The Second Circle Of Hell Is My New Obsession. Literally Feeding Us Both Osferth Content (baby Monk Needs

The second circle of hell is my new obsession. Literally feeding us both Osferth content (baby monk needs some love) and giving us the delicious corruption kink and religious guilt😩🥵. Absolutely loved it 11/10! Absolutely brilliant

Lmao we love that good ol' religious guilt. I'm so glad you enjoyed it💕💕💕 I enjoyed writing it😉😂

𝐀𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - Aemond Targaryen

third and last part to this mini series. i didn't think i'd make a part two but it came to me in a dream and i couldn't ignore my dreams, also peer pressure but that doesn't matter haha...anyway *cough* also, this last part came to me at like 3 am so

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), (TW) suicide attempt, attempted sexual assault, Stockholm syndrome, heavy angst, kinda Dark!Aemond (he gets better tho cause i couldn't help myself), incest, mild dubcon, oral (f!receiving), romantic-ish love making, fluff ughhh (this fic makes a complete 180 i'm sorry)

word count | 6k🤙🏻😅

part one | part two

You had never felt more hopeless in your entire life.

You had been pretty resilient throughout your time at King’s Landing, but it slowly dwindled the longer you were forced to stay.

The Greens chipped away at your strength piece by piece until there was barely anything left. You had been forced to stay in your designated chambers, no one allowed in or out besides the maids and guards. You couldn’t count how long it had been since you had seen a friendly face. You were completely alone. You hadn’t even seen your uncle since that night he forced himself on you, you wondered if he got punished for it. Probably not. You hated that you started to actually miss him. 

You just wanted to talk to somebody, anybody. You couldn’t just keep staying at the walls all day every day. You even started to wonder how badly it would hurt to throw yourself off your balcony. Would you die before you even hit the ground? Or worse, would you survive the fall?

You had woken up from a nightmare in a cold sweat one morning, shivering and aching all over. You didn’t get out of bed until your mouth started flooding with saliva, a sinking feeling washing over you as you felt your stomach lurch. You barely made it to your chamber pot before emptying the contents of your stomach, bile burning the back of your throat and tears streaming down your face. Spots blurred your vision as you slumped against the wall, leaning your head back as you closed your eye. You tried not to wince as your abdomen tensed painfully, another wave of nausea washing over you. You felt like you had been hit by a dragon, aches and pains all over your body including your empty eye socket. Perhaps the Stranger was finally coming to take you away? Would you be okay with that? Is death really better than being imprisoned?

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to find out. One of the maids that made your baths came in as you started to fall unconscious, but that darkness never took you as she slashed some cold water on your face, making you gasp awake. “You are burning up, my Lady.” The maid spoke softly. “Oh dear, you’ve vomited.”

“Clearly.” You mumbled incoherently.

“How long since you’ve last bled, my Lady?”

Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest for a moment, the thought immediately making you panic. But it hadn’t been that long ago. Sure, it was before Aemond had taken your virginity, but that didn’t automatically mean his seed had taken. “Almost two weeks ago.”

“I shall call for the maester.” The maid helped you to your bed, propping you up onto your pillows and leaving promptly.

No, you weren’t pregnant. You would know, wouldn’t you? Surely, women have a sort of sixth sense about that kind of stuff, right? You could only wait for the maester to tell you. But what would happen if you actually were? Would Alicent marry you and Aemond? The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

A gentle breeze blew in from the balcony. You often kept the doors open as the cool night air helped you fall asleep faster. The idea of escaping this life got more and more appealing as you kept thinking about what would happen if you were carrying a babe. A life such as this is no place to raise a baby, especially not with an enemy of your mother. You made your decision.

You cried out as you stood up from your bed, limping your way to your balcony with wobbly feet. You accidentally hit the wall on your left side, still having great difficulty adjusting to your new eyesight. But it would not matter soon enough. With shaking hands, you held onto the railing of your balcony, looking down on all your mother’s subjects. The sun was barely peeking out from the horizon, casting the kingdom in a light orange glow. King’s Landing was beautiful, truly. It would’ve made a nice home had your mother’s crown hadn’t been stolen. You could imagine your family’s dragons flying freely over the rooftops and towers of the Red Keep, your brothers smiling and laughing with each other, your parents ruling peacefully. Yeah, it would’ve been amazing.

You let out a sob as you heard your dragon’s roars pierce through the air, feeling your sorrow and despair like it was their own. You hoped nothing bad would happen to your dragon. Perhaps they’d get a new rider after you were gone. Maybe the Greens would set them free, let the creature grieve in peace away from the war. Doubtful. The thought almost made you back away from the rail, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. All your life you had been selfless, this one moment would be one of the only times you could allow yourself to be selfish. It would make things easier for your mother. Without the threat of you being killed by the Greens, she could finally torch everyone inside the Red Keep with her dragons.

You struggled to make it up on the railing, but you managed it. You breathed heavily as you looked down, the people below looking as small as ants. You would be okay, you decided. It was a long way down, you would be dead on impact. You smiled weakly as you thought it might feel like you were flying one last time. If not a dragonrider’s death, this would have to do.

You took one final deep breath before stepping off the ledge, expecting to feel the weightlessness of freefall, only it never came.

You were suddenly pulled back violently, falling to the floor of the balcony, your back hitting something hard, but it wasn’t the concrete. You struggled against whoever thwarted your attempt to take your own life, until you saw the briefest flash of long white hair, grazing past your face lightly. “Let me go!” You growled.

“I meant it when I said I’d never let you go.” Aemond spoke quietly, holding you in his arms as tightly as he could without hurting you. “Or did you not remember?” Oh, you remembered alright, how could you not? “I must say, I am quite disappointed that you’d try to leave like this. To kill yourself and possibly our unborn child?” He clicked his tongue in disapproval, but there was an undertone in his voice that made it seem like he was actually upset.

“I’m not pregnant.” You snapped as sharply as you could, feeling your body begging you to give up and give out.

“The maester will be the judge of that. He’s on his way. I’ll make sure you stay alive until then, dear niece.”

Yet again, you were taken back to your bed, your uncle sitting in a chair next to the bed and watching you like a hawk. It was unnerving, to say the least. You kept looking up at the ceiling as sweat kept beading on your forehead, the pain in your abdomen forcing tears in your eye that cascaded down the side of your face. You’ve never missed your mother more. All you wanted was her by your side, to hear her call you her sweet girl one more time, to feel her kiss your forehead in that motherly way only she could. You whimpered as you tried to hold back a sob, curling your fingers into your palm tightly, trying to think of anything else but home.

You flinched as Aemond took your hand, unballing your fist and simply holding it gently, occasionally running his thumb over your knuckles. “Don’t worry, the maester’s due any minute now.” It was so unlike him, to be somewhat reassuring and nice. Did seeing you in utter agony finally thaw his ice cold heart?

“Please, let me go…” You whispered weakly, your voice breaking pitifully.

“No.” He answered.

“What will happen if I am with child, Aemond? I’m sure your mother won’t be too happy about that. She’ll probably kill me herself.” You winced as he squeezed your hand tightly in warning, glaring at you before sighing.

“Do you really think her to be that cruel?”

“You have to get in from somewhere, right?” You gasped as he ripped his hand from yours roughly, standing up to pace with his arms behind his back.

“Must you be so stubborn? I am here trying to be nice and you’re behaving like an ungrateful wretch.” He ranted, his voice threatening to rise but never doing so. He was always skilled at keeping his composure, but you could see how his body tensed and every minute microexpression gave way how much he desired to shout at you.

You scoffed. “I’m sorry if I’m having difficulty letting my guard down in front of my kidnapper.”

“Believe it or not, you are much safer here than you’d ever be at Dragonstone.”

“I don’t care how safe I might be here, I want to go home. I want to be with my family.”

“You are with your family.”

“You don’t treat your family with such hostility. You don’t force your family to take out their own eye. You don’t take away your family’s birthright when it wasn’t theirs to take.”

Aemond chuckled darkly. “You’re one to talk, niece. You took my eye over an insult.”

“You were going to kill my brother.”

“You know I never would have gone through with it. I was a child.”

“And so was I.”

“And then your mother wanted me tortured after you maimed me. My own sister. And don’t tell me she said I was to be sharply questioned. What do you suppose that means, hm? You know, she never once treated me like her own flesh and blood. Nor Aegon, or even Helaena. She never treated us like we were her family. We were always just Alicent’s children. That’s all. Do you think we never wanted a relationship with our own sister? All this was Rhaenyra’s doing, you’d be a fool to not see that. You hold her up on a pedestal, you think she can do no wrong.” Aemond sighed, shaking his head. “If we really were her family, this never would have happened in the first place.”

You wanted to continue the conversation, so badly, but your body simply did not allow it. You let out a soft groan as your throbbing head lolled back, hitting the soft pillows beneath you. You felt like you were going to throw up again, but nothing came up. It didn’t take but a moment until Aemond was back beside you, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. You heard the doors to your chambers open, the sound of voices and footsteps growing distant until you blacked out.

Aemond hated how worried he was. He wanted to stop his feet from forcing him to pace back and forth outside your doors, the maester inside working to figure out what was happening to you. 

You had shown symptoms of being pregnant, but what if it was something else? Would that be better or worse? Alicent had reprimanded him so harshly for bringing you to King’s Landing, Aemond didn’t even know if she would agree to marry them. So if you were with child, it would be a bastard, just like you.

Aemond growled in frustration as the maester took his sweet time in your quarters, then flinching slightly when his mother appeared in front of him. “How is she?” Alicent asked, her voice barely above a whisper, like she feared she’d distract the maester if she spoke any louder even though he was on the other side of a door.

“She was burning up, passed out as soon as the maester arrived.” 

Aemond tried not to look worried, more inconvenienced, but Alicent’s motherly instincts, what little she had, could tell he was more upset that he led on. “I’m sure she’ll be alright.” She smiled reassuringly.

Aemond hummed. “Her mother wouldn’t be too pleased if she dies in our care, surely. Has she written back with an answer yet?”

Alicent shook her head. “No. But I know her. She would do anything to protect her children, so I’m hopeful.” They each turned their attention to the maester who exited your room. “What news?”

“I’m afraid the flesh around her eye is infected. We will need to cut away the infected flesh and keep her under our watch around the clock to make sure it doesn’t get infected again. I am hopeful that she will be okay, but we need to get her to surgery immediately.”

“Of course, maester. Do whatever you need to do.”

The surgery was long and tedious, but you made it out okay. The Queen mother had maids rotate out every few hours to keep watch on you, the maester visiting every several hours to check on your bandages and making sure to keep the wound clean. You were asleep all the while, constantly being given milk of the poppy to keep you under and pain free. Not that you’d ever know, but you were in the prayers of Alicent and Helaena, despite being the daughter of the enemy. Aegon couldn’t care less, he thought it was idiotic to keep you alive. But Aemond, he was never seen far from your chambers. He’d visit to see how you were fairing every so often, but he never stayed very long. It wasn’t until the third day of recovery that he stayed in your room more often.

Being addled on milk of the poppy, you had no clue what was going on around you. It was hard to care either way. But sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night and you would see Aemond sitting in a chair near the fireplace, reading a book and simply just staring into the flames, then you’d pass out yet again. It became a comfort of sorts to find Aemond in your room, you’d rather it be him than anyone else. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, but you slowly started to not see him as a devil. After that conversation you had with him before your surgery, you started to feel bad for him, despite him being the reason you only had one eye now. Although, now that you knew what it was like, it had made you understand him and his motivations a bit more.

After a couple more days, you were starting to be weaned off milk of the poppy. Your head ached and your wound throbbed, but you were glad you were conscious again. But the more conscious you became, the less you saw of Aemond. You were surprised that you actually felt sad by that. This man had kidnapped and violated you, you should’ve been happy to have some space from him. Now you just felt lonely again. You were back to only seeing your maids faces, now the maester every other day. But you were now able to get up and walk around, as long as you didn’t push yourself. You couldn’t even if you wanted to, but now your balcony doors were barred. Aemond must’ve told everyone what had happened, the thought embarrassed you more than it should have.

You were trying to unbar the balcony doors one night, not to jump this time, but you missed the breeze. But you were stopped when your doors opened loudly, causing you to jump and turn around to see… “Aegon?”

“Niece!” The usurper king grinned. “So glad to see you’re up and about, you look healthier than ever. You gave us all a fright you did.”

“You’re drunk, what a surprise.”

“Hey, you’d be drunk all the time if you had to be king too, or, er, queen.”

You rolled your eye, crossing your arms to protect your modesty. “What are you doing here, Aegon?”

“King.” He corrected.

“Not to me.” You snapped, making him frown and send a glare your way.

“Disrespectful cunt.” He mumbled, stumbling towards a chair and taking a seat rather ungracefully.

You probably should’ve been extra cautious around Aegon, even more so since he was drunk, but you had a hard time being afraid when he looked so pitiful. You stepped towards him, kneeling down beside him with the most condescending expression you could muster. “Maybe I’d have more respect if you weren’t a drunken entitled man child that steals his own sister’s throne. You will be a worse king than Maegor the Cruel.”

Despite Aegon being completely wasted, he grabbed a hold of your neck like he was sober, standing up and forcing you up with him, the tightness around your neck making your head spin. “How dare you speak to your king that way?” He spat, his other hand slapping your face and squishing your jaw. “You wish to know true cruelty? Perhaps I shall bring you to my chambers tonight? One night with me and you’ll be on your knees praying that the Stranger comes and takes you away. Or would you enjoy that? Your mother is a whore, maybe the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? I’ve always wondered what you’d feel like around my cock. I’ve talked to my brother about it, I thought he’d be man enough to come take your maidenhead. But you’re quivering like a leaf right now, maybe I was wrong. I guess my brother is still that little boy who couldn’t stand up for himself. No matter. Your king will take you. You should be honored.”

You quickly bit Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, hearing him let out a satisfying yelp, feeling his harsh grip on you release enough so that you could push him away. “You’re vile!” You yelled, keeping a chair in between you and the drunken man.

Aegon laughed, running his hands through his greasy hair. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you…much. Hey, how about this, I’ll forgive your treachery and let you live if you let me take your virginity?”

“Aemond already took it, you fool.” You scowled.

“Oh!” He grinned darkly. “How about that? Guess I don’t have to be gentle with you after all.”

“No, no!” You screamed as Aegon kicked the chair away from you, grabbing you and dragging you to your bed, although with a bit of a struggle due to his drunken state. “Let me go, you lecherous perv!”

Aegon’s mischievous smile quickly dropped as he felt cool steel be placed at the juncture of his neck, the metal already lightly scraping his skin and forcing blood to trickle down his skin. “You heard her. Let her go.” You let out a quiet sigh of relief as Aemond came into view, his dark eye burning into the back of Aegon’s head.

“Brother, you know I could have your head for this?” Aegon growled.

“Not much a king can do if he’s dead.” He said as he pressed the dagger against his skin with more pressure, causing Aegon to hiss in pain as his skin sliced open easily. He rolled his eyes as he let you go, pushing you off of him and onto the bed, Aemond quickly pulling his brother to him. 

“I heard you took her maidenhead. I didn’t think you had it in you, brother.” Aegon smirked, even with the dagger to his throat.

“I will only say this once so you would do well to listen, brother. She is mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Mine, and only mine. Understand?” Aemond spoke lowly, his eye seemingly staring into Aegon’s soul.

Aegon frowned in annoyance as he held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. She’s all yours.” But Aemond kept his blade out and pointed at his brother until he was completely out the door, only sheathing it when the doors closed.

“Are you alright?” Aemond spoke, his back facing you.

You resisted the urge to ask why he suddenly cared. “Yes…thank you.”

He hummed. “I’ll be right outside your door tonight. Just in case he comes back.”

“You…” You hesitated, completely sure that this was a bad idea, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “You don’t have to. You can stay in here…if you’d like.” You cringed at how awkward you must’ve sounded, but if you did Aemond didn’t notice or care.

“How’s your eye?” He asked as he took a seat in one of your chairs, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable.

“Fine, it doesn't hurt anymore thankfully.” He nodded. The silence was deafening, and you didn’t know if you could handle it all night. But you didn’t know if that’s what he preferred. “Did I worry you much?” You joked, although it came out more serious than you intended. He didn’t look amused. You looked down to hide your frown, picking at your nails with a sigh. “Has there been any word from my mother?”

“No.” He responded curtly.

“What you told me the other night…I didn’t know any of that, how my mother treated you. I knew she didn’t have the best relationships with you all, or any at all. But I never thought she disliked any of you. She never spoke ill of you, she rarely spoke of you at all, so I guess I just assumed that nothing was wrong.” You shrugged. “She’s always been so loving, not just to me and my brothers, but everyone I’ve seen her interact with. You were right…I put her on a pedestal. I couldn’t see her faults. I’m…I’m sorry she treated you all that way. Siblings are supposed to look out for each other.”

Aemond’s expression was unreadable, like it often was. You looked away before you could embarrass yourself further.

“You shouldn’t apologize for the sins of your mother. Like I said before, it was her own doing. But now, she has the opportunity to make things right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” But Aemond only shook his head. You decided not to push him further. “Did you hope that I’d get pregnant?”

Aemond seemed shocked by your blunt question, but shrugged with a frown. “It would’ve made things easier perhaps. It would’ve forced my mother to marry us, and give Rhaenyra more incentive to bend the knee.”

You chuckled bitterly, shaking your head. “Do you want to marry me that badly?” You joked.

“Would it be so terrible?” He asked seriously, forcing you to actually think about it. “Or do you truly want your mother to kill us all? Do you want this war to happen?”

“No…of course not. I never wanted this to happen.” You exhaled shakily, finding it hard to relax under Aemond’s intense gaze. “If there’s even a chance anything could stop this war without bloodshed, I would do it.”

“Truly anything?”

You had a feeling where he was leading with that question, but you took the bait anyway. “Yes. Anything.” You tensed as Aemond lifted himself off his chair, taking a seat on the bed right beside you, his body heat radiating off of him and enveloping you. Goosebumps rose all over your body as he caressed the side of your face with the back of his hand, his eye gazing into yours. “Aemond-”

“Marry me.” He cupped your jaw, keeping you facing him. “You said you’d do anything. Your mother might give up if you agree. So, marry me, be my wife.”

“And if she doesn’t bend the knee?” You whispered.

“She will if she truly cares for you. Will you risk it?”

You took a deep breath, leaning forward to seal your fate with a kiss. “Yes. I’ll marry you…”

Aemond grinned before capturing your lips in another kiss, feeling his neediness and longing through him. You felt like a traitor yourself as you gave in to him, allowing yourself to want and need. Your mother would be so disappointed in you, but you truly thought it would be best for the kingdom and your family. You wondered if she’d actually bend the knee, or would she call you a traitor as well? You tried not to dwell on it. All you wanted right now was Aemond, to feel him all over your body, to feel him at the apex of your thighs that was already throbbing with desire. 

You didn’t realize you were crying until Aemond pulled away with furrowed brows, wiping away your fallen tears with his thumb. “It’ll be okay.” He whispered, turning you on your back, settling himself in between your legs, keeping one arm propped up so he wouldn’t crush you. But that’s exactly what you wanted.

Aemond let out a noise of surprise when you pulled him down on you, his body completely covering you. Your heavy breaths mixed with each other, your kisses getting sloppy and rough. It wasn’t enough. Even when you had removed each other’s clothes, you still didn’t feel close enough.

You pushed Aemond’s head down your body, sighing heavily as he trailed kisses down your torso until he reached your pelvis, looking up at you hungrily through a heavy lidded eye. “Shall I taste you, princess?” He teased with a smile, spreading your legs as far as they could go and planting sloppy kisses on your inner thighs.

“Please, my prince.”

You whined as Aemond licked up your folds, gathering the wetness that had already pooled at your entrance. He took his time, slowly running his tongue through your slit over and over until you huffed with desperation. “You taste divine. I should’ve done this before. What a fool I was.” You moaned as he whirled the tip of his tongue in circles around your clit, gripping your hips to keep you from bucking against his mouth.

“Seven hells…” You gasped as he closed his lips around your sensitive nub to suckle on it while slowly pushing one of his fingers inside you, curling the digit rhythmically. “Aemond, fuck!” What a fucking traitor you were, delighting in the feeling of the enemy. But you couldn’t help it, the way he so expertly pleased you, being a traitor never felt so good.

Soon enough, Aemond added another finger, stretching you out preemptively, the lewd squelching sound coming from your cunt making your cheeks heat up like you had just stuck your face in an oven. But it was so erotic, even Aemond moaned at the sound, the vibration from his lips making you squeal softly. Though, it ended far too early in your opinion. You watched with parted lips as he came up for air, licking his slick coated lips with a smirk, crawling back up to kiss you hungrily.

You could feel his heavy cock poke at your entrance, making you clench in anticipation. Aemond didn’t even have to guide himself, he just slowly sank into you, both of you letting out loud gasps. He kept eye contact with you as he pushed in inch by inch, kissing all over your face whenever you winced or let out a soft cry, shushing you and trying to get you to relax around him. Even with foreplay, you didn’t know if you would ever get used to his size. But you were thankful he helped you adjust unlike last time. This time, he was sweet and attentive. You wondered where that side of him came from.

“Fuck…” Aemond groaned, finally bottoming out and stilling inside you. “You feel just as heavenly as the first time we lay together, beautiful.” You whimpered as the praise went straight to your core, making him hiss as you pulsed around him. “You can’t do that to me, princess. I want to take my time with you tonight.”

You let out a silent gasp as Aemond thrusted a couple times shallowly, trying to maintain his composure and be as gentle as possible until he settled into a slow but deep pace. You felt so full, his intense eye contact sending a shiver down your spine while the tip of his cock brushed up against that sweet spot inside you. He forced his arms underneath you, pulling you as close to him as possible, holding your back and pressing his chest against yours, like a horizontal hug. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, pulling him deeper as he placed soft kisses on your skin, then turning his head to face you and kissing your cheek.

Feeling his breaths fanning across the side of your face, you turned your head to look at him, unable to restrain yourself from kissing him. You moaned wantonly as he sped up his thrusts slightly, angling his hips so he could hit that spot inside you over and over again. It was so intimate, the close proximity and sensuality of it all. Too much and not enough, but you gave all control over to Aemond. You didn’t trust him, it would take a long time for you to be able to trust him, but something told you he wouldn’t hurt you, not again.

You felt your orgasm build up gradually, each thrust of Aemond’s hips bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but you both didn’t rush, he wasn’t allowing that. But it almost made it better. You weren’t foolish enough to call it romantic, nothing about you and Aemond’s relationship was romantic, not yet at least; but in different circumstances, you could say this was romantic love making. The way he was looking at you made butterflies swirl in your stomach, like you were the only woman in King’s Landing. You hated how special it made you feel.

Your heavy panting echoed throughout the room as Aemond lifted himself up to reach down between the two of you to rub your clit slowly, kissing you languidly and swallowing every single one of your moans. “That’s it…” He moaned. “Come for me, princess.” It didn’t take any more encouragement, you were already so close, able to obey him immediately. Your orgasm wasn’t overpowering; it was slow and gentle much like Aemond’s thrusts and fingers, but it still raised goosebumps all over your body and hardened your nipples as it washed over you, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

Aemond kept up that slow and deep pace, sucking and biting each of your nipples, eliciting an overstimulated whine from you. “My pretty girl…my beautiful girl.” He whispered, kissing your forehead as he sped up his thrusts, grabbing your wrists and pinning them beside your head. “Mine…mine.” You let out a cry as he rutted against you faster and faster, jolting your body with each thrust, but he silenced you by kissing you, keeping his lips pressed against yours until his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. Aemond let out a low groan as he stilled inside you, his eye rolled to the back of his head as he coated your walls with his cum. He collapsed on top of you with heavy panting breaths, kissing along your collarbone as he came down from his high. “Are you okay?” He asked softly.

“Yes, Aemond. That was…lovely.” You smiled in exhaustion, quietly giggling to yourself as he rolled off you and laid down against the bed dramatically. “Will you stay this time?”

“If you wish.”

“I do.”

“Then here I’ll remain.”

It was hard to keep you and Aemond apart after that night. He was more gentle and protective over you. It took some time getting used to his affection, but there came a point when you didn’t think about how you had to be with him out of duty, like you were just a pawn in this war game. You started to enjoy his company. It didn’t take much convincing to get Alicent to agree to marry you to Aemond, seeing his infatuation for you and how it might turn the tide in their favor.

You had to send a letter to your mother about your betrothal to your uncle, which terrified you. The word traitor echoing in your mind over and over again. You knew Daemon would not take it well, knowing him. But you prayed to the Seven that your mother would call off the war, for the sake of your family and the whole kingdom.

You almost couldn’t believe it when Aemond came to you with a huge grin on his face, informing you that your mother had bent the knee for the sake of the realm, accepting Aegon’s terms if only she could attend your wedding. She did not want to rule over ash and bone, she wouldn’t be a good ruler if she went to war, knowing there would be a limitless amount of casualties if she went through with going to war. She just wanted to see her daughter again. 

A wave of relief washed over the entire Red Keep at the news, Alicent seeming even more overjoyed than you were.

The wedding would take place in a few days. You were excited for more than a few reasons. You would see your family again, Alicent having them come over by ship. And when you were a little girl, you always dreamed of having one of those fairytale weddings like most. It would be drastically different, but it excited you nonetheless. Aemond seemed to feel the same, relieved and overjoyed, but he only showed it when he was alone with you.

You finally felt at ease, like everything was going to work out.

Then came the night before the wedding, you felt the nerves flowing through your body. It had just now hit you that you were going to be marrying Aemond, in front of hundreds of people including your family. You weren’t one to get stage fright, but Seven Hells, you were frightened.

A knock on your door cut your thoughts short, calling out for whoever to enter your chambers. You relaxed when it was only Aemond, silently entering your room with a small smile. “I thought the groom wasn’t supposed to see the bride the night before the wedding.” You teased.

“I’m not superstitious.”

“No, you wouldn’t be. But, why have you come?”

“I have a gift for you. A wedding present.”

“Before the actual wedding?”

“Yes.” He chuckled, motioning for you to take a seat on the end of your bed. You waited with bated breath as he pulled out a small box, handing it to you tentatively. “Go on, open it.”

You carefully opened the little box, gasping at the contents inside. “Aemond…” You whispered, you looked at him in shock. It was a beautiful sapphire, very much resembling the one that replaced his own eye.

“The maesters said that your wound has healed enough that it could hold a gem comfortably. I chose the sapphire, but if you prefer something else, I can-”

“Aemond.” You interrupted him tearfully. “It’s beautiful. Perfect. I love it.”

“Only the best for you, my love.”

You never thought your life would end up this way. You never thought the situation you found yourself in would end happily, you thought it would end painfully and messy, but it didn’t. You were about to be married to someone you had grown to deeply care about. You were reunited with your family who supported you and loved you just the same as they had before. You finally felt that motherly love you had been craving these past couple months. 

As the wedding finally started, everyone in the audience whispered amongst themselves as you walked in, your long flowing white dress dragging along the floor, and a bright blue sapphire in your empty eye socket. You and Aemond stood in front of each other with big smiles on your faces, looking at each other like you two were the only people in the room. You looked at your family, seeing their smiles of approval, making you feel at peace more than you ever have in your life.

After saying your vows, swearing to honor and cherish each other before the Seven, you both sealed the engagement with a passionate kiss. You pulled away as everyone clapped and cheered, each other’s sapphire’s shimmering in the light and reflecting off each other.

The two of you truly looked like you were made for each other.

I"M SUCH A SUCKER FOR A HAPPY ENDING I"M SORRY I COULDN"T HELP MYSELF

tag list: @drawing-kitty1, @candypurplebutterfly, @siriusdumblittlepuppy, @chromesunbeams

i think i drooled on myself a little bit

Little Witch

HERE WE FUCKING GO! The hype behind this fic has been PHENOMENAL! But here’s the Osferth fic I promised you all. After all the teasers and crumbs I gave you from this, you should be pretty hype!

This fic reached 9k words! I went overboard with it and I regret NOTHING.

Warnings: SMUT (obviously), loss of virginity (osferth), A bit of angst, oral (both), breeding kink, talks of marriage, talks of 69…, Just Osferth being Osferth

Your wrists were bound together by rope that was currently being held tight by one of the men that had taken you hostage. You forgot his name. Sihtric, maybe? You could care less. You were just grateful that the men had stopped for the night and had you sitting by the fire with them.

“So, witch, why is Haesten so enamored with you?” asked the leader of them all, Uhtred.

“I do not know. Haesten stole me from my home where I was at peace, minding my own business. He had no right to take me, same as you.” you spat, venom dripping from the words you directed at your captor. He sighed heavily.

“If you think I wanted to take you, then you are wrong, witch. This is only a necessary precaution. But I know that Haesten would not take you for no reason. What exactly are your powers?”

“Stop calling me ‘witch’, Dane killer. I have a name. Y/N. Use it.” you barked before looking up at the stars and letting your voice soften.“I see things. That is why he took me.”

Keep reading

This was absolute PERFECTION. I will be a tradwife for Aemond and only Aemond. I will continue to think about this all week🥵

𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 | aemond targaryen x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | these were the only times he showed you any affection— when others were watching. when his reputation was at stake. but as eyes from around the room fell on you as you danced, you swallowed down a lump in your throat as you wondered if they could see it all: the truth, that is. separate bedrooms, sparse conversations, silent meals. {aka, an arranged marriage with aemond that’s not as loveless as it seems, once he’s forced to admit how he really feels…}

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 9.4k (WHOOPS)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (virginity loss with some pain due to aemond being… very gifted, breeding kink ft. breeding press, emotional sex, the slightest dubcon if you squint but trust me it's wanted), arranged marriage, angst, the love isn’t unrequited they’re just idiots, innocent reader, slight infidelity (reader has essentially an emotional affair with a stark!oc), touch starved reader and also touch starved aemond but at the same time cocky aemond lol, reader is insanely whipped for aemond (aka self-insert lmao jk but really tho), slight housewife kink? but really just very old school/traditional views of marriage, reader is implied to be some kind of royal but no mentions of her house or origins or appearance

You knew Aemond hated these sorts of things, but you loved them.  You loved that he had to treat you like a wife for the evening— putting his hand on your shoulder or waist, smiling at you, talking about you to other guests…

Maybe that was the same reason that he hated them.  You really couldn't tell; but on nights like this, you just basked in the fantasy, in the joy of putting on this show for the others so they wouldn't know how loveless and empty your marriage really was.

The banquet was, all things considered, rather uneventful.  You didn't make much conversation, opting to stay firmly planted at your husband's side until he invited you to dance.  He disliked dancing, too, but he was decent at it; you couldn't stop smiling when he took your hand so gently, guiding you to the centre of the room.  His gracefulness and stoic nature reminded you of how you thought of him when you met him for the first time.

You remembered returning home after your first visit, knowing the courtship would be brief for a political marriage and that your next visit would probably be permanent.  You spent the night telling everything to your friends, giddy with romantic glee.  What's he like? they asked.  They say the one-eyed prince is strange— but maybe they all are…

You clutched your hands to your chest as you answered: he's shy, you said, and reserved— mysterious!  But I know he has a kind heart, if only he'll let me near to it.  He took my hand and kissed it… just the way he looked at me as he did made my heart jump!  He's handsome, I think, if in a strange way— he doesn't look anything like the men here.  But I like that…

And they all swooned, going on about how lucky you were, fantasising with you about how romantic it would be when he showed you his true nature and fawned over you as his new wife.

For a dragon, for a man made in fire, he was so cold— frozen solid, right down to his heart.

These were the only times he showed you any affection— when others were watching.  When his reputation was at stake.  But as eyes fell on you as you danced, you swallowed down a lump in your throat as you wondered if they could see it all: the truth, that is.  Separate bedrooms, sparse conversations, silent meals (when you ate together at all, which became rarer over time).

Nearly eight months into marriage, with no pregnancy, you knew there were rumours already about why no children were on the way.  The kindest of them spoke that Aemond didn't desire children and had you on a strict regimen of preventative elixirs and teas; the harshest alleged that you couldn't satisfy him, couldn't interest him, or couldn't bear for him at all.  

Worst of all, you weren't sure which of those were true yourself.  He never told you if he wanted children, or if he had a lover already, or if he was like his brother— spending night after night in whorehouses.

You didn't know him at all, really, and it made your eyes sting at the dance came to an end.  He let go of your hand to clap for the end of the song like the other dancers, and you knew it could be weeks before he touched you again.  You bowed your head and hoped he wouldn't see your eyes getting watery.

When you looked up again, Aemond's attention was elsewhere as a Lord visiting from far away approached him to make conversation; but another set of eyes were upon you, those of the Lord Stark seated across the hall.  His stare was dark, but warm, and you glanced away quickly.  

"Excuse me," you offered quietly to your husband and his conversation partner, who nodded at you to dismiss you before you left.  Making your way to the doors, you saw Stark standing from his chair in the corner of your eye as you passed.

Leaving the party, you walked far enough that you suspected no one else would come by— no one else that wasn't looking for you, that is.  And only one man would come looking for you… 

He did, as you suspected; you waited under a sconce until you heard footsteps behind you.  You turned to face him, and part of you imagined, still, that it would be your husband standing there.  Why did you leave, dear wife?  Wouldn't you like to dance with me again?

He probably didn't even know you were gone.  Instead, you stared at the man standing before you.  "Lord Stark," you greeted with a polite curtsy.

"You may desist the pleasantries," he smirked, full lips surrounded by dark brown stubble on his face, approaching you with a gentle touch to your arm.  "We are alone, my lady."

Sighing, you watched his fingers pet the sleeve of your dress.  What would it be like if Aemond touched your arm, with his delicate touch and slender hands?  "That we are," you agreed softly.

"I've waited quite some time to see you again," Philip Stark said thoughtfully, and you smiled up at him shyly, "and I'm afraid you are even more beautiful than I remembered."

"And you are even more flirtatious than I remembered," you returned, making him laugh lightly.

"Quick-witted as always, my lady," he praised, "but it is not flattery— you know I truly adore you, don't you?  These nights are all I have to look forward to… though it does wound me to see you with him.  Especially now that I know how cruel he really is."

Yes, when you first encountered Philip in one of these empty hallways, you confessed more of the truth to him than you'd ever told anyone.  As embarrassing as it was, he never judged or shamed you; in fact, he apparently fell madly in love with you after that one conversation.  And now here he was, jealous that Aemond married you first, making you feel terrible for the way you entertained the interest of another man.

"I wanted to ask you for a dance," Philip admitted.  "Would you have accepted?"

"Of course," you beamed.

"Then I'll ask now," he decided, extending his hand to you as your eyes widened.

"But there's no music!" you protested.

"Can’t you hear it?” he grinned, making you knit your brows and try to listen more carefully.  With the doors to the main hall shut, you couldn’t hear anything.  “That’s what it’s like to be in love— you hear music when others don’t.”

As sweet as it was for Philip to imply he was in love with you, you had to laugh.  “I think that’s what it’s like to be insane!” you replied.

“The two are actually quite similar,” he winked as you took your hand and pulled you closer, squaring up to dance with you.

For a few moments, it was just that— dancing in the hallway with Philip to silent music.  It was fun, romantic even, and you laughed like you hadn’t in weeks.  And though you couldn’t quite call it a surprise, with the way he was looking at you, you felt a strange sense of disappointment when he kissed you. 

Disappointment because all you could think about as he kissed you was how different it felt from what you thought kissing Aemond would be like.

You'd put a lot of thought into it, actually, since you first met him.  Aemond’s lips seemed soft, and the few times you'd seen the tip of his tongue slip out to wet them as he was immersed in thought, you thought of him tasting your lips.  His touch was delicate and lithe, those thin fingers might tilt your head back so you would look up at him, or lightly tickle the small of your back.  He would be so careful with you, tender and patient as he was in all things, he would savour every moment that your body was pressed to his…

Philip was exactly the opposite in every way.  His stubble scratched against your face, reminding you what you were doing and who you were doing it with.  His kiss was aggressive and hungry, his tongue prying into your mouth as he hummed in delight and pulled you closer by your hips.

It took all your strength, physical and metaphysical, to push him away.  "I can't… my husband—" you began.

"You told me yourself that he ignores you," he sighed, tightening his grip on you to keep you close.  "Didn't you say that you thought he was having an affair of his own?"

"W-well, I'm not sure— I just imagine he must be, since he's never… since we never…"

He growled slightly, leaning in to kiss your neck as you shivered.  "I still can't believe it," he mumbled.  "That the prince has a beautiful wife all to himself and never once bed you.  What a waste that is— you deserve to be pleasured, my love…"

You wanted so much to give into it, to let him take you now and finally know what you'd been waiting so long for.  You wanted it more than anything— to be loved, desired, cherished.  But you still gasped and pushed him away again when he started to grab at your dress.  "I saved my purity for my husband," you reminded him with a frown.

"And you still have it!" he snapped.  "Isn't it time to give it to someone who wants it?"

You'd told him yourself that your husband didn't care for you, and yet it stung horribly to hear Lord Stark say it so plainly.  You dropped your head and bit your shaking lip, sniffling as he awkwardly tried to recant what he'd said.

"I-I've offended you— my apologies— but it is him that should feel guilty, not you," Philip insisted.  "He's mad to treat you in such a way… he should desire you, I can't imagine why he doesn't.  But he doesn't, that much we can both be certain of.  And I do— more than anything, I desire you.  I meant all that I said in my letter— and more.  I have dreamt of you every night since we first met, since you let me kiss your hand…"

The declaration of love was beautiful, and tender, but it was soured— for it all came from the wrong man.  It would be easier to run away with the Lord Stark and be his wife instead, let him give you all the things he promised.  But it was not duty that kept you bound to Aemond… it was devotion; real, pure devotion.

You interrupted the Lord's imploring speech by resting your hand tenderly on his cheek.  He sighed, shutting his eyes and savouring your touch.  "My lady," he whispered reverently.

"I am truly sorry, my Lord," you breathed.  "You are handsome, and gentle— and any lady should be so lucky to have your heart, for it is truly kind and just.  But—"

"But you can only love him," Stark finished with a sneer, jerking away from you dejectedly.  

"I wish I didn't," you admitted with a whimper as you started to cry.  "I wish I was the sort of woman who could ignore my marriage and abandon my husband and just love you, but—"

"Say no more," he interrupted firmly.  "I see now that you never felt for me as you said you did.  You only liked that I gave you the attention your husband does not."

Well, that was sort of true, but it still hurt.

"No wonder he hates you— he knows how wicked you are!"

You reached out for the man but he had already turned to leave you; you wanted to plead for just one more embrace from him, so it would be longer before you forgot how it felt to be held.  But you, apparently, had a single shred of dignity left… or maybe it was just that you were crying too hard to speak.

Crumpling to the floor, you leaned against the stone wall, hearing the sounds of the party grow louder for a moment as the doors to the banquet hall opened again.  The sounds of merriment and joy felt distant, not just because they were literally far away— you had so few joys left already, and one of them had just tossed you aside with impatience and disgust.

When the evening concluded and you were alone in your bed across the castle, you dreamt that Aemond found one of Philip's letters to you; that he read it and confronted you, admitting he was livid to imagine another man stealing you away.  In your dream, Aemond's anger revealed his true lust for you, and he asserted his claim over his wife by violently taking you right there in your bed, all the while swearing to never even let anyone else look at you again. 

It may have sounded like a nightmare to anyone else, but you would accept any interest from Aemond by now— you wouldn't struggle or resist him, too good of a wife to ever deny your husband.  But that was hardly something you had to worry about: you'd never have to deny him, because he'd never want you.  Realising this for the hundredth time hurt just as much as the first; you wept into your pillow for the rest of the night.

~

"What is it that you hate so much about me?" you asked, voice wavering even though you'd imagined being so tough when you finally confronted him.

You hadn't woken up that day planning to ask him that.  You'd woken up that day melancholy as you knew it was your eight month wedding anniversary— and you knew that Aemond didn't care.  He didn't join you for breakfast, and you thought about taking your meal to the terrace to look out at the garden while you ate, but then you thought you'd better just wait for him at the table in case he came late and gave you a kiss on the head as he passed by to his seat.

Of course, he did not.  You didn't see him before lunch, either— or at lunch!  That was when your heartbreak shifted into anger.  If he wanted to be aloof, fine.  If he wanted to be in a purely political marriage without even consummating it, that was his right.  And if he didn't think children were necessary, being the second son and therefore not needing an heir, even though you longed to be less alone and have someone to care for here in this draughty old castle— you could live with all that.

But if he couldn't even think to say hello to his wife, either ignorant or uncaring that the twentieth of every month was another month gone by since the wedding, then he was worse than you realised.  Up until now he’d avoided you, sure, but he wasn’t… mean, except for avoiding you, which was mean in itself.  It made you think of what Philip said a few weeks ago— no wonder he hates you.

So, that was what compelled you to find Aemond in his chambers, swinging the doors open and blurting out your question.

He sighed, seeming annoyed, as he shut his book and looked at you.  Even after seeing firsthand how little he cares about you, part of you imagined he'd be offended when you asked that.  Hate you?  Darling, of course not!  You're my wife, aren't you?

But no, he only contemplated you with an unsurprised frustration as you stood there, shaking hands clenched into fists.  You spoke again when he still said nothing.  "I'd just like you to tell me, Aemond.  Tell me why you despise me so much."

He smiled— fucking smiled— as he tilted his head down and shook it.  "Haven't I done enough for you?  This is the thanks I get, when I try so hard to be kind to you?"

You choked on your gasp, tears falling down your face already even though you wanted more than anything not to let him see you weep.  "Is this what it looks like when you try?  I'd hate to see what happens when you just give in and show me how you really feel."

He scoffed.  "You would hate it," he agreed.

"You're so cruel…" you whispered, choking on a sob.  "How do you do that, Aemond?  How are you so horrible to me, without a second thought?"

That seemed to anger him properly, and he finally stood up as rage heated his face.  "How dare you come to my chambers and question me?  After all I've done for you—!"

"All you've done?" you repeated incredulously.  "Ignored and belittled me?  Treated me like a stranger, secluded me to another bedroom… are these your mercies?"

He seemed confused— an emotion you weren't used to seeing on him.  "Yes!" he answered, irritated.  "What more could you want?  I can't exactly have you living on another continent, can I?"

You blinked quickly, shaking your head at him.  "I— I don't understand…"

"I grant you all that, because I know this marriage was not your choice," he explained, like it was obvious.  "It wasn't mine either— we can at least be civil, and keep up appearances, for your honour and my own."

"Honour?  Aemond, the court believes I am barren!  I haven't the heart to tell them that you're disgusted by me!"

He stepped closer to you, the short distance making your heart race.  "Disgusted?  You may think me a monster, but I am only a man— even I know how beautiful you are."

Your throat caught.  He said it like you should know— but it was news to you, and it made your heart skip.  "If… if you think me beautiful, why— why did you never lay with me?  Even on our wedding night?" you asked, feeling your face warm to discuss something so crude.

"I'm not like my brother," he sneered.  "I have no desire to force myself on you…"

His eye darted to the side briefly.

"W-well, no intention, at least."

"Force?" you repeated, confused as you shook your head.  "Aemond, you're hardly making any sense…"

"I'm not making sense, am I?  Who are you to question me?  You act like a nice, obedient wife— you like to make them think of you that way, don't you?  But I let you live as you did before, as much as I can.  What more do you want, woman?!" he asked ragefully.

"I… want only for you to hold me," you admitted, voice breaking as you cried in earnest.  You felt like a child when he looked at you like this, even more so as you admitted your foolish desires.  "I want my husband to love me— I want him to touch and kiss me, and tell me that he can't live without me.  I want, even just for one day, to feel worthy of your love— fuck, just your attention!  Just your approval!"

He blinked at you, softening, and you almost jumped when his hand reached up to tenderly stroke the back of your arm.  "My wife…" he whispered, and your lips fell slack with a sigh.

He leaned in a bit closer then, reaching up to wipe a tear from the height of your cheek with his thumb.  In all the months you'd been married, in the weeks you courted, he'd never touched you so sweetly.

"I… I didn't want to hurt you," he promised, "or scare you.  I thought you—"

He lowered his voice again, shutting his eye, and you leaned in closer.

"I knew you couldn't love me," he whispered.  "You're so sweet and lovely— I'm scarred.  And you played the part well, but… I've seen that look before, when a lady is trying to be polite but is upset by the sight of me.  I understand."

You reached up to hold his face, biting your shaking lip.  “Aemond… I never— you’re beautiful.”

He turned away shyly, cheeks starting to tint in a way that only added to the beauty he was about to deny.  “I know you want to be a good wife, but your flattery is inconceivable.”

“I always thought you were handsome, my prince,” you promised, forcing him to look at you so he could see the earnestness in your eyes.  “And I don’t just want to be a good wife— I want to be your wife.”

"You always had my attention," he informed you.  "And you never lost my approval."

Overcome with joy, you threw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.  Though he seemed a bit stunned by your forwardness at first, he returned your hug; you could've sobbed when he embraced you.  It was all you'd ever wanted, and it was so simple: just the touch of your husband— just the warmth and strength of him, wrapped around you.

Squeezing your shoulders gently, he sighed beside your ear.  “You don’t need to be so excited,” he mumbled.

“Of course I’m excited,” you beamed, holding him even tighter.  “I thought you— do you really care for me?”

“Yes,” he assured, and you pulled back to look at his face, just in case he was obviously lying or something.  But he seemed genuine— actually, he seemed surprised that you didn’t believe him already.

"I won't believe you until you kiss me," you decided.  Smiling, he leaned closer and took one more long look at your face before pressing his lips to yours.

It was sort of like how you'd imagined that it would be, at first.  But in a moment, it was better than you could've ever thought.

It was needy.  You loved it; your husband needed you.  His kiss was still delicate and precise, yes, but filled with heavy sighs and hesitant attempts to pull you closer and press his body to yours.  It was teeming with all that suppressed hunger, like he was fighting every instinct so he wouldn't overwhelm you.  If only he knew he could do whatever he liked to you; if only you could make him let go and show his true self.

“I care for you,” he whispered into the kiss, almost so quiet you didn’t hear it… but you did, and you had to cling to his shoulders with your knees going weak.  He pulled away to speak to you more clearly, as much as you hated being away from that kiss again.  “I care for you too much to subject you to my presence.”

“Do you care for me too much to consummate our marriage?” you asked, catching the way his eye widened slightly while his grip at your waist tightened.

“Avoiding you was easier than resisting you,” he explained quickly.  “It’s… difficult, even now, holding you like this, and not—”

“I want you to,” you admitted, nearly whining as you clutched at his shirt to pull him closer.  “Since our wedding night— well, even before then, I wanted—”

"Don't," he pleaded, voice thin as he looked away.  "I… I won't be able to hold myself back…"

"Take me, husband," you begged.  "I— I waited for you all my life.  I need to feel you, to please you—"

He snarled a bit as he shut you up with a bruising kiss, holding your back tightly.

You hummed into it, feeling heat flood your face (and between your legs) as he kissed you so… shamelessly.  Your grip on him loosened, only because all of you went a little limp from the way his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you pressed your hands flat against the leather in hopes you could feel the warmth of his chest through it.  Unfortunately, you couldn’t, so instead you found your hand slipping between two of the fasteners of his tunic, fingers brushing against the bare skin underneath.  He pulled away from your lips, but you couldn’t seem to find the strength to pull your hand from his chest— his warm, porcelain skin—

"Your eagerness is unladylike," Aemond noticed with a pleased smirk.

"I-I am sorry, but I can't help it," you whimpered.  "I've longed for you— I've dreamt of you—"

"Shh, I know," he smiled softly, petting your hair as you leaned into the gentle touch.  "I quite like this desperation on you, anyways.  Be careful not to let me enjoy it too much, or I'll make you wait another eight months."

"No, please," you breathed, "you could hold me every day and I'd be just as eager, my prince."

He sighed just by your ear, even something that simple making you shiver.  "I'll do more than that— I'll never let you go.  I'll hold you for the rest of our lives.  Then will you be satisfied?"

Crying softly, you nodded and hid your face against his shoulder, sighing at the relief being close to him brought you.

He reached up slowly to help you unfasten the clothing that covered his upper body; watching him undress was just divine, in your opinion— every nimble motion of his fingers exposed a longer sliver of his torso until he shirked the tunic away from his shoulders and revealed himself to you.  Biting your lip, you graced your fingers over his chest, admiring how strong he was and how delicate his ivory skin felt; if it weren’t for how shockingly warm he was to the touch, you’d believe he really was porcelain.

“Do you wish to see me too, husband?” you asked shyly, fishing for a little eagerness from him as well.  He hummed as he leaned in to kiss your neck, reaching behind your back to unlace your gown as you held onto his arms.

“I apologise for how many breakfasts I missed,” he replied, not seeming to be a related statement at all until he went on.  “Seeing you in your dressing gown was becoming too much to bear… all I could do was imagine how you must look without anything to cover you.”

You smiled proudly, though you couldn’t for very long when his tongue teasing along your pulse made you gasp shakily.  “U-uncover me then," you pleaded, as if he wasn't already shedding you of the layers of your dress, down to the thin linen chemise underneath.  You were told from an early age that your body was meant for your husband's eyes only, and aside from the occasional lady's maid who helped you dress, you'd covered yourself in modest wear in order to preserve your own dignity and keep your promise to your future husband.  Maybe some would protest to such a stricture, but it seemed sort of romantic to you.  And now that you were finally here, with Aemond's fingers delicately shedding you of your last layer of clothing, it was more intimidating than you expected— but in a good way, mostly.  Really you were just scared that he wouldn't like what he saw; even if he said he was affected by the sight of you in your nightgown, he knew nothing of what laid beneath.

Taking a shaky breath, you held your arms out just enough for him to slide the thin fabric down, and the garment pooled on the floor at your feet.  

For a moment, you couldn't find the courage to look up at Aemond, just blinking down at the ground beneath you.  But soon, when he said nothing still, you worriedly glanced up to examine the expression on his face.

Before then, you wouldn't have known how to describe what lust looked like.  Well, you still couldn't describe it, but you knew it when you saw it.  And this?  That darkness in those icy eyes, that tightness in his jaw and the subtle smirk on his lips?  That was it. 

You shivered as he ran his hands over you, a pleasant sort of chill that made you clench inside.  You opened your mouth, about to ask him if you were pleasing to him, but he spoke first.

"Lay on the bed, wife."

You were, obviously, already very obedient.  But you may have never been as instantaneous in your obliging as that moment.  You were on your back on Aemond's bed in an instant, and he was atop you just a second later, kissing you again and breathing in deeply as his bare chest pressed to yours.

His hands returned to exploring you as his kiss became more and more overpowering; he was so warm, almost hot, pressed against you and it was simply the most perfect feeling.  You found your legs spreading naturally without much thought put into it, and in the same way, his hand just seemed to move down between them of its own accord, gently rubbing over your mound as you whimpered from the feeling.

"Are you truly untouched?" he whispered against your lips.

"Of course," you answered, "how could I not be?  You never touched me…" 

He hummed softly.  "I longed to," he admitted, "I imagined it…"

He delicately parted your folds with two fingers, making you shudder as his touch carefully discovered every detail of you.  "I-is it like you imagined?" you wondered.

"Even more lovely," he replied.  "You're so warm here, my love— are you warmer inside?"

You gasped loudly as he slid those fingers inside you.  "Shh," he soothed.  "It's only to prepare you."

Only to prepare?  I feel as if I'm being torn apart already! you thought.

"Soon you'll be ready to take me inside you," he whispered.  That was plenty of motivation to get through the pain, and he hummed contentedly as you pulsed inside, more of your arousal leaking out and threatening to leave a puddle on his bed.

"Will… will you keep your trousers on?" you wondered, as you looked down at where the pale skin stopped and the black leather began.

He seemed amused.  "I know you're not naïve enough to think we can consummate this marriage with my trousers on."

"N-no!  I mean—" you choked.  "I meant that… I'm naked, and you haven't taken them off yet."

He raised an eyebrow, curling his fingers inside you and watching your face twist.  "Are you that curious, my darling?" he mocked, leaning down to speak closely beside your ear.  "Would you like to see my cock, is that it?"

Well, it seemed that the time for shame was well past… so, you bit your lip and nodded slightly, feeling his kiss the side of your face quickly.

"Soon," he promised.  "It's easier to keep my patience this way."

Patience?  After this long, his concern is patience?

Of course, you couldn't quite understand yet what Aemond was truly concerned with— but you would soon enough.

As much as it had stung to be entered by something for the first time, you were whining in disappointment when he pulled those fingers out of you— until he brought them to his lips and stared forward at you darkly while he sucked your flavour from them.

When he had licked every drop from his skin, he smiled at you and put those wet fingers by your hole again— wiggling and twisting them to fit three inside as your back arched.

"It's too much," you warned, grabbing his wrist.  "Three is too many!"

"You'll need to take much more than three fingers, my darling," he chuckled.  His free hand grabbed yours and guided it to his erection, firm and hot even though the leather, helping you rub him as he sighed.  Your eyes went wide as you felt it, and he smirked at you.  "Do you see now?  You'll need to be prepared."

"Oh— my husband, you— are you sure it will fit?"

"Yes."

It wasn't as convincing as you'd hoped it would be.  It felt so thick, and you were afraid your sense of touch was deceiving you with the length of it!  Sure, you had no true point of reference having never even seen a man naked before, but you understand the mechanics of all this to find a sense of fear bubbling up in your gut.  Would it hurt you?  Would it break you?

And why did that idea, as terrifying as it should be, excite you a little bit?

Pulling him down into another kiss, you found yourself weaving your fingers into his hair, and when he pushed his fingers deeper into you again you couldn’t help but tug on the silver-y strands unintentionally.  You started to apologise, before the little wince he let out turned into a low groan that made your walls bear down on his fingers yet again.  And that made him sigh as he leaned down to kiss your neck, even biting on you just hard enough to make a whine escape from your throat.

“I should give you more time,” he admitted, “prepare you further, but… my patience is wearing thin, dear wife.”

“You don’t need patience with me, husband,” you assured, surprised by your own voice’s wavering as he kept filling you with his long fingers.  “Just… say that you love me.”

He smirked a little, and the pridefulness in his face made you feel sort of foolish— but you sort of liked it.  “I don’t know you enough to say that,” he replied.

Well, that wasn’t exactly your fault, was it?  And he had three fingers to the knuckles inside you, he certainly knew you better than anyone else!  “You don’t have to mean it,” you mumbled, “just say it…”

His free hand, attached to the elbow that he balanced himself on beside your head, lightly pet the line of your jaw as you blinked up at him.  “Say that you love me first,” he decided.

“I love you,” you replied instantly, “of course— I love you more than anything.”

Smiling wider, he closed the space between you and kissed you softly.  Only when your eyes fell shut did he answer in a whisper below his breath, “and I love you as well.”  It seemed like it might be too much for him to say it with his eyes open.

He took his hand away from you and reached down; excitement jumped through you like a shock when you realised he was removing the rest of his clothes.  It made the kiss suddenly much more… thrilling, less precise and more desperate as you grabbed onto his shoulders and felt his bare body lay fully on top of yours.

His hands ran up the back of your legs, holding them open wide for him, and his cock pressed against your waiting cunt; it was warm, that was the only word you could think of for it, and you moaned into his mouth as he just barely rocked his hips to slide himself over your slick folds.

Right as he held himself tightly, hissing softly between his teeth, and guided his thick and leaking tip to your opening, a second wind of hesitance startled you.

"Wait!" you blurted out, pushing him away just slightly by his shoulder.  You could tell by the fear in his eye that he thought you were about to renege on the whole thing, admit that he was right from the start and you were too afraid of him to go through with any consummation.

Instead, you reached up to the brown leather patch on his eye, gently caressing it.

"Let me see my husband," you pleaded.  "I know you don't like to show me— but I want to see you as you are."

You'd only seen him without the covering for a brief moment, on accident; a few weeks into the marriage you entered his chambers without permission, finding him without his shirt or patch, and he covered his face quickly to scold you for your rudeness.  You were much too flushed by the sight of his bare chest— that toned, pale torso with scars of the softest pink in a few places— to mind his sapphire eye much or his frustrated rant.  He could yell at you all he wanted if he did so in any state of undress!  You thought he had the most beautiful body— seeing more of it today only proved your suspicions correct— and as he took off his eyepatch now, you smiled as you finally saw your husband's face.

A moment later, your smile fell into a gasp and a cry as he pushed himself into you.  Head falling back onto the down pillow, you whined through your teeth as his cock filled you, and you dug your nails into his shoulders with more strength than you thought you had.  "I'm hurting you," he noticed.  "I tried to prepare—"

But as he pulled back, you reached down and held onto his hip.  "No!" you whimpered.  "Don't… don't stop.  The pain will fade, yes?  I— I want this so much, Aemond…"

He sighed, leaning down to kiss away a stray tear from your temple.  "I know— and you've waited long enough, haven't you?  My poor wife… I never wanted you to be lonely.  I only wanted to protect you."

"From what?"

"This."

He put his hand over your mouth and shoved the rest of his cock inside you, muffling your scream as he groaned in satisfaction.  He was so deep, and it burned to be stretched for the first time; you sobbed but wrapped your legs around his waist and tried to keep him inside.  Still, he started to move, and you shuddered and wept as the pain seemed to bloom from your cunt and crawl up your back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I can't— I can't stop now, and you feel so warm…"

He looked at your face, twisted in pain, and stared at the hand over your mouth with and heavy gaze.

"I don't want them to hear you.  No one should hear my wife but me— in her pleasure or pain."

Even as you shivered from the way it hurt, your heart sang to hear him call you his wife, and to be possessive of you in some way.

"You feel so perfect," he grunted, starting to fuck into you faster already.  "It won't always hurt like this— just a little longer, I know you can take it for me, can't you?"

You nodded against the pressure of his hand over your face, hoping he wouldn't mind the way you pierced your nails into his skin to try to cope with the pain— you’d feel terrible if you left any marks on such a beautiful form as his, but then again, wouldn’t it be sort of erotic?  Little half-moons carved into his white skin as a memory in the flesh, a way to claim him in return as he claimed you?  

Yes, actually, it would be wonderful— and so you held onto him tighter, and he certainly didn’t seem to mind.

Each time his hips collided with yours, your whole body rocked under him and his grip on the sheets beside your head tightened until they threatened to tear.  His breaths were fast and sharp as he moved, a lovely flush on his cheeks and his eyes shut (the scarred one only as much as it could be) as he chased his own ecstasy.  Even though it still stung for a few moments longer, you loved looking up through your teary eyes as watching him, feeling impossibly proud knowing you were pleasing your husband this way.

He knew something had changed when your grip on his shoulders relaxed and you exhaled a long sigh from your nose that tickled his hand over your mouth (which he took away to admire your face in this moment).  "Is it beginning to feel better?" he asked.

"Yes," you whimpered.  "Yes, yes, yes—"

He laughed softly.  "I heard you the first time," he soothed, "but you may say it as much as you like.  Say my name as well, love— it never sounded as nice as it does from your lips…"

"Aemond," you breathed.

It spurred him on even more, deeper thrusts making your back arch and moans jump from your throat quickly.  "Such precious sounds you make," Aemond noticed proudly.  "Have you never felt this way before?"

You shook your head, and a snarl of twisted pride ghosted over his face.  "Never— it feels— oh!"

He had leaned down to capture one of your hardening nipples between his lips, gently flicking at it with the very tip of his tongue until you jolted under him.  You hadn't even known of such a thing before, you didn't realise how sensitive you were there or how beautiful Aemond would look with his mouth latched onto your breast.  He switched back and forth between them, smiling occasionally when your moans grew louder or you gasped out his name at the feeling.  A long whine slipped out when he kissed his way up from your nipple to the curve of your neck, moving his hips harder and faster as his bent arms kept him balanced and caged you in.  “Tell me again,” he demanded in a pant, “how much you like this.”

“It’s— you feel so—” you choked, really trying to answer him but losing focus each time he filled you to the brim and rubbed against that one place that made everything light up inside you.  Your legs wrapped around his hips instinctively, and your toes curled, and you clung onto him as each thrust made your body— and mind— feel more and more beautifully helpless.  “It’s so… deep…”

He purred a little.

“It feels so good,” you finally decided to answer, knowing it wasn’t the most descriptive but not sure how else to put it.  “It feels amazing— you feel amazing… I don’t want it to ever end…”

His next sound was a hum of approval, and while it made you feel happy, you felt the urge to press for a more conclusive response.

“Does— does it feel— is it nice for you, too?” you panted out.  For all those attempts to ask that question, it still came out sort of needy and pathetic, but he found that amusing and smiled against your skin as he kissed beside your ear.

“Nice isn’t the word,” he admitted.  “There isn’t a word for how you feel, my darling.  The closest I can think of is perfect.”

You were just hoping for a small compliment; you didn’t expect him to so flippantly say something that romantic, even poetic.  

Just after you’d said you didn’t want it to end, he decided to stop and pull out of you.  The emptiness was jarring and disappointing; reaching out for him as he sat up, he smiled and gave your waiting hand a squeeze.  “Just a moment, my love.”

He sat up enough to lift your legs from around his hips, and hold them up as he pushed them against your upper body.  Just when you wanted to warn him that you may not be as flexible as he expected, he slipped his cock inside you again— and when you’d remarked before about how deep he was, you had no idea how this would feel.

Your whole body tightened up and your face twisted in a gasp.  “Is it too much for you?” he asked softly, the concern in his voice making your heart swell.  

“No, please— keep going,” you insisted, though your back had to arch when he slid the rest of the way inside and you swore the head of his cock was going to go into your stomach or something.  But it didn’t— it only stretched you to your absolute limits, a new sensation that wasn’t quite sharp enough to be pain but more powerful than you’d ever known pleasure to be.  You whimpered, but braced yourself, ready to give him anything he needed.

"My sweet wife, so devoted," he groaned as he pushed his hips as hard as he could into you, holding you steady to force his cock just that last little bit deeper inside until your eyes rolled back.  "You wanted so much to fulfil your marital duty— and look at you, taking it perfectly, even better than I imagined."

"You… you imagined this?"

Aemond laughed, heartily, at your question.  "Only every night," he replied quickly, "with my hand around my cock, wanting to call for you but barely resisting each time."

You would've been ecstatic if your husband had called for you in the middle of the night to soothe his aching need; even if he sent you away right after he was finished and went back to ignoring you, it would've made you feel like less of a complete failure of a wife.  

"I imagined more than this, though," he admitted.  "I imagined kissing you and tasting you and hearing you say how dearly you love me…"

That explained why he’d asked you to say it before.  You’d say it a thousand times if he asked— or, probably, even if he didn’t.

"I imagined you pregnant."

To say your heart skipped a beat was an understatement.  Your heart skipped so many beats that you might have been technically dead for a couple seconds— except that you felt more alive than ever.  There were a thousand things you’d like to say, but rendered totally speechless, all you could do was pant out his name weakly.

"We don't need to make any heirs," he reminded you.  "But I could give you a child, if you want one."

Your heart had never been so filled before— finally, your husband's child, inside you: it could really happen.  You'd longed to give him one (or many) since you met him and now… now you could finally bear him one.  "Yes," you whimpered, "Aemond— a baby, I want one so desperately…"

But then again, you'd wanted a baby so you wouldn't be so alone— someone to keep you company.  And now he was here, finally, and you didn't need to be alone anymore.

"I want us to— to be a family," you choked out, and you felt his smile against the side of your face.  

"We are," he whispered.  "Already, we are.  Husband and wife.  But, you would look divine carrying a son…"

You hummed contentedly at the praise, feeling his hand rub gently on your belly right where it would swell the most.

"Perhaps I will, then," he decided.  "Bless you with a child… if you'd like that."

He was taunting you, tricking you into begging him for it— and you didn't mind at all, happy to oblige.  "Yes!  Please, my husband, my prince— I long for it, let me have your son, please… if you give me your seed, I promise, I'll do all I can—"

"Shh," he soothed softly, "I know you will.  I know— such a good wife you are, a perfect wife…"

You felt warm tears run down your temples, all this devotion to him finally appreciated when you feared it would all go to waste.  Clinging tighter onto him, you tried to hide your face in the curve of his neck.  But he gently pried you away, cooing, "No, no— let me see you, let your husband gaze on you— oh, what a sweet face.  Shall I kiss your tears away?  All will be right, my love… you'll have our son.  And what a lovely mother you'll make."

Maybe it was a strange thing to push you right up to the edge— but you’d been approaching it for a while, that was just the moment you realised how close you really were.  The way he said it, you could somehow tell he’d thought for a while that you’d make a good mother for his children; maybe he thought that from the start, he must have if he agreed to marry you.  And at the same time that it filled your chest with pride, it made your gut burn with a need for something you couldn’t quite define but that you knew was incredibly close.

Apparently, he was in a similar situation, though much more aware of what it really was than you were.  “It won’t be much longer,” he promised.  “If you ask me, I will— are you sure it’s what you want?”

"Please, my prince," you whimpered as you held on tightly to the sheets.  "Please!  Give me your seed, please—"

"Fuck," he groaned, "once more—"

"Fill me, Aemond, with your child— I'll do anything, I want it so much, I want to be pregnant—"

"My name," he hissed, shutting his eyes tightly as his thrusts became erratically fast.  "Say my name again."

"Aemond," you whimpered, losing yourself in pleasure just as his name crossed your lips.  "Aemond, my husband, my beloved— yours, m'yours, only you, Aemond—"

It was a feeling so powerful that it felt like you separated from reality for a brief moment— like you were floating in water except less wet and more… hot, more all-encompassing, more pure sensation that filled you from head to toe— and then seemed to rob you of all your remaining strength at once.  As you went limp, he whined loudly and his movements faltered.  It took you a moment to realise it was finally time: you were finally being filled by your husband.  He groaned softly as he panted, silver hair sticking to the sheen of sweat on his face.

He looked absolutely beautiful, even more than usual.  And he finally blinked his eyes open and looked at you like he'd never seen anything so perfect.

His thumb gently wiped away a tear from your temple.  "Lovely wife," he praised under his breath.  "I can't wait to see you with child.  I hate how long I waited… if I had taken you as I should have on our wedding night, our son would be almost here now…"

You pulled him down onto you for a tight hug.  "None of that matters now," you whispered to him sweetly.  "Just hold me, my husband— you said you'd never let me go."

He smiled as he sighed, melting into your arms and wrapping you up in his own.  "Yes, my lady," he agreed as he tenderly kissed the side of your face.

~

He looked up at you when you entered the room, and even just the slight smile on his face made you fill with joy; for someone as stoic as Aemond, you knew it was a sign of incredible affection to be smiled at that way.  “Good morn, my lady,” he greeted, standing from his seat at the breakfast table.

“I worried when I awoke without you,” you admitted, clutching shyly at your nightgown.

“I figured you would be used to it by now,” he smirked.  “Have I spoiled you with affection already?”

Chewing your lip, you glanced away.  “I thought— you said you’d never let me go.”

“Well, I wasn’t hungry when I said that,” he replied, chuckling.  “I awoke earlier and was afraid to disturb you… you seemed in need of your rest.”

You seemed worn out from all the fucking, he really meant, but he was still trying to be polite.

“Aren’t you going to sit with me and dine, my love?” he prompted, nodding towards the chair nearest to him— not even across the table, where you used to sit.  Feeling like you’d received some sort of promotion to sit so close, you happily bounced up to the table and a servant stepped forward to pull the chair out for you.  “Actually—”

You and the servant both stopped, and you worried you were about to get kicked back to the end of the table; instead, he sat back in his chair and motioned for you to step closer.  Normally, Aemond wouldn’t sit again until any lady in the room was seated (he was mindful of custom, always), but as you came closer, he patted his knee, and you felt your face warm up.  

“You could sit with me,” he suggested, and you tried not to show how ecstatic you were as you perched yourself in his lap.  He looked up at you with his uncovered eye, smiling, and draped his arm around your waist.  It felt, honestly, a little bizarre to have him be this affection, even if he’d shown you love in the most literal way just last night… you were still getting used to it.  And this felt very different, though it made you quite happy.  “Would you like a grape?” he offered, gesturing to his plate.

“I was upset before that I felt I didn’t know my husband very well,” you recalled, totally ignoring his innocuous question, “and now I think I knew even less than I thought.”

He tilted his head.  “How do you mean?”

“You’re so… romantic!” you blurted out, and he laughed.

“I don’t know about that,” he denied.  “But I am rather taken with you.  And I must say…”

His voice lowered, as did his gaze, while his hand traced down your back delicately through your clothes.

“...I’m still just as affected by seeing you in your dressing gown,” he finished softly.

“I-I—” you stammered, making him smile amusedly at you.  “I’m still just as amazed at how forward you can be, my prince… and to think I thought of you as shy once.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.  “I am shy,” he assured.  “I’ll even dismiss the servants before I fuck you on this table.”

You raised your hand to your mouth to cover it, hoping to suppress your shocked giggle, but he grabbed it and held it tightly as he pulled you even closer, until you thought he might kiss you.  He didn’t, yet: he only looked at your face very carefully.  You looked back at him, of course, and found yourself reaching up to stroke his cheek as you admired his sharp, harsh sort of beauty.  “You… you really plan to take me again, husband?  Now?”

He smiled wide, maybe wider than you’d ever seen.  “I was going to let you have breakfast first,” he clarified.  “Unless ‘now’ is your preference.”

You looked away, smiling to yourself.  “I’ve heard eagerness is unladylike,” you dodged his obvious attempt to make you out to be the needy one.  Which wasn’t exactly false, but not fair either: you knew he wanted you just as badly, and finally knowing that gave you a little confidence to toy with him instead.

“Maybe you aren’t the finest lady, then,” he accused, which almost hurt before he continued, “but you are the most perfect wife any man has ever had, or wished to have.”

And, in an objective sense, Aemond hadn’t been much of a husband.  Last night notwithstanding, he was all but cruel to you— and though he’d finally allowed himself to give in to desire for you, it was not as if his entire personality would change, he was still… whoever he was, an enigma with white hair and an eyepatch.

But he was perfect to you, and you loved him with everything you had.

~

You knew Aemond hated these sorts of things, but you loved them.  He hated the loud guests, the small talk, the awkward customs— but those were the things you liked the most, they seemed to bring life to the empty old castle.

It wouldn’t be as empty soon, though; that was the purpose of this banquet, to announce and celebrate your impending addition to the family.  And as much as Aemond generally disliked social engagements, he was obviously glowing with pride as he showed off his pregnant lady wife to the court.  Now that you saw it on him, you thought maybe that was what he meant when he said you were glowing… but you weren’t sure, because whenever he said it you just figured it was sweat from having to carry around his massively heavy child all the time.

Not that you minded!  You loved it, and he doted on you more than ever, kissing your belly and coming up with all kinds of plans for his son— and he was still sure it was a son, with no proof at all, but you weren’t even going to try to convince him otherwise.

“A toast,” Aemond instructed his guests, who raised their goblets in turn with him, “to my son, Vaegon—”

The guests started to lower their cups, but he wasn’t finished.

“— and his mother, my darling lady wife.”

You beamed as he squeezed your shoulder.  Yes, it was no wonder you loved banquets now that you had the most adoring husband by your side for the night.

Please write more for Osferth! Your last fic was amazing!!!

Aw, thank you so much, I really appreciate that!!!💕 and don't worry, I have a couple ideas I'm trying to figure out how to write at the moment.

I've realized, for me, soft boys™ are hard to work with more than others for some reason😂 Words don't word properly with sweethearts

i normally don't entirely enjoy omegaverse stuff but this...you may have just converted me. WHEW I AM SWEATING🥵

semi-human nature {alpha!aemond targaryen x omega!reader x alpha!daemon targaryen}

{summary} a visit to king's landing goes awry when you go into your first heat— unaware not only that you are an omega, but also that your uncle and stepfather are alphas.

{word count} 6.7k

{warnings} smut (a/b/o standards like heat, breeding, knotting, all that good stuff; kinda dubcon because the reader doesn't totally understand what's happening at first), incest and stepcest (the reader is rhaenyra's daughter making her daemon's stepdaughter and aemond's niece), virginity loss, kinda painful sex/pain kink near the end, threesome, oral m receiving, spitroast, discussions of pregnancy, infidelity (daemon is married to rhaenyra), basically no plot just filthiness

Your visits to King's Landing were far too rare for your tastes.  You didn't mind that Dragonstone was your home, it was beautiful there and you and your brothers found plenty to do and see— but you missed the old castle at times, missed the adventure and mystery there.  Most of all, you missed your extended family.  Though, really, you only missed some very specific members of it.

Firstly, you missed your Aunt Helaena, because she'd always been kind to you and taught you some things when you were a girl— like how to braid hair and how to play her flute (but you were never very good at either).  Secondly, and much more, you missed your Uncle Aemond.  As cunning and cold as he could be to others, he tended to be sweet with you, as long as you could remember.  The older you both got, the more you started to feel more than a friendly, or familial, connection with him— your girlish daydreams sometimes drifted to what it would be like if you married him someday, but you figured that would never happen with the growing animosity between your family and his.  Still, when he smiled at you, or when he kissed your head the tender way he did, you couldn't help but hope he felt as you did.

But you loved your family here, of course— your mother was sweet to you, as her only daughter, and your stepfather Daemon loved you as his own.  (Some cast a suspicious eye at the two of you, thinking maybe he loved you more than his own… but he was just affectionate, that’s all.)

In fact, he was being characteristically tender with you as you approached King’s Landing, rubbing your arm reassuringly until you smiled up at him.  “I’m sure you’re the happiest of any of us to be here,” he told you with a smirk.

“You aren’t happy to see your brother?” you pressed, but he never answered.  Your conversation was interrupted by the end of the journey being reached; they were waiting in the courtyard for you, and even though there was a tension in the air between everyone, you couldn’t help but smile shyly at Aemond.  He looked back at you, the smallest curl growing on his lips, and your heart fluttered.

For now, you had to behave calmly and politely.  But as soon as dinner preparations had begun and everyone had separated to manage individual matters, you ran through the castle to find Aemond in his chambers— and flung yourself into his arms with a squeal of delight.

He hugged you in return, though he tried to soothe you as he laughed softly at your excitement.  “It hasn’t been so long, has it, niece?” he asked with a smirk— so smug about the way you clearly had missed him.

“You missed me too, didn’t you?” you sighed, pulling back to look up at his face; he wore the softest smile for you— his one eye sparkled brighter than the sapphire when he looked at you, you swore it, and you were glad you caught him without his patch to hide behind.

“Of course, sweet girl,” he promised.  “My— you’ve grown, haven’t you?  Weren’t you a little girl last you visited?  And now I’ve got a woman in my arms.”

You flushed with warmth in your face and chest when he spoke like that— you felt most like a woman in his arms, anyway, even though your stepfather had commented more than once as well on your development as of late.  “You act like I’m so much younger than you, Aemond,” you mumbled shyly.  Somehow, you felt most like a woman when he held you; and, even more strangely, most like that little girl he remembered when he looked at you like that.

The embrace was cut short when you felt that dizzy feeling again, your eyes blinking quickly and the heat of your flush growing almost unbearable for a moment.  “Are you alright?” he asked, seeing your dazed reaction. 

“Y-yes, I’m— this happens,” you mumbled, trying to find your balance again as he stepped forward to keep you from falling.  “Fainting spells— w-well, except I don’t faint… I just feel strange.”

He narrowed his eye, looking you up and down.  “Strange?”

“Hot,” you whispered, throat a little dry— suddenly you could smell him, and he smelled perfect: it reminded you of snow-covered pine, icy and sturdy just like him.  Why couldn’t you smell that before?

He pressed his hand to your forehead, and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering.  The heat just seemed to spread all over you, and your head spun as your knees went a little weak.  “How long has this been going on?  Do your parents know?” he asked quickly.

You struggled to keep your thoughts in order enough to answer, a cramp hitting your gut all of a sudden— that had happened before, too, but the episodes never lasted this long before… which was why you hadn’t told your parents, it didn’t seem notable at the time.  Now, of course, as pain twisted inside you, you regretted that.  “J-just… just a few…” you tried to respond, but then you couldn’t even remember how many days it had been.  All you could remember was this moment, and you reached up to clutch at his shoulders.  You swore you heard him growl as he pulled you into him, and the noise made a shiver run through your body.

“I think you may be— fuck,” he interrupted himself, and you felt his nose brush against the side of your face as he breathed in deeply beside your neck.  You were so soothed by his touch that you didn’t even really consider how bizarre it was that he buried his face there, smelling and tasting your skin.  “You’re presenting— poor thing, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t know what that meant, but yes, it hurt; you whined as you nodded, making weak fists that tugged on his leather tunic.  

“I can help you,” he promised, “I can take that pain away.”

“Uncle,” you whimpered, “please— help me, please, I don’t understand what’s hap—”

“Shh, sweet girl,” he cooed softly, “you’ll be alright— it’s all well, I’m here now… I’ll help you, omega.”

Your eyebrows knitted— you weren’t sure you heard him right… omega?  Maybe it was a Valyrian word you hadn’t heard before?  You’d always daydreamed during your lessons as a child, and you certainly were less fluent than your uncle Aemond.

“All you have to do is as you’re told,” he instructed.  “Do what I say and I’ll take care of you.”

“Please,” you whined again, another cramp in your core hitting— and with it, a heat between your legs that you realised with distant shame was wetness flooding you.  He took a deep breath in and groaned, suddenly pulling you with him across the room.  You didn’t realise he was taking you to the bed until you felt it under your back.

“I can help you,” he said again, kissing all over your flushed face as you clutched at him desperately.  His hands started to slide up under your dress and pet your legs which spread wide for him instinctively, your hips shaking as more slick leaked from your opening.  “Your Alpha’s here, my darling…”

Before you could even consider asking what any of this meant— you were so needy, you might just let it all happen regardless— Daemon burst in the room.

“Fuck,” he blurted out when he saw you writhing on the bed while Aemond touched you.  “Is she really—?  I can smell her from across the courtyard, fuck, so sweet…”  

“Leave us, Uncle,” Aemond ordered instantly, “she’s mine.”

“She’s my daughter, I should be the one to help her,” Daemon sneered.  He crossed the room and approached the bed as Aemond held you tighter, defensively.

“She’s not your daughter,” Aemond scoffed, “she’s your wife’s bastard— and she’ll be my omega.”

Daemon shoved his nephew off of you with a growl, making you whimper.  “Please— please…” was all you could say.  You weren’t even sure what that sentence would be if you had the ability to finish: please don’t fight, perhaps, or please touch me.

“I should claim her,” Daemon insisted, descending on you next with a sweet purr.  “Don’t you want Papa to help you now?”

You whined in confusion, one hand shakily reaching up to hold onto your stepfather’s shoulder— but the other found Aemond’s hand and squeezed it tightly.  “Let her decide,” Aemond decided, knowing you were so affectionate for him— Daemon might agree to that measure, thinking you would choose your stepfather first, if he thought you understood what was being asked of you.

“She can’t decide now,” Daemon hissed, “she’s presenting, she’s delirious— and she doesn’t even know what she is!”

“She doesn’t—?!” Aemond repeated, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between you two.  “You never taught her?  You never told her—!”

“We didn’t know!” Daemon defended.  “We thought— everyone thought Rhaenyra would be an omega, as pure as she is, but she never presented… we just assumed—”

“How deprived you were, niece,” Aemond cooed at you, stroking your arm.  “Your mother never taught you about us— about how special our family really is, that you might be—”

“What am I?” you whimpered, shaking, looking up at your uncle with teary eyes.  He held your face and pet your cheek gently, but there was a rageful hunger in his eye like you’d never seen.

“You’re mine,” he answered.

“Ours,” Daemon corrected.  “She’ll belong to both of us.”

Even though you still barely had any idea what was going on, you knew how dangerous of a proposition that was.  Neither your uncle nor stepfather were ones for sharing…

Though he snarled in chagrin, Aemond was nodding as he pulled you into him again.  “We’ll both help you, all right?” he prompted you quietly.  “Your stepfather and I— we can both help you.  You just have to do as you’re told…”

“Please,” you repeated weakly; you were carried to the bed and all but thrown onto it, a moment later feeling Daemon’s hands help undress you right away.

“I want her first,” Aemond informed Daemon firmly.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this, boy?” Daemon snapped, making his nephew laugh coldly.

“What a naughty Papa you are,” he smirked.  “Will your wife approve of you fucking her daughter?”

“Wh-what?!” you choked.  “What… what will you do to me?”

Daemon growled in the back of his throat as your dress was torn away, and you felt two pairs of hands run all over your bare skin as Aemond pulled you to lay on him.  “As your uncle told you,” Daemon answered, “we’ll help you.”

Did they have to be so fucking cryptic all the time?!

“I’m having her first,” Aemond insisted again, “I found her first.  You’ll have your turn.”

He helped you to straddle his lap, reaching down to quickly free himself from his trousers with a sigh; your legs were shaking already, and you jolted when you felt him press his cock up to your opening.  “U-Uncle,” you whimpered, “are you— will we really—?”

“Haven’t you wanted this, sweet girl?” Aemond whispered in your ear.  “Don’t you want me to fill you?”

Though you whined before you let yourself admit it, you nodded.  “Yes,” you choked, “yes— I wanted this.”

Aemond gave his uncle a little smirk, admiring the look on Daemon’s face— some impossible, forbidden mix of a jealous lover and a disapproving father.  Apparently, he thought his stepdaughter was more loyal, and wouldn’t fall for her uncle sat so firmly on the other side of political lines.  But love is funny like that— especially where Targaryens are involved.

“Call me your Alpha,” Aemond instructed in a low groan by your ear, struggling to resist his instinct to simply take you without any more delay— he’d been fighting his desire the second he first smelled you, not wanting to rush it too much, but both men were overcome with the need to be inside you as you shuddered and whimpered.  

“Alpha,” you whispered back, feeling a pull to obey much more than usual when he spoke to you this way.  “My Alpha…”

He pulled your hips down, sliding his cock inside you all at once.  His head fell back as your hips rested on his; you cried loudly, feeling a sharp stretch— but more than pain, much more, there was pleasure, relief, and satisfaction.  You went totally limp in his arms and let him guide you to grind your hips just as he liked; “Fuck,” he panted, “you’re even more perfect than I ever— ah— ever imagined, dear niece— sweet omega…”

“Uncle,” you sobbed, clinging onto him tightly.  He was right— the pain had gone, for the most part, now all you had was this need for more… for everything.  Even though you were so weak and helpless, you found yourself able to move on top of him, bouncing up and down in his lap to find some more of that impossibly-perfect friction; he watched you with pride and lust in his smile.  “Aemond, it feels— oh…”

“It feels right,” he finished for you, “doesn’t it?”

You nodded in agreement, shivering when you realised the fingers ghosting up and down your spine were your stepfather’s.  “How does she feel?” he asked in a rough voice that would’ve been terrifying if you didn’t trust him completely.

“Hot,” Aemond answered quickly.  “So hot inside— she really is a dragon.”

They both laughed a little, though it wasn’t because it was funny— it was a specific emotion you’d never seen on either of them until now.  Daemon leaned in and kissed the back of your neck, making you gasp and whine and lean back into his arms as you kept riding Aemond dutifully; Aemond hissed slightly, digging his fingers into your hips. 

“She… she tensed up on me when you kissed her there,” Aemond said with a gasp.  “Fuck— I didn’t know she could get any tighter…”

“Beautiful,” Daemon praised you in a mumble against your skin, fingers now exploring more as he lightly tickled your sides and teased your breasts.  “Are you being good for him, omega?  Taking care of your uncle as you should?”

You gasped and nodded, eyes heavy and wet.  “Yes— yes, Papa…”

He hummed deeply, properly groping your chest now as he licked your neck, even nipping at it with his teeth to make you tighten inside again and again.  “F-fuck,” Aemond choked, “I won’t— I can’t take much more of that, she’s so— she’s perfect, you can’t imagine how perfect—”

“I don’t have to,” Daemon growled, pulling you off of Aemond who whimpered and begged to have you back— but the older man was well past the limit of his patience, snarling as he positioned you onto your hands and knees.  He held your shoulder to keep you steady, hard cock flexing at the way you hung your head in submission and turned just enough to look back at him innocently over your shoulder.  He smiled as you as he gripped himself inside his trousers, silently praying for the patience not to tear you open as soon as he could.  Yes, you were his omega, and his stepdaughter— his property in more ways than one— but he would prefer not to hurt you, and his instincts were fighting against his logical mind in that regard.

When he exposed himself, he saw you trying to look— trying to see if your Papa’s cock would break you, and he just chuckled slightly to himself.

“You’ll be able to take it,” he promised roughly, “you’re made to take it.”

He lined himself up, knocking your knees further apart with his own before plunging inside with a long sigh.  You cried again but pushed back against him, too; your hands still clung weakly onto your uncle, who soothed you and kissed your tears away encouragingly.

“You were right,” Daemon sighed, electing to just hold you still and stay buried as deep as he could go for a moment.  “She’s— fuck.”

Aemond took one of your hands from his shoulder and guided it down to his cock, still soaked from your slick; he guided you to stroke it with your shaking fingers, whispering filthy praises in your ear while Daemon fucked you slowly (at first).  “You have to take care of both of us,” your uncle reminded you.  “Gods, you smell so sweet… I could smell you from across the hall, that’s how I found you— I knew you needed me, needed an Alpha to breed you.”

“I… I don’t understand…” you mumbled, gasping as your stepfather picked up his pace and fucked you more roughly.

“We should tell her now,” Daemon decided.  “Well, you should— I’m quite busy already— fuck, so tight…”

“Would you like me to tell you everything, sweet girl?” Aemond asked you, tightening your grip on his cock when you nodded.  “Just keep— keep stroking me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “anything…”

“Our family is very special,” Aemond explained to you— which you already knew, but clearly there was more to it than you were taught.  “There’s a reason we keep to our own, protect our bloodline: some of us are… gifted.  Like your stepfather and I.”

“Like you,” Daemon added, though he was struggling to focus on any conversation as he used you.

“I always knew you were meant for more, my lovely niece,” Aemond cooed, though his nostrils flared for a moment as he moved your hand to wank him faster.  “And you are— meant to give us a new branch of the family, purer than any that came before…”

Even with your mind still clouded with desperation, you knew how you were expected to do that.  “You’ll— you’ll get me pregnant?” you realised with a shaky gasp.

Aemond nodded, smiling as he kissed your face.  “Don’t worry— it won’t be as difficult for you as it was for your mother.  She’s not like us, she’s… weaker.”

“They all are,” Daemon added, in defence of his wife.  “It’s been generations since an omega was born to us.. even in as pure a family as ours, it’s rare— only your uncle and I are Alphas.”

“It makes you much more fertile,” Aemond continued, “it makes us need to care for you— with our bloodline, there’s a small chance any of us could be like this… but our children, with both their parents being this way, they’ll all be gifted in the same way.  Think of the generations we’ll sire, and it all starts tonight…”

Clearly, he was excited by the prospect of keeping you bred for years to come, creating a new line of Targaryens guaranteed with these ‘gifts’ of fertility and instinct… well, you weren’t quite as keen.  Even as your body longed for the promise of being impregnated, your mind filled with fear.  “I— what if I can’t—?” you started to wonder.

“You will,” Aemond promised, without even knowing what concerned you— because he didn’t have to.  “You can do anything, omega, you’ll do anything for your Alphas.  It’s your nature; you obey.”

Just as he said it, Daemon thrust especially roughly into you and made you quiver.  A pleasure began to build in your gut, heavy and hot, while your stepfather let go of all pretence and fucked you with all the passion and possessiveness he’d been holding back for years.  He bent down over you and gave open-mouthed kisses to your back, making you feel small in his grasp and feeling the heat of every moan and sigh spread over your skin.  “So perfect,” he said again, “it’s better than anything— you really were made for pleasure, weren’t you, omega?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Aemond sneered at his uncle.  “I think it’s time for my turn again.”

“You can have your turn after I’ve knotted her,” Daemon decided.

Aemond grabbed you angrily, pulling you forward and slipping Daemon’s cock out of you— both of you reacting in disappointment.  “Your knot?  Please,” Aemond scoffed, “that could take hours— I need her now.”

“So do I,” Daemon insisted, but Aemond was determined to get inside you again.  Breathing through his teeth, he pushed his cock back into you roughly, guiding your hips to make sure he filled you to the very brim.  Shivering, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him fuck into you, accepting that it was better to let them do whatever they liked with you and just hope you didn’t get ripped to shreds in their fight over you.

“So beautiful,” Aemond sighed just before he kissed you on the lips— you let your mouth go slack right away, offering it for him to claim as well; his kiss was filthy and hungry and desperate, making you moan and whimper his name helplessly as he fucked you harder and harder.

“Don’t make me watch this,” Daemon pleaded with a whine, easily the most pathetic you’d ever heard him sound.  “I need— fuck, she smells so good…”

“You can fuck her again,” Aemond promised, only breaking away from the kiss long enough to speak, “when I’m done.”

“When you’re done?” Daemon realised.  “You’re going to knot her, aren’t you?  Fucking bastard.”

Of course, the only thing that could make Aemond stop kissing you was a chance to argue with your stepfather.  “I wouldn’t speak of bastards if I were you, Uncle,” Aemond taunted.  “Let her use her hand on you while you wait.”

“Hand?  I have much greater ideas than that,” Daemon informed you both proudly.  He moved around from his place behind you, kneeling beside where Aemond laid on the ground so he could pull you away from the kiss and push his cock up to your face.  “Use your mouth, omega— stick your tongue out for me.”

Doing as you were told, you whimpered slightly as he slid the fat head of his cock over your waiting tongue.

“Good,” he praised, staring down at you and petting your hair soothingly.  “You do so well for us both, darling— now close your lips on it.  Suckle on it, not too hard— fuck, fuck, how perfect you are…”

“I don’t especially care for your bollocks in my face, Uncle,” Aemond frowned.

“Lean away,” Daemon offered, not exactly sympathetic to the issue when he was so focused on the warmth of your mouth on his cock.

“I can’t!  Your knee is on my hair!” Aemond snapped, and Daemon finally moved enough for Aemond to yank his head away with a grimace.  

“You see why I keep mine shorter now,” Daemon chuckled.  

“I doubt that’s exactly why,” Aemond rolled his eyes, but knowing how perverse his uncle could be, he almost worried that he actually had found himself on the other end of the same issue before.

“My apologies,” Daemon offered in a mumble, but Aemond clearly wasn’t going to hold a grudge— he was moaning again already, holding your hips so he could buck up into you, kissing all along your opposite shoulder while your stepfather pushed his cock deeper into your mouth.

In fact, he kept sliding his thick shaft between your swollen lips until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat, making you gag.  You wanted to apologise, but you didn’t for two reasons: one, your mouth was full; two, Daemon only moaned louder, praising you again.  In fact, he kept making you gag over and over until a tear ran down your cheek.  “Let her breathe,” Aemond ordered, sounding almost hurt with how worried he was for you.

Daemon pulled out of your mouth to let you gasp and sputter, Aemond holding your face and kissing it repeatedly to try to soothe you.  “I-I’m alright,” you promised, “let me try again, please, Papa—”

Daemon grinned darkly as he pushed his cock back up to your lips.  “You’re too sweet, omega— you want so much to please your Alphas, I know.”

“Don’t go so hard on her,” Aemond warned, “you know if you hurt her at all, it will be hard not to kill you.”

Daemon was more amused than concerned by the threat, but he knew his nephew was right— not just about the way Alphas would defend their mates instinctively (Daemon understood that instinct firsthand, it was how poor Laenor met his end), but about the fact that he should be gentler with you.  You weren’t one of his whores, you were his sweet daughter and a new omega— you needed to be treated with care.  But it was almost impossible to keep calm in a time like this.  “You should know how difficult it is to hold myself back,” Daemon sighed, “having to smell her and see her and listen to her— her mouth isn’t enough, I need her cunt.”

"Well, so do I," Aemond countered.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Daemon was stronger— and terribly impatient.  He growled and yanked you off of Aemond, throwing you onto your back and roughly filling you again.  You gasped, overwhelmed by being thrown back and forth between them, with never enough time for your body to get properly used to one or the other.  It certainly felt different looking up at your stepfather as he fucked you, seeing him groan and bare his neck as he moved his hips quickly.  "Papa," you gasped, properly accepting for the first time that it was your stepfather— your mother's husband, your great uncle— fucking you now.  He smiled down at you, holding himself up by one hand as he touched your face with the other.

"Darling," he whispered, "you knew, didn't you?  That I wanted you in this way?"

Honestly, you weren't sure— it all felt like a lifetime ago now; presenting as an omega was disrupting enough to your worldview, being claimed by your uncle and stepfather made it even more sure that this felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

"Daemon, everyone knew," Aemond assured.  "You were never subtle."

You wanted to ask if your mother knew— but the pleasure kept you from speaking anything coherent, and the instincts controlling your body kept you from feeling any guilt.  Like Aemond said, it just felt so right, so natural that you knew nothing about this could be wrong.

Aemond pulled you into another kiss, laying beside you and touching you anywhere he could reach— starting first with your breasts, which he broke away from your lips to latch onto next.  You moaned loudly, feeling terrible sensitive with Aemond's tongue and lips teasing your hardened nipples.  "How full these will be…" Aemond whispered reverently against your skin.  "All your milk for our babies… you're incredible— our little omega, you'll carry so many beautiful Targaryens in you…"

You whimpered, reaching down to find Aemond's throbbing cock— he hissed as you gripped it, trying to stroke him the same way he'd guided you before.  "I— I want to please you, Alpha…"

He groaned and smiled, coming back up to your lips again but holding your face so he could look at you closely.  "I know, sweet girl— it's in your nature.  You live to serve, don't you, omega?"

Whining slightly, you nodded, and he captured your mouth in another kiss.

The thrusts into you grew faster and more erratic, rocking your body as you gasped.  Aemond's hand slipped down over your mound, finding your swollen bud and rubbing it as Daemon fucked you with ruthless intensity.  It was too much: it made your back arch and your throat catch.

"Come, omega," Daemon ordered; helpless to his commands, you sucked in a gasp against Aemond's lips and felt another wave of hot slick leak from between your quivering legs.  Both men groaned, and you swore you saw Aemond's eye go black as he took a deep inhale of your heady scent in the air.

"So obedient," Aemond observed, "I hadn't even known that omegas could come on command… what a talent."

There was this embarrassing squelching noise coming from where your stepfather drove his cock into you, your arousal coating his and your thighs as he held the back of your knees.

“Fuck!” Daemon grunted suddenly, and you struggled and whimpered as you felt his cock seem to swell— more and more, well past what you thought was possible, until you cried out from the fullness.  

“Alpha!” you sobbed, hearing him snarl as he held your hips to keep you from trying to get away.  

“Are you—?” Aemond realised, growling with jealousy.  “Fuck, you’re breeding your own stepdaughter, you’re unforgivable…”

“It’s— fuck, just wait, nephew,” Daemon promised, still panting as more of his sticky come flooded inside you.

“I can’t wait,” Aemond whimpered, “I need to breed her, you know I need to—”

“It’ll be worth the wait,” Daemon assured, “it’s unlike anything— gods, she’s—”

He never finished any of those sentences, just moaning and continuing to pump his seed into you as he breathed heavily.  “What’s happening?” you asked Aemond with a shaky whimper.

“Your Papa is filling you, omega,” he answered, petting your side as you shivered.  “One of the ways we’re different— Alphas, we… we have something called a knot.  It keeps us inside so you’ll never waste a drop of seed— but only omegas can fit something so large, we have to… make concessions, with other lovers.”

“We can never be… fully inside, when we finish,” Daemon panted, “or we’ll hurt them— could kill them, really.  But you, you… you take it so well, omega, you take it perfectly… fuck!”

“I-it hurts, a little,” you admitted, trying not to move so you wouldn’t disturb the soreness inside you.  “It’s— how is it so big?”

Daemon smirked proudly, holding onto you just as tightly though he’d finished spilling his seed already.  He tilted his head back slightly first as he took deep and fast breaths, only to drop it forward limply as silver strands hung limply around his face.

"Fuck," Daemon sighed again, "I never could've imagined how it would feel… being so deep within you, that sweet cunt keeping my knot warm inside— darling, it's incredible."

He stroked your face approvingly as you sighed.

"You expect me to wait until it's gone down for my turn to feel that?" Aemond sneered.

"You don't have a choice," Daemon laughed, "you'll hurt her if you try to get her off now.  You'll just have to find some patience."

The only instinct stronger than the need to breed was to protect you, and so Aemond snarled as he guided your hand to his aching cock once more as he waited his turn.  You felt complete relief, for the first time since the headache began, as you felt Daemon's knot inside you.  You didn't feel the same as you had before, though: you felt… better?  In a sense.  You felt complete.  You felt accomplished, useful… needed.

Aemond groaned against your skin as he fucked your fist, kissing along your shoulder and collarbone.  "Such a good omega— you'll take me next, won't you?  You can satisfy us both, yes?"

"Yes, Alpha— anything, I'll do whatever I can," you promised, addicted already to how rewarding it felt to be good for them.  They both smiled proudly.

"You used to be so stubborn," Daemon remembered.  "So much changes when you present, doesn't it?  Believe it or not, I was rather level-headed before I presented as an Alpha."

"I'll go with 'not'," Aemond decided.

Daemon didn’t notice or mind much what Aemond had said, too focused on looking down at where your leaking cunt managed to fit his knot— he was still amazed by it.  He’d spent his whole life pulling out enough to keep the knot outside when he came (that is, when he could manage to finish at all), even though at times it took all his willpower to fight that instinct.  It felt perfect to be inside you now— perfect in a way he’d never allowed himself to imagine before.

Aemond’s patience was well past worn; he forced your hand to wrap tightly around his aching cock, fucking your hand as he kissed you hard and whined against your lips.  “Omega,” he panted, “even your hand is so divine— but I need to be inside you, I need to breed and fill you, please—”

“Not much longer,” Daemon promised, though he was clearly irritated.  “It takes time, nephew.”

You could tell Aemond wanted to say something particularly catty in that moment— probably something about how it was impressive that Daemon could keep his knot at all at his age— but only a groan fell from his mouth as you squeezed his cock a little tighter.  He guided your hand lower to rub gently over his balls, and you realised how desperate he really was when you felt how swollen they’d become, how tender they were as you barely touched them and he hissed in a breath.  “Fuck,” he panted, “all that come will be inside you soon— I know how badly you need it, omega, to be bred by your uncle.”

You whimpered but nodded in agreement, letting him move your hand just how he liked so you could keep his hunger at bay.

As for you, the knot inside you brought you mostly back to reality— but a needy, desperate Alpha beside you kept your omega instincts in control even as some logical thought returned to your mind.  That logic made you want to ask them a thousand questions, about what you were and what this all meant and what this would mean for your family… but you couldn’t, because Aemond never stopped kissing you long enough to let you speak.  Not that you were exactly fighting to get a word in: you loved the way he kissed you, so you just melted into it and let him go on tasting your mouth while he stroked himself with your hand.

You couldn’t say how long it was before Daemon broke his silence, but however long it was, it went by quickly— for you.  For Aemond, it was like a lifetime.  “It’s small enough now,” Daemon decided.  “You can finally have your turn, nephew— but I know you’ll miss me, little omega, when this pathetic boy is on top of you.”

“Gods, just hurry up,” Aemond choked, and Daemon sighed as he held your hips and unsheathed himself from you.  The knot wasn't completely subsided, but it had shrunk significantly— enough for him to hiss as he carefully slid it out.  You whimpered as the bulge of it tugged on your sore walls, and made a stinging pain hit your opening as it passed through.  But, finally, you were empty… for a split second.  Aemond wasted no time getting on top of you and guiding his leaking cock to your hole; he plunged in all at once, making you wince and yelp as you held onto his shoulders, but he ignored the pain he was inflicting and started to move already— he just couldn’t stop himself.

The sting was worth it, though, to hear his loud, satisfied moans; his voice was rougher and deeper than you’d ever heard it, filled with awe as he watched your body take him fully with every thrust.  He wasn’t moving very quickly yet— faster than you were ready for, yes, but still savouring the feeling of you for himself.

“I hope she’s not too stretched out from my knot,” Daemon chuckled, obviously not genuine— he hoped his nephew could feel the difference, so he was silently disappointed when Aemond shook his head.

“She feels just as before,” Aemond breathed, “just as tight and warm— just as perfect, fuck, she really was made for this.  I would never have taken another woman if I knew this was waiting for me— if I knew I could have an omega to breed someday.”

“I was under the impression you hadn’t taken other women,” Daemon laughed, “you certainly fuck like a virgin.”

“You ramble like a drunk,” Aemond sneered in reply, losing any interest in verbally sparring with his uncle as he started to move just a bit faster inside you.  "Beautiful," he sighed as he leaned down, holding you close, kissing your tears away as he fucked your sore cunt as gently as he could manage.  "So beautiful, my omega— you take me so well, even when it hurts you… you take your Alpha so well."

His praise made it all worth it, and soon enough the soreness was forgotten— as was his attempting to be careful with you; within a few minutes he was holding you tight and fucking into you ruthlessly, panting beside your face while he slammed his cock into the very end of your insides.  Even still, even after hours of your Alphas taking turns with you, your body never stopped leaking slick for them, until Aemond was soaked in your heat— his cock, balls, thighs, even dripping down to the bed beneath you…

“It won’t be much longer now,” he warned.  “You’ll be bred— my child in you, sweet girl, is that what you want?  All that ache’s going to go away, once you’re good and pregnant, like you were meant to be.”

It sounded like everything you’d ever wanted; it called to your most primal desires and made pleasure course through your veins until your skin was alight with ecstasy.  "Please, Alpha!" you sobbed, holding onto him tightly.  "I want your knot!  I want your baby…"

"Fuck," Aemond gasped, baring his neck to you as he thrusted faster, faster, faster— you were afraid you would go numb inside from the friction, heat building until it all collapsed; you twitched and jolted from the orgasm overtaking you, just as Aemond’s knot began to swell.  You felt it, like you had with Daemon: the warm come flooding inside your spent cunt, and your eyes rolled back as you went limp.  It hurt to take another knot, yes, but you were too exhausted to even react.  You were too exhausted to even think, even though you had much to think about: like the fact that your uncle and stepfather had just claimed and taken you, bred you, both of them fully intending to have you with child soon.  They’d have no way to tell whose child it was, would that even matter?  Would your mother stay married to Daemon— would either of them, or both, take you as their wife?  What would you say when, inevitably, questions arose?

None of those questions seemed to matter now… all you could think of was the man above you and inside you, the perfect expression of relief on his face as his knot kept growing inside you.

"O-oh," he choked, tightening his fist beside your head, "it feels so…"

"I know," Daemon smirked proudly.  "It's unlike anything else, isn't it?"

Aemond nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath.  "Omega… our perfect omega…"

Daemon leaned down to join in on the praise, petting your head as you let your heavy eyes fall shut.  "You did so well for us both," he whispered to you.  "You may rest now— you did beautifully, now rest…"

You weren’t able to drift to sleep until they were both holding you; Aemond still inside and surrounding you while Daemon gently lifted you to cradle you from behind, with his chest to your back.  You should’ve felt confused, maybe guilty, maybe even disgusted as you reckoned with what you had done— what had been done to you.  Instead, you only felt at peace, safe and satisfied.  You were blessed with a gentle and dreamless sleep as your Alphas held you, still whispering to you sometimes— still discussing softly with each other what they would do next.  From now on, you could leave the thinking and worrying to them, and just fulfil your natural purpose.  It sounded nice, actually: lots of pure Targaryen babies, yours and Aemond’s and Daemon’s children, a strange but beautiful family.

For something you couldn’t have even imagined this morning, it seemed so obvious to you now… obvious, and sort of inevitable.  Not that you minded; you were happy to be theirs.