"Mua" - Aemond Targaryen X Older Sister!Reader

"Muña" - Aemond Targaryen x Older Sister!Reader

a/n: reader is described as having hightower features (dark curly hair + dark eyes)

Summary: Aemond longs for you, Aegon's twin.

TW: canon typical incest, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, oral f and m receiving, face sitting, p in v s*x, choking, tiddy succin, cawk n (light) face slappin, ye olde mommy k*nk, edging, subby aemond

Word Count: 3,820 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

Despite being only three years older than your little brother, he’s always seemed to consider you as more of a mother figure than an elder sister. Your mother was young when she gave birth to you and your siblings, too young, some would say. And so, the older you grew, the more she relied on you for help, asking you to care for your younger siblings, the way a good sister should. You were put in charge of comforting Aemond when he was teased for not having a dragon, for assisting Helaena with her bug collecting, for stopping Daeron from fighting with Jacaerys.

At first, you resent having to essentially parent your younger sister and brothers, and to a lesser extent, Aegon. The younger ones cling to your skirts all throughout your childhood, though the one who clings to you the most was Aemond. You recall him climbing into your lap when you were seven and he was four, pleading with you to read to him about the Doom of Old Valyria, about Aegon’s Conquest, all manner of things. Aemond always gazes up at you, with his bright blue inquisitive eyes, asking you every question under the sun. You know that, from a young age, Aemond will prove to be the most intelligent of your brothers.

You only grow closer as the years pass and you continue to dote on your little brother, lavishing him with love and attention, even more so after he loses his eye on Driftmark that fateful night. You are the one he cries out for when his pains grow too intense to handle. You sing him to sleep, running your hands through his hair, soothing him till he finally grows tired enough from his weeping to sleep.

Shortly after that, Aemond is devastated to learn his mother has betrothed you to your twin  during the time when he was recovering from his wound. He is quite sure that you don’t love Aegon, at least, not romantically. You and Aegon certainly have a unique bond, Aemond thinks, as though the two of you have a language of your own, living in your own little world. But it isn’t romantic love. Not like the love Aemond feels for you.

Aemond pours all of his energies into training and studying, becoming the best version of himself possible in hopes of impressing you. He preens under your praise whenever you clap for him as he trains with Ser Criston, whenever you compliment his skill in High Valyrian. Your approval and love is all he craves. And he is entirely delighted at the way you continuously put off your looming nuptials with Aegon. It gives him hope that, given time, you will come to see him the way he sees you. The love of his life.

When you wake up, you set about making sure your brothers and Helaena are awake and ready to break their fast together. Despite all of you being fully grown, you and Aegon now being three and twenty, you still find yourself mothering the lot of them. You enter Aemond’s chambers, throwing open his curtains. Aemond sits at the foot of his bed, already awake, scrambling to grab his eyepatch and cover his scar, despite knowing you don’t mind the sight of it.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Aemond mutters.

“I can be in here whenever I want, zaldrītsos, I’m your big sister,” you retort, giving him a cheeky grin, hands on your hips. (little dragon)

Aemond admires how you look in the early morning light, your form backlit by the window. Though Valyrian features are considered to be among the most beautiful, he can’t help but adore that you have the Hightower look, with your long dark curls that fall to your waist and big dark doe eyes. Ever the little carbon copy of your mother. However, he absolutely despises the nickname you’ve given him.

“Hm,” he grumbles, standing up from his bed and moving toward his changing screen.

“Someone’s grumpy,” you tease, taking a seat on his bed, waiting for him to finish.

“I hate it when you call me that. Little dragon, little one, little brother. I’m nearly twice your height, if you don’t recall-”

“And yet I’m still three years older than you,” you grin, standing again and looking up at him when he approaches you, “Shall we go?”

Aemond nods, sighing as he takes your arm and the two of you walk out into the hall, “Why is it always me you wake up last?”

“I like letting you sleep a little longer, sweetling,” you lean up and poke his nose, giving him a wink, “You’re my favorite sibling, zaldrītsos, don’t forget that.”

He both loves and hates when you treat him like this, like he’s still that same little boy who’d come crying to you about not having a dragon. He’s a man grown now, and you’re a woman. He’s twenty years old and rides Vhagar, the world’s largest dragon. He needs you to see him as the man that he’s become, not the boy he once was.

“‘Sweetling’,” Aemond scoffs as the two of you walk, repeating the term of endearment, “You talk to me like I am still four feet tall and covered in snot.”

You roll your eyes, “What do you wish for me to call you then, hm? Since I’m not allowed to say ‘little brother’, ‘little dragon’, and now even ‘sweetling’. I seem to be running out of options.”

“Aemond, just Aemond.”

“Alright, just Aemond,” you elbow him, earning a playful smirk in return, “Shall we spar before we break our fast? Work up a bit of an appetite?”

Your brother nods, “I would love to,” he pauses before grinning at you and poking you square on the nose, “Mandia.” (big sister)

“Mandȳs, not mandia,” you correct, the two of you make your way to the training yard, you chiding him as you go, “You act like a child and expect me not to refer to you as my valonqar. Valonqus, I simply do not know what to do with you.” (big sister, little brother)

Aemond gives you a sly smile as you release his arm, grabbing a training sword for yourself and then tossing one his way, “Well, I am a child who will win this spar without even breaking a sweat, mandȳs.”

You shake your head, grinning to yourself, “Your arrogance will be the death of you, valonqus, you would do well to keep your ego in check,” you glance around, seeing that the training yard is empty at this early hour and giggle to yourself, “At least no one is around to witness your crushing defeat.”

The sound of your laugh brings a feeling of warmth to Aemond’s chest that he doesn’t feel with anyone save for you. He thinks he could listen to you laugh for hours and never tire of the sound. However, not wanting you to catch him daydreaming of you, he gives you a light shove to the shoulder before assuming a defensive position, readying himself to fight you. You gesture for him to make the first move and he isn’t particularly surprised when you draw first blood. He lunges at you, wanting to gain the upper hand, but you deftly dodge him, instead giving him a firm whack on the bum with your training sword. Aemond scowls and lunges at you, attempting to tackle you, which you again dodge, instead, knocking him down.

“What a dirty trick, little dragon,” you click your tongue, resting a dainty foot on his chest, holding him in place as he struggles to stand, “Oh, I don’t think so.”

Aemond gazes up at you, his cheeks slightly flushed, feeling quite embarrassed at the way his breeches have grown tighter at the way you’re treating him. It’s pathetic, and he knows it. But he’s pathetic for you. He always has been. You extend a hand to your brother, helping him to his feet. And then it comes again.

“Let’s go to the dining hall, little brother.”

He lets out a frustrated groan, “Stop calling me that! I hate it!” Aemond’s thoughts come tumbling from his lips, “I hate that you see me as nothing but a child! An annoyance! That’s not how I want you to see me!”

You’re quiet for a moment before approaching him, “How do you want me to see you then, brother?” you ask gently, resting a hand on his chest.

Aemond pulls away from you, pacing back and forth, unable to look at you, “As a man, not a boy. As someone who is capable of protecting you. As someone strong and,” he meets your gaze, cheeks flushed as he speaks, “Handsome.”

You sigh, resting your hands on his cheek, “Well of course you’re handsome, anyone who says otherwise is either blind or a fool.”

Aemond is somewhat surprised and very flustered as he mumbles, “You really find me handsome?”

“Of course I do,” you smile at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Never doubt that, valonqus.”

“Do you, perhaps, like me?” Aemond asks shyly as the two of you walk toward the dining hall.

“Sure, Aemond, you’re my lit-”

“No, no, no,” he cuts you off with an audible sigh, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into an empty corridor, pressing you up against the wall, his forehead resting against yours as he speaks, “I don’t mean like a brother. I mean like a man.”

“Aemond,” you drawl, “What are you trying to do here?” you question, arching a brow, waiting for him to answer.

Aemond sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before muttering, “I am attempting to flirt with you, sister.”

You’re silent for a long moment before a soft laugh escapes your lips, “Gods, you’re adorable.”

The comment causes Aemond’s cheeks to flush bright red. He looks mildly horrified and humiliated at your laughter, staring at his feet before gazing back up at you.

“I’m not adorable,” he protests vehemently, “I’m a man!”

You wrap your arms around him, pressing your body up against his in a way that makes him shiver, “Yes, you are a man. And a very handsome one at that,” you smile as his blush gets even worse and coo, “So cute, like a little maiden on her wedding night.”

Aemond rests his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, hiding his face from you. Only in his wildest dreams has he ever been close to you like this. And it’s so much better than he ever could have imagined. Your body is soft and warm to the touch as you embrace him, as he holds you in his arms.

“Do you like me, little dragon?” comes your teasing voice, “Do you yearn for my touch?”

“I think my answer is quite obvious,” Aemond’s response is barely above a whisper, “Don’t taunt me like this.”

“How long have you wanted me?” you murmur, brushing your nose against his, “How long, zaldrītsos?”

“Too long,” he rasps, his hands grasping at your hips desperately, “Every moment I don’t have you, I want you. I crave you. Your body, your lips,” Aemond pleads, “I can’t wait any longer, please, sister…”

You brush your lips against Aemond’s. It’s the barest hint of a kiss, meant to taunt him, show him what he’s been longing for all this time. Aemond lets out a low moan at the feel of your soft lips, so smooth and sweet and perfect against his own. When you begin pulling back, he reaches for you, chasing your lips with his own, but you continue to pull away.

“More, please, mandȳs, please…”

You pat his cheek, giving him a light slap on his face, “Don’t be greedy. Greedy little boys don’t get nice things,” you chide.

The desire in Aemond’s eye grows even stronger as he pleads, “Mandȳs, don’t torture me like this.”

You trail kisses along his jawline, murmuring, “Be a good boy for me then. Good boys get their rewards. Naughty boys get punished. Which are you going to be, love?”

Aemond moans at the touch of your lips, “I’m trying, mandȳs, I’m trying my best to be your good boy,” the next sound he lets out is more akin to a whimper.

You smirk at the noise and coo, brushing your knuckles across his cheek, “Are you whimpering, zaldrītsos? Needy little thing.”

“Yes,” Aemond whimpers, “I am, please,” his voice is a low whisper as he pants, “I can’t take it anymore. I need you.”

You hold his chin in your hands, “Such a pretty boy, aren’t you, love? My pretty boy?”

He nods eagerly, his hands moving to thread themselves in your hair, leaning in closer to you, his lips nearly brushing against yours as he breathes, “Yes. I’m yours, only yours.”

You pull away just before he can kiss you, “Don’t touch yourself. Don’t try to seek any type of relief, and mayhaps after dinner, I’ll give you what it is you so desperately need.”

Aemond looks at you incredulously as you pull away, “Please, mandȳs, I can’t wait,” he frowns, reminding you a bit of a pouting child, “Please!”

“Behave, little dragon,” you hum, “All good things to those who wait.”

Aemond’s jaw drops as you saunter out the door, flashing him a smile over your shoulder as he calls out to you, “You can’t just taunt me like this and leave me wanting! Please, I’ll do anything-”

“See you at dinner.”

The prince groans, falling back against his bed, tugging at his hair, “This is torture! How am I meant to survive this?”

At dinner that evening, Aemond isn’t the least bit surprised when you approach him at dinner that evening. What does surprise him, however, is how low cut the dress you wear is. His eye keeps traveling to your cleavage that is on display, just for him, as you ask in that warm, dulcet tone of yours if you can sit beside him. He nods, standing to pull your chair out for you. After he takes a seat beside you, he can’t help himself from inhaling sharply when you rest your hand on his thigh, a long groan escaping his lips.

“Do you mean to torture me?”

“Not at all, valonqus,” you give him a sweet smile, noticing the way his gaze is fixed on your chest, at the small dragon pendant he carved for you as a child nestled between your breasts, “It’s my favorite necklace.”

Dinner goes on and your hand remains on Aemond’s thigh, squeezing gently ever so often, a silent reminder for him to be good and that he’ll get what it is he wants. He practically trips over his own feet, following you to your chambers, beyond eager to finally get the reward he believes he deserves. You make up some excuse about practicing your High Valyrian together, to which your twin shoots you an amused look. You’ve never truly been able to hide anything from Aegon.

When the two of you enter your chambers, your lips find Aemond’s, moving against his in a slow, sensual kiss. Aemond moans into your mouth as your tongue dances against his. 

You pull back for a moment to ask him, whispering in his ear, “Tell me how badly you want me.”

Aemond looks at you, nearly trembling, “I don’t just want you. I need you. I crave you, I need to taste you, your lips, everything. You’re the only thing I want.”

“Hm,” you smile to yourself at his words before ordering, “Get rid of that tunic then. The breeches too, zaldrītsos.”

Aemond’s eye lights up and he immediately sets about disrobing, reaching behind his back to pull his tunic over his head, then undoing his breeches, letting them fall to the floor along with his undergarments, leaving him fully bare before you. He’s already hard, you muse, his arousal already leaking from the tip of his cock. He has a pretty one, you think, long, thick, curved slightly upwards with a prominent vein along the underside of it.

Aemond notes your pleasure with him and smirks, “Do you like what you see?”

“I do, my dragon,” you hum, gently pushing him back on the bed, laughing at his hungry gaze as you begin to undo the bodice of your gown, the offending fabric soon falling in a pool at your feet, leaving you in only your shift.

You rid yourself of the shift as well, baring yourself completely to Aemond’s lascivious gaze. His lips part in wonder as he admires you, his eye lingering on your breasts, wanting nothing more than to-

“Do you want to kiss me there, Aemy?” you purr, moving to straddle him, giggling slightly at the low moan that passes his lips.

“Yes, mandȳs,” he groans, his hands moving up to cup your tits, squeezing them, kneading the flesh between his hands almost desperately.

You lean in closer, “Go ahead, little brother.”

Aemond begins eagerly suckling at your tits, moaning against your skin as he moves his tongue over one pebbled peak as he groans, “Muña…” (mommy)

Oh, you absolutely love that, the little thrill it sends up your spine, and you run your hand through his hair as he continues eagerly mouthing at your chest, “You’re like a greedy little babe.”

He switches to your other breast, giving you an impish smirk before his lips descend on you once more, “Am I doing it right?”

“Just perfect,” you coo, “Sȳz taobus…” (good boy)

Aemond groans at your words, feeling himself harden even more if possible, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing slightly. He bristles when you slap his chest, giving him a warning glare.

“I didn’t say you could do that yet, did I?”

Aemond pouts slightly as you move off of him, though his disappointment is short lived when you lean in, gazing up at him through your lashes as you give little kitten licks to the tip of his cock, alternating between this and mouthing at his stones, the latter of which elicits the sweetest little gasp from him, making you smirk with delight.

“Oh gods, muña, please,” he whimpers, barely able to hold himself back from bucking his hips against your mouth.

Instead, he allows you to inflict this sweet torture on him, your pretty pink tongue darting out to taste him, alternating between fondling and suckling at his stones, but never enough. You tease him, mouthing at the tip of his cock, taking only that into your mouth before pulling off with a lewd popping noise, smirking up at him. And when he tries to buck his hips against you, too desperate to control himself any longer, you pull away completely and land a light slap on his cock, making him cry out your name, pleading for some reprieve. He squirms against the bed, desperate for friction as you climb on top of him to straddle him, your bare cunt brushing against his achingly hard cock.

“You’ll stay still and take what I give you,” you scold him, gazing down at him with those dark eyes of yours that never fail to make him feel weak in the knees.

Aemond nods, gazing up at you, protesting when you go to remove his eyepatch, silenced with a single reprimanding look from you. His good eye flutters shut as your lips ghost across his scar, a silent reminder to him that neither it nor his sapphire have ever frightened you.

“My pretty boy,” you say softly, “Do you want to taste muña?”

He nods eagerly, gazing at you with reverence as you move to straddle his face. And when you lower your hips, letting him begin lapping at your folds, he swears he’s ascended to the seven heavens themselves, because you, in his mind, taste like the finest of all ambrosia. He squeezes the flesh of your thighs, his tongue moving against you eagerly, tasting you over and over as you move your hips. You make sure to brush your sensitive pearl against his nose every time, loving the way it feels as you grab the headboard, making sure not to put too much weight on Aemond. But he isn’t having that, grabbing you and pulling you close as he buries his tongue deep inside your cunt, moving his face side to side, making sure you feel his lips, his tongue, his nose, everything, bringing you to your peak with a cry of his name.

You move off of him, slowly sinking your hips down onto his cock, finally taking pity on him. Aemond whimpers at the feeling of your warmth finally enveloping him. When he begins moving his hips against yours, he’s surprised when your hand moves to his throat, squeezing slightly as you give him a warning glare.

“No, love, you’re going to lay back like a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, muña,” he whimpers, helpless to do anything except for watch as you sit there, his cock sheathed inside of you.

You enjoy the way Aemond gazes up at you, his eye almost tearing up as he silently pleads for you to move and give him the release he’s been dying for all day. And finally? You decide to take mercy on him, snapping your hips against his, bouncing up and down on his cock. He’s mesmerized by the sight of your tits bouncing in front of him and sits up, eager to take one in his mouth, grinning when you nod your approval. He mouths at your nipple as you continue riding him, rolling your hips against his, your cunt squeezing around him with every move, sending him closer and closer to the edge. Aemond babbles mindlessly, “muña, please, faster, more, gods” over and over, a complete wreck beneath you as you ride him.

You reach your peak before he does, though the way you squeeze around him soon prompts his own climax. You move to lay down beside him, smiling when he cuddles into you, his head resting on your chest, an arm slung around your waist. Your legs are intertwined. The moment is warm, comfortable.

It feels right.

“Are you really going to marry Aegon?” Aemond questions quietly after a moment.

“Sweetling,” you run your hand through his hair, “It’s what has been decided.”

“But what if I asked Mother if I could marry you? Would you be amenable to that?” Aemond asks, his voice soft, colored with insecurity, already devastated at the idea of saying no.

“Aemond, I adore you. There is nothing I would like more than to marry you instead of Aegon.”

And with those two simple sentences, Aemond’s insecurities, his fears, are all assuaged, in that way only you have ever been able to do. He falls asleep in your embrace, already plotting how to get the betrothal broken and himself appointed in Aegon’s place, dreaming of the future that he and you will have together.

Duty and Flames

Ser Criston Cole x targaryen original female character

Summary:

Daenys Velaryon, oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and, allegedly, Ser Laenor Velaryon.

Hair white like moon, eyes bright like the sun. Many say that she's the copy of her mother in her younger years, with an ethereal beauty and a kind but wild soul.

After six years in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra and her family have to travel back to Kings Landing to secure Lucerys position as heir to Driftmark. What happens when the chaotic members of the Targaryen family reunite again and a particular Lord Commander of the Kingsguard takes a more dark interest in the sweet Daenys?

Chapter 3 - Through halls and gardens

Ser Criston froze. No no no no.

He could pretend that he hadn’t listened and just kept walking, but his stop near the door gave him away.

Before he could turn around, Daenys had already stood up and walked up to him.

“Well, let’s go?” She asked impatiently.

Criston nodded and started walking while breathing heavily as he got anxious, not waiting for the Princess to follow him.

Daenys hurried her step not understanding the weird behavior of the knight. She quickly caught him and tangled her arm in his, as she would often do with her own guard.

As soon as Ser Criston felt her touch, even with the thick layers of his armor, he had to close his eyes for a few seconds to help himself calm down.

With such proximity he had the urge to trace her profile with his eyes but Daenys would certainly notice his inappropriate stares, so he just stared at the long corridor in front of them.

Daenys on the other hand, didn’t hold back. She had never stood that close with Ser Criston, though they lived in the same place for years. They were so close that she could smell the sweat under his armor.

It was odd but Daenys wasn’t disgusted with the smell like she would when her brothers came up to her all sweaty from training. In Ser Criston the smell had a more masculine appeal that intrigued her.

Her eyes slowly observed his features. His lips were plump with a pink coloring, and she kind of wanted to touched them just to see if they were as soft as they looked.

His dark thick hair was shinning, making more visible the few gray hairs that started to grown.

His beard was well trimmed, but would still tickle if a hand or other parts of someone’s body touched it. Daenys wanted to put her hand on his cheek, just to be certain it would tickle, but she didn’t, obviously.

Her face started to get hot, as she was getting red from all the thoughts about the man next to her.

She blamed her behavior on the wine she had drank at supper. Daenys was used to have some adventures with a few boys on Dragonstone, so having these types of thoughts was not a weird thing to her, but Ser Criston wasn’t an ordinary boy. He was a man much older than her, that had a close and almost weird relationship with a woman her family despised.

Ser Criston was so focused on the corridor in front of him and not looking at Daenys, that her flushed and embarrassed face passed unnoticed to him.

“So…is this what you do everyday? Protect the Queen and then go back to your little chambers to sleep a few hours, just to wake up the next day and do the exact same thing?” The silence was killing Daenys, so she tried to strike up a conversation, asking the first thing that came to mind.

It wasn’t the most gracious question, but she had always been curious about kingsguard’s routine.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I do Princess.” Ser Criston was taken aback, not expecting Daenys to engage with him, but he still tried to answer in the most polite way. “And i do not have little chambers. My apartment in the White Sword Tower is very spacious. I’m the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard after all.” He said the last sentence with a smug look, not hiding how proud he was of himself.

Daenys hold her laugh as she mocked Ser Criston in her head.

He only got promoted to Lord Commander because he kisses up Alicent’s ass. He really is a great fighter, but his obedience and submission is what got him there.

Hurried steps were heard, as someone was walking at full speed towards them. Ser Criston immediately got in a defense position, waking from the relaxed trance he had entered.

Ser Lyonel Bentley appeared in front of them, calming as soon as he noticed Daenys’s presence.

“Princess you had me worried. I thought you were just taking your time choosing a book, but then too much time had pass.” His relaxed state disappeared as he realized who was accompanying the princess.

As loyal man to Rhaenyra and her family, Ser Lyonel didn’t like or trust Ser Criston.

He held out his arm for Daenys to take while casting suspicious glances to the other man.

Daenys could smell the tension, felling Ser Criston move uncomfortably in place.

She also felt bad for making her own guard worried, so she took his arm and gave Ser Criston a small smile.

“Sleep well Ser.” She waved her hand gracefully and fluttered her big eyelashes to him.

Ser Criston remained in place, watching Ser Lyonel and Daenys depart. Only when they disappeared down the hall, did he turn walking finally to his room in the White Sword Tower.

As he lay down, feeling free of the heat of his armor, he felt a desire he hadn't felt since Rhaenyra.

He was twitching, and a part of him begged to let his hand go inside his breeches.

After all, he has his own apartment, no one would know.

But he would. His honor would be ruined again. No. He was a respectful knight. The Lord Commander. A little girl wouldn’t destroyed him, again.

Daenys Targaryen was a whore, she knew what she was doing. Fluttering his eyelashes to him like some cheap woman of the Street of Silk. Its all part of a plan from Rhaenyra or Daemon he was sure. If they brought him down, they would be one step closer to Alicent, and she was his Queen after all. And duty was above everything, especially above Targaryen bitches like Daenys.

-

In the morning, after Daenys had shared her breakfast with her brothers, she decided to go for a walk in the Red Keep’s gardens.

It used to be one of her favorite places in the castle, as she loved the colors and shapes of the flowers.

She was exploring the new plants that had grown, when she heard strange noises coming from behind the bushes.

She followed the noise, and as she got closer to it’s source, she finally understood what she was hearing. It was moans.

Embarrassed, Daenys decided to walk back, but when she turned around, a bird flew right in front of her face, scaring her and making her gasp.

“Daenys?” Someone called.

She knew that voice.

When she looked again, she found Aegon but he wasn’t alone. A maid was on her knees, right in the middle of her uncle’s legs.

Of course.

She rolled her eyes at him, moving her feet quickly, dying to get out of there.

She didn’t understand how a boy that once was fun and adoring, had become so depraved.

“Dae wait!” Aegon was running trying to catch her while tying his breeches at the same time.

Using her nickname wasn’t fair, Daenys thought.

Stoping in her track, the princess waited for Aegon to explain himself, not daring to look down from his face.

Aegon had grown into a man, a very attractive one. He was taller and bulkier, but Daenys could not look away from the dark circles under his eyes. For a few seconds she felt for him, remembering how he used to be her best friend, not enjoying the sight of the man in front of her.

But then she recalled the day Aegon had stopped playing with her, and how lonely she had felt at losing her friend and uncle to older women and wine.

“Hm…you look different, beautiful but different.” He said.

Aegon was mesmerized by Daenys figure. He obviously could still notice some of her childhood features, but overall she was a brand new person. The dress she wore that day accentuated her womanly silhouette, showing the top of her breasts, and drawing attention to her waist and hips.

His eyes glued to her body like honey to a spoon.

Daenys notice his stares but honestly, she didn’t mind it. She knew she was charming, and after being obsessed with Aegon pretty much her whole youth, she was okay with him felling the same way about her now.

“Are going to explain yourself? Or can I go?” She questioned.

“There’s not much explaining to do. You saw what you saw.” Aegon scratched his neck, in a nervous mechanism.

“I was expecting at least an apology, you know. After all, me, an innocent girl, just saw a very impure and pervert conduct.” The irony in Daenys’s voice was clear, and even though Aegon was a little taken back that his beloved niece caught him in action, he managed to pick up on that detail.

“You right princess, the next time I put some maid between my legs I will make sure you’re very far away from us. So please, tonight guarantee you don’t pass close to my chambers.” He smirked. “Theirs noises usually tend to spread to the halls.”

Daenys’s face got hot and not knowing what to respond, she gave her uncle a last look before turning back and returning to her room.

When she reached her chambers she found her guard with an annoyed look on his face, as someone was leaning relaxed against her the door waiting for her.

“Aemond?”

Note

Sorry for taking so long my dears ❤️‍🩹 I will try to be faster and publish the next chapter in a few days.

Taglist: @iamavailablesstuff

social media au: harry and y/n are besties. really good besties. featuring LOTS of tweets, memes, insta posts and harry being horny in the comments section.

note; i rarely use a face claim. for this one, i somehow (it just happened) used gracie abrams. there’s not many photos of her, though. hope u still find something funny below to enjoy either way.

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lloyddddddddddddddddd Love On Tour. Nothing I can type here can describe what the past 18 months have been like for me. I’ve loved every second. Thank you so much to everyone involved and to all of the incredible people Ive met along the way for making it a truly phenomenal experience.  And ofc a special thank you to @harrystyles for bringing me along, what a boy.  Hope you all enjoyed the pics 💘

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bradgouldtraining Best in da game

ynsgolden LLOYD ITS SEVEN IN THE MORNING!!!!!!!

glenne_azoff @yn

paulithepsm @yn

harryshoehouse bet u were giggling taking the second pic

lolharryshouse why's everyone tagging y/n lmao

harrysgrapejuice EVERYONE TAGGING Y/N JHFBSDNS

yn nice abs asshole

harrysgotthestyles YN!!!! LMAOOOOOOOOOO jessbrian ok girly we see u dianelouise JUST TEXT HIM LMAO

captainstyles someone check on y/n lmao

jeff_azoff @yn 👀

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yn day n night (see also: my two personalities)

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ynsbread ok but queen

harryteheestyles sooooooo classy 🙄

harryscowboy WHOSE PILLOWS??????????

gemmastyles That t-shirt is so you.

yn thanks again 😂

bradgouldtraining 👀

anthonypham don't start yn yeah be gone mr. muscle

harrystyles 🐎

theestylees OMG HAYRY????D??@EFKCJ giawilliams ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE harrysgoldboots boY JUST TEXT HER LMAO ynshouse you guys are so h*rny for each other it's insaneeeee lovemeontour gIRLLLLLLLLLLLLL WHATS THET MEAN bradrry YOU ARE INSANE FOR THISSSSSSSSSS

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yn i ♥️ italia

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ynxniall i recognise that eye

aveceyepatch GREEN EYES

ynsbestie i know that eye

annetwist 🥰😍😘!

goldenharry MOTHER APPROVES

ynarchive soft launch.........SOFT LAUNCH

harrystrainer girl they were eating each other's faces yesterday what soft launch are u talking about!!!!

harrystyles 🤝

fratrryy BOY BYE breadkingharry GIRLLLLLLLLL YOURE TOO MUCH zarrysheart harry.... ynspookie you're playinnnnnnn too much

bradgouldtraining Slay!

yn i will be blocking you

stylesarchive faves

jeff_azoff Slayyy.

kidharpoon Slayed

*checks the age gap between me and my favorite actors*

also me:

Duty and Flames

Ser Criston Cole x targaryen original female character

Summary:

Daenys Velaryon, oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and, allegedly, Ser Laenor Velaryon.

Hair white like moon, eyes bright like the sun. Many say that she's the copy of her mother in her younger years, with an ethereal beauty and a kind but wild soul.

After six years in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra and her family have to travel back to Kings Landing to secure Lucerys position as heir to Driftmark. What happens when the chaotic members of the Targaryen family reunite again and a particular Lord Commander of the Kingsguard takes a more dark interest in the sweet Daenys?

Chapter 3 - Through halls and gardens

Ser Criston froze. No no no no.

He could pretend that he didn’t listen and just kept walking, but his stop near the door gave him away.

Before he could turn around, Daenys had already stood up and walked up to him.

“Well, let’s go?” She asked impatiently.

Criston nodded and started walking while breathing heavily as he got anxious, not waiting for the Princess to follow him.

Daenys hurried her step not understanding the weird behavior of the knight. She quickly caught him and tangled her arm in his, as she would often do with her own guard.

As soon as Ser Criston felt her touch, even with the thick layers of his armor, he had to close his eyes for a few seconds to help himself calm down.

With such proximity he had the urge to trace her profile with his eyes but Daenys would certainly notice his inappropriate stares, so he just stared at the long corridor in front of them.

Daenys on the other hand, didn’t hold back. She had never stood that close with Ser Criston, though they lived in the same place for years. They were so close that she could smell the sweat under his armor.

It was odd but Daenys wasn’t disgusted with the smell like she would when her brothers came up to her all sweaty from training. In Ser Criston the smell had a more masculine appeal that intrigued her.

Her eyes slowly observed his features. His lips were plump with a pink coloring, and she kind of wanted to touched them just to see if they were as soft as they looked.

His dark thick hair was shinning, making more visible the few gray hairs that started to grown.

His beard was well trimmed, but would still tickle if a hand or other parts of someone’s body touched it. Daenys wanted to put her hand on his cheek, just to be certain it would tickle, but she didn’t, obviously.

Her face started to get hot, as she was getting red from all the thoughts about the man next to her.

She blamed her behavior on the wine she had drank at supper. Daenys was used to have some adventures with a few boys on Dragonstone, so having these types of thoughts was not a weird thing to her, but Ser Criston wasn’t an ordinary boy. He was a man much older than her, that had a close and almost weird relationship with a woman her family despised.

Ser Criston was so focused on the corridor in front of him and not looking at Daenys, that her flushed and embarrassed face passed unnoticed to him.

“So…is this what you do everyday? Protect the Queen and then go back to your little chambers to sleep a few hours, just to wake up the next day and do the exact same thing?” The silence was killing Daenys, so she tried to strike up a conversation, asking the first thing that came to mind.

It wasn’t the most gracious question, but she had always been curious about kingsguard’s routine.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I do Princess.” Ser Criston was taken aback, not expecting Daenys to engage with him, but he still tried to answer in the most polite way. “And i do not have little chambers. My apartment in the White Sword Tower is very spacious. I’m the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard after all.” He said the last sentence with a smug look, not hiding how proud he was of himself.

Daenys hold her laugh as she mocked Ser Criston in her head.

He only got promoted to Lord Commander because he kisses up Alicent’s ass. He really is a great fighter, but his obedience and submission is what got him there.

Hurried steps were heard, as someone was walking at full speed towards them. Ser Criston immediately got in a defense position, waking from the relaxed trance he had entered.

Ser Lyonel Bentley appeared in front of them, calming as soon as he noticed Daenys’s presence.

“Princess you had me worried. I thought you were just taking your time choosing a book, but then too much time had pass.” His relaxed state disappeared as he realized who was accompanying the princess.

As loyal man to Rhaenyra and her family, Ser Lyonel didn’t like or trust Ser Criston.

He held out his arm for Daenys to take while casting suspicious glances to the other man.

Daenys could smell the tension, felling Ser Criston move uncomfortably in place.

She also felt bad for making her own guard worried, so she took his arm and gave Ser Criston a small smile.

“Sleep well Ser.” She waved her hand gracefully and fluttered her big eyelashes to him.

Ser Criston remained in place, watching Ser Lyonel and Daenys depart. Only when they disappeared down the hall, did he turn walking finally to his room in the White Sword Tower.

As he lay down, feeling free of the heat of his armor, he felt a desire he hadn't felt since Rhaenyra.

He was twitching, and a part of him begged to let his hand go inside his breeches.

After all, he has his own apartment, no one would know.

But he would. His honor would be ruined again. No. He was a respectful knight. The Lord Commander. A little girl wouldn’t destroyed him, again.

Daenys Targaryen was a whore, she knew what she was doing. Fluttering his eyelashes to him like some cheap woman of the Street of Silk. Its all part of a plan from Rhaenyra or Daemon he was sure. If they brought him down, they would be one step closer to Alicent, and she was his Queen after all. And duty was above everything, especially above Targaryen bitches like Daenys.

-

In the morning, after Daenys had shared her breakfast with her brothers, she decided to go for a walk the Red Keep’s gardens.

It used to be one of her favorite places in the castle, as she loved the colors and shapes of the flowers.

She was exploring the new plants that had grown, when she heard strange noises coming from behind the bushes.

She followed the noise, and as she got closer to it’s source, she finally understood what she was hearing. It was moans.

Embarrassed, Daenys decided to walk back, but when she turned around, a bird flew right in front of her face, scaring her and making her gasp.

“Daenys?” Someone called.

She knew that voice.

When she looked to again, she found Aegon but he wasn’t alone. A maid was on her knees, right in the middle of her uncle’s legs.

Of course.

She rolled her eyes at him, moving her feet quickly, dying to get out of there.

She didn’t understand how a boy that once was fun and adoring, had become so depraved.

“Dae wait!” Aegon was running trying to catch her while tying his breeches at the same time.

Using her nickname wasn’t fair, Daenys thought.

Stoping in her track, the princess waited for Aegon to explain himself, not daring to look down from his face.

Aegon had grown into a man, a very attractive one. He was taller and bulkier, but Daenys could not look away from the dark circles under his eyes. For a few seconds she felt for him, remembering how he used to be her best friend, not enjoying the sight of the man in front of her.

But then she recalled the day Aegon had stopped playing with her, and how lonely she had felt at losing her friend and uncle to older women and wine.

“Hm…you look different, beautiful but different.” He said.

Aegon was mesmerized by Daenys figure. He obviously could still notice some of her childhood features, but overall she was a brand new person. The dress she wore that day accentuated her womanly silhouette, showing the top of her breasts, and drawing attention to her waist and hips.

His eyes glued to her body like honey to a spoon.

Daenys notice his stares but honestly, she didn’t mind it. She knew she was charming, and after being obsessed with Aegon pretty much her whole youth, she was okay with him felling the same way about her now.

“Are going to explain yourself? Or can I go?” She questioned.

“There’s not much explaining to do. You saw what you saw.” Aegon scratched his neck, in a nervous mechanism.

“I was expecting at least an apology, you know. After all, me, an innocent girl, just saw a very impure and pervert conduct.” The irony in Daenys’s voice was clear, and even though Aegon was a little taken back that his beloved niece caught him in action, he managed to pick up on that detail.

“You right princess, the next time I put some maid between my legs I will make sure you’re very far away from us. So please, tonight guarantee you don’t pass close to my chambers.” He smirked. “Theirs noises usually tend to spread to the halls.”

Daenys’s face got hot and not knowing what to respond, she gave her uncle a last look before turning back and returning to her room.

When she reached her chambers she found her guard with an annoyed look on his face, as someone was leaning relaxed against her the door waiting for her.

“Aemond?”

Note

Sorry for taking so long my dears ❤️‍🩹 I will try to be faster and publish the next chapter in a few days.

Taglist: @iamavailablesstuff

Duty and Flames

Ser Criston Cole x targaryen original female character

Summary:

Daenys Velaryon, oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and, allegedly, Ser Laenor Velaryon.

Hair white like moon, eyes bright like the sun. Many say that she’s the copy of her mother in her younger years, with an ethereal beauty and a kind but wild soul.

After six years in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra and her family have to travel back to Kings Landing to secure Lucerys position as heir to Driftmark. What happens when the chaotic members of the Targaryen family reunite again and a particular Lord Commander of the Kingsguard takes a more dark interest in the sweet Daenys?

Chapter 1 - Of memories and changes

The roads of Kings Landing were just as Daenys remembered it. Dirty, with excrements laying around as if they were flowers. The smell was so strong that she had to close the small window in the carriage. 

“How is this piece of shit the kings home?” Lucerys asked not remembering very well the details of the city that saw him came into this world. 

“Here is awful but in the keep its all clean and smells like freshly washed sheets. That’s what matters to the council in the end.” During the time that she lived in Red Keep, not once did Daenys witnessed the council caring about the small folk or even their living conditions. They were just numbers who only were relevant when someone forgot to pay their taxes or when the crime rates were too high and it started to get hard to put so many men in the dungeons. 

The carriage lurched and Daenys had to brace Jace’s arms in order to prevent her into falling on the floor or on top of Luke, who was in front of her.

“Careful sister, you almost hit my jaw with your elbow.” Jacaerys laughed and helped his sister sit properly on her seat.

Daenys had hit her knee on the wood of the seat and made a small noise of pain thar her brothers didn’t notice. An obvious bruise in the knee would appear in a day.

“Look, we’re here! I can see the gates already!” Luke pointed and the three siblings looked together through the small gaps of the carriage and saw the red gates of the castle. 

The gates opened and just after that, the two carriages that transported Daenys and her family, started to slow down and then stoped in the yard. 

Rhaenyra came out of her carriage, with Daemon and Joffrey behind her, and with the nursemaids that held the babes, Aegon and Viserys, following. The door to Daenys’s carriage open and she, Jacaerys and Lucerys got up and stepped into the ground as well.

As all the family members got out, they noticed an unusual but relevant detail. The lack of a proper reception to the heir to the Iron Throne. 

Daenys heard Daemon laugh, expect it wasn’t in a funny way and was more in a “been in here for one minute and already want to strangle the Hightowers” way.

The only person who was outside to greet them was Lord Caswell. “Welcome back princess. I’m sorry for the small reception but a lot is going on in the castle at moment, so we couldn’t find time to prepare.” 

Rhaenyra gave a yellow smile to Lord Caswell, pretending that she believed in his words and that the humiliating welcoming to the heir to the throne was not made on purpose. 

Daenys and Jace exchanged glances, communicating their feelings about this weird greeting with their eyes. 

“Please follow me your grace, and the maids will show you, your lord husband and your children the way to your respective chambers.” The family followed Lord Caswell and as soon as they entered the walls of the Red Keep they notice how everything had changed. 

The sigils of House Targaryen were no longer a statement in the the walls, and had been replaced with the symbol of the Seven Pointed Star. A clear change made by Alicent Hightower, a faithful women who didn’t understand the ways of the Targaryen culture.

“I would say its nice to be home but I scarcely recognize it.” Rhaenyra confessed and Daenys couldn´t agree more with her mother.

Being the eldest child, she was the one with more memories of the castle, but the current decoration of the Red Keep did hardly anything to relieve her childhood. The few minutes that she had spent inside the castle since her family’s arrival, had not brough the sweet sentiment of being home that she thought would feel.

“Children please go set yourselves in your chambers, while me and Daemon go visit the King.” Rhaenyra asked, as she also murmured to the nursemaids to bring little Viserys and Aegon with them.

Daenys nodded, obeying her mother’s request and took Joffrey’s hand in hers and began walking to their old rooms, with her other two brothers just behind her.

“Almost looks like we’re in the Sept.” Lucerys was still looking around, observing all the changes made in the castle. “If Alicent could, she would kill all the dragons and made us ride seven pointed stars.” He laughed and Jacaerys joined him.

“Shhh! Don´t say that, someone might hear you! The Hand and the Queen have ears and eyes everywhere.” Daenys could almost punch her brothers for speaking so freely about Alicent while they were still in the corridors of the castle. “We’re not in Dragonstone anymore. It´s been six years since we were here, and we don’t know the people who surround us anymore. Don’t forget that the main reason for our travel is to secure Lucerys’s position as heir to Driftmark, so please be careful brothers.” Her siblings laughs came to a stop once she started lecturing them, and the regret in Lucerys’s eyes was visible as he understood the danger of joking around in the keep.

Daenys knew how unpleasant these weeks in Kings Landing would be. Their family didn´t view them as equals, with the word “bastards” always in the point of their tongues. She also knew how difficult the relationship between Alicent and her mother was. Even if Rhaenyra had never spoken directly with her daughter about it, Daenys could read between the lines and notice the awkward stares and conversations the two women shared, since she started to understood the ways of the royalty.

The Velaryon children had finally reached their chambers, and Daenys gave Joffrey to one of his nursemaids and entered alone in her childhood bedroom.

Thankfully, the changes made by Alicent had not reached her room and everything was the same. The bed in the middle of the space with a beige dossel that went from the ceiling to the floor, the dark brown dressing table with a mirror on the left that reflected the image of her bed, and the fireplace that brought memories of her and Jacaerys reading together in front of it in the coldest days.

However, the favourite thing about her room was the window that showed a large view of Blackwater Bay and that would light the entire space from the early morning till very last second of the sunset. Daenys used to seat on a chair near the window and watched the sea move itself, observing the ships departing and arriving.

A knock on the door interrupted her small moment of nostalgia and she went to open it just to reveal Luke and Jace.

“Me and Luke and are going to training yard. Do you want to come with us?” The oldest of the boys asked.

“Are you going to train already? We only just arrived.” Daenys responded, not wanting her brothers to tired themselves so soon, knowing that they were probably sore from the ride in their dragons, even if wasn’t that long of a distance.

“No, we’re just going there to see if the mark made by Luke on the wall it’s still there, and also because we want see our old weapons. “ He stated exchanging excited glances with Lucerys. “Please come with us and don’t stay in your room all day hiding from Aegon.” Jacearys grabbed his sister’s hand and pushed her with them through the corridor.

“I’m not hiding from Aegon! In fact, his presence didn´t even crossed my mind! Not even for a second.” She argued.

Daenys and Aegon used to be very close. Practically best friends. They pulled many pranks together and were like two little nightmares always ready to create chaos in the castle. They used to stole cakes from the kitchen and throw pillows at the knights from the balconies of the keep. This lasted until the day Aegon discovered wine, and since them, his passion for playing and spending time with Daenys was replaced with more dirty hobbies, such as getting himself drunk and chasing around women. Daenys got tired of begging for his attention and learned how to have fun by herself, since she also didn’t like the games that Luke and Jace played, and Helaena was too different for her to understand. She tried befriending Aemond but he was a loner and denied pretty much all her invites to play.

“If you say so.” Jace shrug his shoulders.

Daenys tried to forget the matter, focusing only on walking to the training yard, but now that her brother had put Aegon in her thoughts, she quickly became anxious and wanted to turn around to go hide in her room like Jace had suggest.

“It looks smaller that I remember.” Luke said as soon as they arrived to the yard and Jace argued that it actually looked the exact same. Daenys didn’t really had opinion on the matter, since she rarely spent time there when they lived in keep. She appreciated reading and cross stitching with her Speta instead, being more fan of calm activities.

As soon as three siblings set foot in the training yard, Daenys could feel the looks of others in her skin, and she notice that Lucerys felt the same. Six years had passed since Rhaenyra’s children were last seen by members of the court, but those were not looks of curiosity. She could recognize some of ladies that eyed them, remembering how much they liked gossiping. In a matter of hours, their opinions about the looks of the three siblings would be completely spread through the castle, and she knew it wouldn’t be nice and kind ones.

“Everyone’s starring at us.” Luke said with sad eyes.“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong.”

Daenys immediately turned to her younger brother and put her hands in his shoulders in a comforting way. “Please ignore their stares and their words Luke. You are the legitimate heir to Driftmark. Even if you don´t share physical similarities with Ser Laenor, you are the boy he raised and loved. No one is more suited for this than you. “She smiled at him, ruffled his hair lovingly and then planted a kiss on his forehead, trying to make the boy feel better.

Lucerys was a boy of four and ten, but he never denied his sister’s affection, like the boys of his age did. He had a very strong connection with his sister and mother, so he adored when Daenys comforted him, or randomly just hugged him. He knew the role of women in their society, so he wanted to lean into his sister’s love before it was to late and she had to move away from their family to go live with some lord.

The cheers of a crowd attracted their attention and the three of them turned to see what occurred in the training yard.

A long blonde hair was moving in the air, as the person who the hair belonged to moved effortlessly from the blows of a knight. Immediately not only Daenys, but also Lucerys and Jacaerys, recognize the men who trained. Their uncle Aemond, and Ser Criston Cole.

Aemond was very different from the child he once was, now being almost tall as Daemon and with evident muscles from all his hard training. The eye patch was also a very prominent aspect in his new form, and Daenys couldn’t stop herself from looking nervously at Luke.

Aemond was really impressive. She couldn’t remember seeing someone so young and with that much skill. The little and shy boy from her childhood was now a man who did not fear the sharpness of a sword, and fired back with smart but fast blows.

However, her eyes also stopped to look at Ser Criston’s figure. He appeared older, with some visible wrinkles near his eyes as he made some faces during the fight, but at same time, he still looked exactly like the man Daenys used to see daily around the keep six years ago. Now that she was a woman of age and had more maturity, she couldn’t deny the beauty in Ser Criston Cole, even with all that sweat. His dornish features looked more appealing than ever, especially as the sun shine directly above him.

Ser Criston was also old enough to be her father, and had too close of a relationship with Alicent, so she quickly wiped these thoughts of her head.

When Daenys turned her focus on the fight again, it had already come to an end, with Aemond winning and showing clearly to everyone in the training yard his brilliant abilities as a fighter.

“Nephews, have you come to train? Or are you going to hide under your older sister’s skirts?” Aemond’s voice interrupted the conversations in the yard and Daenys locked eyes with him as soon as he mentioned her brothers. Aemond took his time and observed his niece carefully, noticing her also evident changes. She looked more tall as well, and her blonde hair was longer and wavier, touching her lower back almost like a cloak. Her body was also curvier, with the bump of her bottom and the swell of her breasts visible, even beneath the conservative dress that Daenys wore due to being more comfortable for dragon rides.

As Aemond had focus his attention on Daenys, so had Ser Criston, even if it was in a more discreet way. Last time he saw her she was a child of one and ten, and now in front of him he had a whole woman.

Ser Criston made a sound with his throat as he took in her similarities with Rhaenyra, the woman he once had been in love, and that rejected and humiliated him.

Daenys Velaryon shared absolutely nothing with her suppose father, Ser Laenor Velaryon, stealing all the traits from her mother. The hair, the cheeks, the lips and the eyes. Ser Criston Cole swore he was seeing young Rhaenyra in front of him once again. The only clear difference between her and Rhaenyra, was her height, and without realizing Ser Criston suddenly started to imagine the longs legs that were hidden under Daenys’s black dress.

Were her legs pale and thin like her mother’s? How would her eyes look like under the light of a few candles in her chambers? Did she smelled like lemon cake just like Rhaenyra used to? Or did she preferred the scent of jasmines and other flowers?

What sounds would she make as he kissed her neck? Would she touch his back with her nails just like Rhaenyra in that one time they spent together?

Ser Criston couldn’t believe in his own thoughts. He had been a good knight in those six years, loyal to the Queen like he was her dog. He wouldn’t let Rhaenyra ruin him again. Even if it wasn’t her, it was her bloodline that stood in front of him. With a sweet little face that could made the most religious man sin. He hated her already.

Rhaenyra’s family had only just arrived but Criston couldn´t wait for their departure as the simple presence of Daenys in the training yard was making him relive some memories he didn’t want to remember, and was awaking a side of him that he only wished would stay hidden.

Next chapter

Note

I want to read all of your opinions about this chapter and if you find any grammatical mistakes please comment so I can write it correctly. English is not my first language so I’m a little nervous writing this 🥲

Tomorrow I’m going to work on the second chapter and try to publish it as soon as I can.

Also, if you read the summary that I posted almost a month ago, yes I did change the title of the story.

Mari xx