to our children's future… I promise you that."

"I know," he nodded.

A small silence was present afterwards, but it was quickly interrupted by your words, "I love you."

Cregan smiled.

"And I love you too."

You kissed his hand before letting him go. Walking towards the door and allowing the Maesters and the maids to come inside to attend your husband once again.

You gave one last look inside the room, and once again your hand fell on your belly out of habit. As the door closed, your facade became hard and stern. Your jaw clenched as your haze became one full of anger and hate; you asked for forgiveness to the gods, for you promised to yourself you were going to make all those savages scream in agony for what they had done to your sweet husband.

You were going to make sure of that.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU

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CREGAN TAG LIST - @melsunshine @satansdarlin @aelora-a @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

#among wolves and dragons #cregan stark fanfic #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x targ!reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x targaryen!reader #cregan stark #cregan x targ!wife #cregan x y/n #cregan x you #house of the dragon #hotd #house stark #house targaryen #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #hotd au #the greens #targ!reader

[pettyprocrastination]

I think if I was alicent Hightower's fruity little lady-in-waiting this all would have been avoided. She would have been too busy getting kisses to even THINK about usurping smh.

#fic idea of being her lady in waiting slash true love that keeps her sane through the targ drama and goves her that sloppy toppy #she deserves it #alicent hightower x reader

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Can we get more on Viseriya Targaryen and her relationship with Maegor and Aerion?

Viseriya was mostly raised by Maegor and Aerion's Tyrell!mother. She grew up seeing Tyrell!mother follow all the traditions and she was always close with her uncles Maegor and Aerion. She always knew she will marry one of them. She saw Maegor and Aerion with many women, sometimes multiple women at once. Tyrell!mother would tell her she will be the most important woman in their lives one day.

Imagine Viseriya arranged to marry Aenys' son. Imagine Maegor and Aerion taking over the castle right before the wedding. Maybe Maegor marries Viseriya right there or maybe there is a grand wedding just days later. Imagine Viseriya wearing the most beautiful revealing wedding dress, designed by Tyrell!mother. Imagine Viseriya edged all night right before the wedding day so she is ready for the wedding ceremony.

Both Maegor and Aerion claiming her during the bedding ceremony. Claiming all her holes. Declaring she belongs to the mad dragons.

She loves both Maegor and Aerion dearly. She loves the attention. She loves their cruelty. She loves their madness. She loves the pain and pleasure.

Both Maegor and Aerion values and love her more than their other wives. She knows their other wives are beneath her, even the ones who claims they are from respectable houses or that their husband loves them.

Imagine Viseriya pleasuring and riding Maegor or Aerion in front of their wives.

Maegor and Aerion are totally addicted to Viseriya. They will sometimes take her with them even when going to war. Imagine them claiming her in a tent at night and their shadows arw very visible from outside, the armys watching. Or claiming her after a war where Maegor and Aerion are covered in blood. The dragons believe that if a child is conceived on a battlefield it grows up to be a powerful king.

Viseriya is very manipulative and seductive so she knows how to keep the two mad dragons wrapped around her fingers, just like how all three of them are wrapped around Tyrell!mother's finger

#maegor targaryen x reader #maegor targaryen x targ!reader #maegor targaryen #aerion x maegor #aerion targaryen #maegor x viseriya #viseriya targaryen #viseriya #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #game of thrones imagines #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon imagine

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ #2

YAY! We finally got through scene II! Now that Daemon's in the modern world with us, we obviously have to add a modern love interest 😁😁

tbh maybe this is too many choices bUTTT HIHIHH ✨variety✨ For context, this man would be her boss (cos we love a good power imbalance 🤣) and obviously has a super massive soft spot for her #sugardaddycore lmao

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #hotd au #daemon au #accidental targ #house of the dragon fanfic