I Am Beggggging For More Aemond Smut Your Writing Is So Good

I am beggggging for more aemond smut😫 your writing is so good

thank you😭💓🥺 don't worry, darling (ha), i have another eyepatch boi smut in the works😏

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.

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - Aegon II Targaryen

don't judge me, i've been falling in lust with tom glynn-carney. i blame him and his stupid handsome face.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), incest, sub!Aegon, praise kink, oral (m and f!receiving), orgasm denial (if you squint), dacryphilia, mentions of abuse

word count | 2.6k🤙🏻

It was the middle of the night when you heard frantic knocking at your door.

You were restless and hadn’t been sleeping anyway, but it immediately concerned you at who would be up at such a late hour. But you relaxed when you opened your door to see your brother, Aegon. 

Of course it was him, who else would it be? You should’ve known, he has on more than several occasions snuck to your bedroom to seek comfort in your bed, ever since he was a young boy. It looked like tonight was no different. His eyes were red and watery, thick tears streaming down his face. He pleaded to you silently, and you instantly knew what he needed.

You quickly ushered him inside your chambers, sitting him on the edge of your bed, taking his hands and bringing them up to your lips to kiss them softly. “Again?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon let his tears fall freely, unashamed in your company, sighing in slight relief as you cupped his face, your soft skin on his encouraging him to look at you. “It’s becoming her favorite pastime.”

Your mother hasn’t always been the gentlest person, having to grow up quicker than most children, being forced to marry and bed a man over twice her age. It hardened her, made her rough around the edges that often showed itself to her own children. She was never the most patient or compassionate mother, with her eldest least of all. Aegon would often take the brunt of her verbal lashings, even taking her physical punishments. Your brother would often come to your chambers with a bruise or red markings on his face, not able to stand being alone knowing you had the tender caring presence that your mother never had. It seemed like all of Alicent’s better motherly qualities got transferred over to you, being the youngest of her children, the one who was always babied whether you liked it or not.

You never understood your siblings' hesitance to be around your mother when you were younger, you and Aemond would often be the two who’d spent the most time with her, you absolutely adored her. You didn’t understand until you stepped out of line one day. Up until that point, you were always the most well behaved, always did as you were told. You just wanted to have fun, for once. Aegon had taken you out to the streets of King’s Landing to show you the culture, but you got caught and were immediately brought back to your mother. You had never witnessed such anger from your mother before. She yelled at Aegon until she went blue in the face, scolding your brother for putting you at risk, slapping him multiple times. She had even slapped you when you attempted to intervene, telling her you wanted to go with him. You and Aegon hadn’t been allowed to see each other or leave your chambers for a week after that.

Aegon was always extra careful with you after that night, caring, something he rarely showed others. He never wanted you to see that side of your mother, always having to see it himself, so the fact that it happened because of him laid guilt on his shoulders heavily. You were the only person he ever treated with such care, he was like a different person when it came to you. It confused you to see him treat others so rudely, then turn around and treat you like a queen. You had realized that he had a fondness for you when he came to your chambers the night of your eighteenth name day, finally expressing how much he adored you, feeling protective of you ever since you were born. When he was with you, he never felt like he had to drink or whore around to feel at ease. Your presence was more than enough for him. He took you to bed that night, whispering how much he loved you over and over again.

Every night since then, he had snuck into your chambers, craving your embrace more than wine. Or, if your mother had another lashing out, he’d come to you to bask in your love, love he never received from Alicent. Just like tonight. “What happened this time?” You asked Aegon, gently thumbing away some of his fallen tears.

He chuckled bitterly. “I made a joke, like I always do. It was about our cunt of a half sister.”

You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “You know I don’t like that word. And you shouldn’t call her that in front of mother either, you know she was fond of her once.”

“I can’t imagine how, they’re completely different.”

You smiled shyly, bumping your shoulder against his. “So are we.”

He finally smiled, albeit sadly. “Yes. Though, you’re not as annoying as Rhaenyra.”

“Sounds like a challenge.” You smirked, poking his face until he gave you a genuine smile.

“Alright, alright, knock it off.” He giggled, grabbing your hand and holding it to his heart. “I need you, darling. I need you to distract me, please.” He begged, sniffling and wiping away the rest of his tears, turning to face you with pleading eyes.

You shushed him softly, holding his face as you placed feather light kisses all over him, hearing him let out a quiet whimper as you finally connected your lips with his. “Don’t worry, my love. I’m going to take care of you.” Aegon suddenly became more forceful, his desperation pouring into the kiss, grabbing onto your waist with a bruising grip. You gently pushed him away, ignoring his growl. “Hold on, hold on, baby. You’re not doing that, not tonight.” He let out a sharp breath as you pushed him back roughly, straddling his waist so you could have more control.

Aegon loved to control you in bed, but more often than not, you were the one to take control over him, especially when he came to you after one of your mother’s outbursts. That’s another reason he loved you, you always seemed to know what he needed. He loved being put in his place, he loved pleasing you, having your approval. He often thought he could live his entire life underneath you. “You’re gonna be a good boy for me, right?” You whispered, running a hand down his torso until you reached the laces on his trousers, feeling his already hardening cock push against the fabric.

“Yes, my love.” He whimpered, trying his best not to buck up against your hand as you undid the laces, slowly pulling down his pants. “Please…”

“Such a needy baby already.” You hummed, running your hands up his thighs, pushing his shirt up and over his head, rendering him completely bare underneath you while you were still in your shift. “Tell me what you want, love.” You cooed, kissing up his inner thighs, causing him to squirm.

“Need your mouth on my cock. Please, darling.” He whimpered pitifully, letting out a soft moan as you licked up the underside of his cock slowly, placing a gentle kiss on the tip. As you slowly took his throbbing member into your mouth inch by inch, the moan that escaped his lips was downright sinful it would even make the most lecherous whore blush. The beautiful sound traveled all the way down your body and made your walls clench around nothing, feeling painfully empty. “Need you to fuck me.” He whined, making you come off his cock with a stern glare.

“What? You’re not happy with me sucking your cock? Not enough for you? Maybe I should just stop then.”

“No, no!” He quickly cried. “Please, it felt so good.” You smirked as you got off your knees, pulling down your nightgown and stepping out of it, crawling on top of Aegon, him watching you with desperate glazed over eyes. “You’re so beautiful, my love.”

“I know.”

“Need you so bad.” Aegon whispered as he sat up to wrap his lips around one of your hardened nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from you.

“I know, I know, darling. But you’ll have to wait.” You yanked his head back by his hair roughly, biting your lip at the pretty little yelp he made, your desire between your legs growing rapidly. “You said you’d be a good boy for me, right?” You pushed him back down against the bed, crawling up until you lining up your dripping pussy with his face, his eager expression making a pleasurable ache twist in your gut. “So be a good boy and fuck me with your tongue, Aegon.”

You let out a relieved moan as Aegon immediately kissed your clit roughly, licking up and down your folds as you held onto his hair and tried to keep yourself steady. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and forced you down on his face completely, making sure you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to. But you absolutely did not have any intention to move, not when his tongue was working you to your orgasm so perfectly. He wasn’t always the best at it, but with your instruction, he became a master at pleasuring you. He always joked that it was the only thing he could do correctly, and if only he was as good at preparing to be king as he is at giving head. “Fuck, Aegon!” You cried out, rutting your hips against his face as he lapped at your clit like a man starved, pushing himself harder and harder until you had to pull his hair just to get some reprieve from overstimulation. “How do I taste, my love?”

“So good.” He slurred. “Sweeter than King’s Landing’s finest wine. I could get drunk off you."

“I think you already have.” You giggled, gasping loudly as he dove back in, moaning like he was being pleasured and not the other way around. “You’re making me feel so good, Aegon.” You smiled as he whimpered, loving how you praised him. “Fuck, I’m so close. You gonna make me come, my love?”

“Yes.” He whispered against you, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I wanna make you come. Please, come for me.” He whined, sucking on your clit hard until you cried.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You moaned as you rode his face, entirely uncaring if you were suffocating him or not, all you wanted was that sweet release. Aegon simply let you rut against his tongue, your arousal dripping down his throat. Your thighs shook around his face, spasming and trying your best to hold yourself upright as your release finally washed over you, goosebumps rising all over your body and a strained cry escaping your mouth.

You shakily crawled off Aegon’s face, seeing his mouth upturned in a boyish grin with your slick coating his lips and chin. “You did so good for me, love.” You kissed his forehead, trailing your lips down his face then neck. “I think you deserve a reward, hm?” You smirked, leering at his needy expression as you straddled his waist, ever so slightly grinding yourself on his cock, making him exhale sharply.

Lining up his cock with your entrance, you and Aegon moaned loudly as you slowly sunk down on him, your walls stretching strenuously in an attempt to accommodate his size, the slight sting making you whimper. Aegon threw his head back against your pillow with a sigh as you finally were able to take the last few inches of him, sitting comfortably until you started to leisurely rock your hips against him. You were in no hurry, knowing you had hours until he had to sneak back into his own chambers. You wanted to prolong this for as long as possible; you could already tell Aegon was starting to lose his patience, trying to buck his hips against you but you quickly placed your palms firmly on his chest to keep him from moving.

“Darling, please-”

“Shh.” You cooed, leaning down to kiss his plump lips, smoothing over the hair on his hair softly. “Just relax. We don’t need to hurry tonight.”

“I wanna come so bad…” He whined, eyes glazing over with tears, gracefully trailing down the sides of his face and creating a tiny puddle on your pillows.

“You are so incredibly pretty when you cry, my darling.” You smirked, lapping up his tears with your hot tongue, pulling away when he tried to kiss you. “You remember who’s in control here, right?” You asked sweetly, but keeping a dark glare in your eyes, admiring the way his bottom lip trembled.

Aegon let out a soft sob as you rocked your hips back and forth agonizingly slow, the cute noise sending a shock wave throughout your core. You didn’t even want to give him what he wanted anymore, all so you could hear those sweet sounds. But you were getting impatient as well, your pussy throbbing and desperately craving some friction. You both let out cries as you lifted yourself up and forcefully slammed back down on his cock, his eyes closed tightly and sucking air through his teeth. “Eyes on me.” You commanded, grabbing his jaw tightly. “Keep looking at me, love.” You spoke more lovingly, caressing the side of his face as you sped up and bounced on him in fervor.

“Feels so good.” He moaned, a quiet growl escaping his throat as he held onto your hips firmly, but it wasn’t quiet enough to escape your ears. You cursed as you started to feel another orgasm bubbling up inside of you, your walls clenching around him in a vice grip as the tip of his cock kept hitting that sweet spot in you. “Fuck—I’m so close. Gods, I need it so bad.” He begged, tightening his hold on you, afraid you’d deny him. But you needed another release as much as he needed his first one.

You let out a wanton moan as you didn’t hold back as you fucked Aegon hard, the sound of your skin slapping wetly against his echoing around the apartment, a blush dusting your face as your pussy made the most lewd noises. “You’re so beautiful.” Aegon whispered, looking up at you in awe. “You’re a goddess, my goddess.”

Your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washed over you, pure euphoria that made you dig your nails into Aegon’s pale chest and your toes curling tightly, not as tightly as your pulsing walls clenched around him. It lasted longer than you expected, a thin sheen of sweat coating your body as you held onto Aegon for dear life. You let out a breathy moan as you finally finished, an exhausted smile on your face. But Aegon hadn’t come yet, you ignored the overstimulation as you continued to bounce on his cum coated cock. “Are you going to come for your goddess?” You smirked, feeling his cock twitch inside you and watching his brows furrow as he let out a silent cry.

“My love, my love…” Aegon moaned, bucking up into you as fast as he humanly could, making you curse. “I’m gonna-” You quickly lifted yourself off of him, grinding your pussy on his shaft until he came with a low groan, spilling his seed onto his belly. You planted light kisses all over his face as he breathed heavily, smiling as you heard him chuckle.

“Was that okay?” You asked, gently pushing his hair out of his face.

“Of course, my love. I always enjoy you.” You felt quite proud of yourself as you laid down beside him, resting your head on his chest, sighing contently. He kissed the top of your head, breathing you in as he pulled you as close as possible. “You know how much I love you, right?” He asked suddenly, causing you to laugh.

“You’ve told me as such, in great detail, multiple times.”

“Good, just making sure.”

really in my "i can fix him" era

that osferth fic was SO GOOD!!! whew. do u take requests by chance?

Thanks so much!!💕 And I do, but i'm trying to focus on college and my own stuff at the moment and write requests whenever I'm in the mood. I said my request box is closed but that hasn't stopped anyone from asking anyway lmao

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😉😂

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.