What Could Have Been | John Shelby

hi, my sweet heart!

first of all i want to tell you that you are one of my favorite writers of all time, and your Aemond fics can be considered, by me, works of art!

your writing is MAGNIFICENT!

with all this, can you write an Aemond fic involving that scene, from episode 8, where Daemon is holding Rhaenyra's hand, showing affection and strength to her? And who is faced with that scene is Daemon. — His sweet daughter with his damn nephew.

— Two dragons, two rivals.

© do not repost or translate !

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: how could two people, two dragons have so many things in common including the hatred they feel for each other?

warnings: incest, explicit language, explicit words, inspired by episode 8

word count: 2.537!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

"ñuha jorrāelagon, gaomagon gīda." (My dear, keep calm.)

Your heavy and distressed steps were echoed by the empty room, which was lit only by the cracks of light coming from the huge window. — It was quite capable of forming a harrowing circle on the smooth floor of the cold place.

Your hands were sweating and you played nervously with your fingers, trying to balance and lessen your anxiety. — It looked like you were going to release fire from your mouth at any moment.

By the looks of it, and you've been warned, your parents, along with your siblings, are on their way to King's Landing to settle some frictions, duties and debate who will inherit the greatest roles in the dragon house. — Well, you're not worried about that, that subject never interested you as much as you were the main heir to the throne.

The eldest daughter, first of your name, hated meetings about it because deep down you knew that being a woman you would never receive the same respect that a male heir could receive.

Destined since childhood to be married to your uncle, following in your mother's footsteps; Rhaenyra thought it more correct and direct to leave you in King's Landing, of course with your father's permission, who hated the idea but learned to agree with it over time. — Daemon made a point of sending ravens with messages, mostly in the Valerian language, to you on every moon.

The rebel prince would never leave his darling daughter alone among those vultures, as he always called them.

Of course you liked the news, seeing your parents and siblings was a gift from the good gods and you thanked them. — But soon, a heavy storm fell on his head at the memory of an infuriating fact.

Your father and your husband never got along. — Only the gods knew the insatiable desire of each one to want to kill each other. — Two men. Two dragons who defended their family with fire and blood, had so many identical physical and mental characteristics and also shared the reciprocal hatred.

Your father always made it clear how much he disagreed with, and hated, your husband in the letters he sent your, but a part of his heart admired your passion for the one-eyed man. — And it was impossible to deny that you and Aemond were, in fact, a copy of Daemon and Rhaenyra.

A heavy sigh deliberately escapes your lips and your head decides to turn towards the owner of that voice. — The only voice that could reassure you at that moment and make you feel lighter and less pressured and you needed support and, especially, your lover.

As you turn around, your eyes clash with the image of the oldest sitting in a leather chair, pigmented in pure black and reddish tones, watching all your steps and features that you make. — Every simple movement or even a simple swing of your hair, was perceived by Aemond.

"Come here, my love." — It was technically impossible to deny that request. Those simple words fell sweetly from Aemond's thin lips, and ended up conquering you and comforting your anxious heart. — With a reassuring smile that came to your lips quickly, your steps made their way to the chair where your dear lover was sitting.

Your dress, made of fabric blessed by the gods and dragons and beautifully crafted in shades of black and red, paying homage to your home, swept the floor along with your steps. — That dress showed and defined your beautiful curves. — Any of the seven kingdoms would say, in all honesty and honor, that you were a copy, designed by the gods, true to your mother.

And Aemond looked to the heavens and thanked all the good gods for having you.

As you approached, a sincere smile with a touch of understanding appeared on the older's lips and he reached out to grab your hand. — A gesture of pure affection and love. — Aemond's rough fingers stroked the palm of your hand, a few circular movements but slowly. Aemond's hand, which tends to be cold most of the time, was warm but still made you shiver.

"Everything is going to be perfectly fine, my wife." — Aemond reassured you, looking into your eyes. The eldest's one good eye admired you, and tried to pass a pleasant image. — "You know very well that you have my word."

Interrupting the simple but comforting finger caress, Aemond clasps your hand in his and holds it tightly, showing support for you. Even with all the friction, differences and threats between your family and Aemond, he never failed to support and protect you. — You belong together. Two dragons and only one soul, you two defined yourself with those words.

You delivered a smile that meant all your passion and admiration for Aemond, and he was able to understand that quickly. That damn man knew you like no one else.

The huge doors of pure wood along with some stone repairs are opened scaring you and taking your focus away from Aemond, and the same happens to him but the older man's hand still remains holding yours. — Soon, one of the guards, who escorted the door, enters.

"Majesties, excuse me." — The guard, whose name you didn't know, refers to your and Aemond's presence. He was young looking and a little nervous, maybe it was one of his first days as a guard. — "The presence, majestic and of high grace, of Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon already awaits the two of you"

Aemond did not fail to notice and feel the strength you exerted by squeezing his hand. It seemed that nervousness had attacked your entire body in a brutal and deadly way. — Your voice had disappeared, as if you had lost your way of speaking at that moment, and your husband noticed it immediately.

"Allow them to enter here, now." — The elder Targaryen commanded in a loud voice, causing the young guard to stiffen his stance and quickly nod to obey the order.

The huge and strong doors of pure wood, which blocked the image of the corridor, are opened again and soon your eyes can see some strands white, like snow, and very familiar. — At the exact moment, you can have a broad view of your mother next to your father.

Your heart was racing, it felt like it would burst out of your mouth at any moment and not to mention your eyes were teary and ready to shed the tears that were threatening to fall freely. It had been so long, so many moons and so many suns, without admiring and talking to your parents.

The first steps were Rhaenyra's and in your direction, she wanted to ignore her unfortunate brother's existence. The future queen hated that dragon ever since the event that caused his eye to be missing, and if Rhaenyra could; she would never leave you in that man's hands again. — But she knew she couldn't fight your feelings and the sacred seal of Targaryen marriage.

Keeping her posture and, knowing that she couldn't disrespect her brother and even in front of him, Rhaenyra faced him with respect and nodded to the youngest.

"My dear daughter and my dear…" — A not-so-long, tight sigh escaped Rhaenyra of its own accord. — "Brother."

Aemond did not show such a surprised or grateful expression or reaction with the presence of his sister, who has a feeling of reciprocal hatred and anger. The seriousness remained on Aemond's face, until he decided to watch his uncle's footsteps.

The annoying, unhappy sound of Daemon's well-crafted, presumably leather, shoes drifted past Aemond's ears. As if each simple, slow step was a deathly crack in the one-eyed head. — Aemond hated even Daemon's gait. — There wasn't one thing Aemond didn't hate about his uncle, besides his daughter; of course.

Gently and slowly taking your hand away from Aemond's, you approach your mother and don't miss the opportunity to hug her. Feeling your mother's comforting and warm affection again is a blessing to you and warms your heart. It was, in fact, an eternity since you felt that.

"I missed you so much, my sweet child." — She whispered in your ear, you could feel the affectionate smile and very typical of your mother. — "And you look so beautiful."

"I missed you too, mom." — After you reciprocated your mother, you slowly pulled away from the warm embrace that held the two of you together and finally got the chance to meet your father's eyes. Eyes identical to yours that, in one of your youthful memories; Rhaenyra said you destined the most beautiful eyes she could look up to in all the seven kingdoms, your father's.

Daemon ignored the heavy, deadly glare of the younger man who sat a few feet away from him. The rebel prince didn't care, not even a little, about that one-eyed drama. — He just wanted to have the opportunity and moment to meet again, correctly and as a father, with his beloved daughter And not even her husband could stop it.

"issa tala." (My Daughter.) — The tone of Daemon's voice took a little hitch, leaving her weak as if he were broken or even his voice totally incapable of uttering a miserable word. — But that wasn't it. Your father was thrilled to see you after so many years. — "issa dōna tala" (My sweet daughter.)

Even with his low, wistful tone, Daemon didn't lose his poise but he couldn't hide his genuine, compassionate smile when given the chance to hold your delicate hand. — Your hand that was in a reddish tone because of the countless times you rubbed and squeezed because of nervousness. — Your father understood that and didn't want to question it.

Holding your hand, Daemon's thumb caressed your fingers and analyzed some rings, pure silver, that remained lying there and, he couldn't help but analyze his engagement ring and be impressed with his nephew's taste. — The blood color stone, the color of pure red and the color of the Targaryens, of dragons; a ruby was between your finger.

"At least he knows how to put incompetence aside when it comes to choosing a ring." — A low and brief laugh came out of your mouth when he had the privilege of listening to that mocking whisper of your father. But, something catches the attention of Aemond, who was still not very happy with his uncle's arrival.

"I hope the trip was pleasant for you, uncle. From what I understand, the tide was calm, wasn't it?" — It was impossible not to recognize the teasing and sarcasm in the words that were uttered from Aemond's mouth, and he didn't even try to hide it. The weather could get worse but that was exactly what the one-eyed man wanted.

You turned your head towards your lover, wanting to question and scold, just by looking at that attitude, but again, it was impossible but you didn't stop watching him with narrowed eyes. — Your husband's single eye met yours but it was only a fleeting moment.

"I must feel honored and privileged to have conceived your concern for me, nephew." — Daemon returned in the same tone of voice. — "But i don't deny that i'd rather stay on the ship than here."

Remaining facing Aemond, you had a full view of Rhaenyra doing the same action you had previously performed on the one-eyed. — It looked like you two were in the middle of a children's discussion, that was an unfortunate and unpleasant moment to witness and participate; and besides being extremely tiring.

"I make a point of calling that ship for you." — Aemond retaliated with a thin and ridiculous smile.

"ao jurnegon raqagon riñar." (You look like children.) — For the first time that day, you had raised your voice but not in an aggressive or grotesque tone, but in pure reproach. Either you would get the attention of the two men or Rhaenyra would. — You decided to move away from your parents and return to your starting place, next to Aemond but this time, not so close to him.

Silence settled in that dark and cold room, with a tense atmosphere. — Better that than a childish argument and that could leave for something worse. — The Targaryen without one eye turned towards you with an expression, perhaps, regretful but he didn't dare to say anything at that moment.

"Glad to see you, my daughter." — Rhaenyra decided to end that silence but as if she was saying goodbye, and she kept smiling at you and continued to admire your eyes. — "Well, i'm glad to see you too, my brother." — She didn't leave Aemond's eye but kept her expression serious.

"It's good to have them back, Mom." — You returned a smile grateful for the return of your parents and praying to the good gods that your father and your husband kept their posture and did not argue anymore.

Aemond just let out his typical and common "Hm" and didn't show such a reaction or something strange, or a provocation. — You thanked him mentally for that and soon approached him again. Your act caught the attention of the king's youngest son and he missed no opportunity to join his hand with your, as he had done before Rhaenyra's arrival.

Daemon's eyes didn't want to believe what was happening in front of them, something he would never admit in his life. — It seemed that his nephew wanted to provoke him again, to make another argument happen and maybe worse. — But also for the first time in all times and moons, Aemond did not do it to provoke or defy his uncle. He did it for his beloved, for the way he shares his love and admiration for her.

And for the fact that you could be upset with him, Aemond opted for the way to apologize with the touch. A touch that seemed simple but had immense meaning.

Of course, Aemond didn't want to feel threatened in front of a person he despises so much, a person he characterizes as his rival, but he hated to keep and create these discussions in front of you. A feeling, considered rare for one who knew only the dreaded prince by sight, of regret settled over Aemond.

Aemond's thumb passed slowly over the ring, which he had chosen, and a sense of pride and passion surged through his chest.

"I hope that the days that remain here are pleasant and possible for you." — The surprising speech of the one-eyed prince was exclaimed and listened to with great attention. The boy's one good eye landed on your hand, and he again stroked the area. — "syt ao tolī, Daemon." (For you too, Daemon.)

After the last words, Aemond began to stare deeply at Daemon. Without an expression of sarcasm, or even anger, but that didn't mean that anything good had actually come out of the young man's mouth.

"and nyke hopi ao morghūljagon." (And i hope you die.) — He answered unwillingly. Rhaenyra, again, faced her husband with no desire to participate once more in a half-baked and totally childish argument. She was already completely exhausted and Daemon sighed heavily. — "We appreciate it."

𝔩𝔬𝔨𝔦 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔣𝔢𝔶𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

everything marked with ツ contains smut, my blog is 18+ only regardless of if something contains smut or not. please read all warnings before reading any of my fics. all series contain a mixture of fluff, smut and angst.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘:

― behind closed doors

being in a secret relationship with the god mischief himself and sneaking around to avoid the avengers.

𝖇𝖑𝖚𝖗𝖇𝖘:

― nervous

you and loki are both virgins and have never gone further than heated make-outs until.. impiled ツ

― angel voice | lab assistant!reader

your a lab assistant that mindlessly sings what happens when loki hears?

― mornings in asgard

mornings in asgrad with loki are always so nice especially with the way he wakes you up ツ

𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖘:

― drunk

loki gets quite drunk and he is quite clingy with you and can’t stop loving on you.

― nsfw abc’s

dirty thoughts and headcanons with the god of mischief ツ

― bunny

you’re being very needy and loki wants to be a tease and not fuck you but tells you to dry hump instead to get off ツ

― a long time | bearded!loki ?

it’s been so long sense you’ve seen loki, when you do he seems to have a beard now. He also seems to miss being between your thighs. ツ

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

The Many Faces of Love (completed): The reader and Din are in love and on Mandalore waiting to be married. Yet until that day comes, they cannot see each other`s face and spend their nights together in darkness. How do they react on their wedding night when they see each other for the first time? smut*

Part 1* Part 2 Part 3Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8*

Blind Pleasure: The reader thinks the Mandalorian tolerates her for the purpose of her looking after the child. During a bounty hunt, Mando leaves the reader and the kid in a cantina with a comm. They run into trouble and Mando saves the day…what happens when they forget to turn off the comms when they return to the ship? (smut)

Hungry Eyes: Din can’t help but watch you move around the Razorcrest in the dress you wore for catching a bounty…what happens when he can’t keep his eyes off of you? (smut)

A Mandalorian Drabble

Another Mandalorian Drabble

Another Mandalorian Drabble

Clumsy: Request- Reader doesn’t know what is happening but Mando knows what Cara is up to by the way Cara always take care of Yoda so you two can get some alone time. It crescendos as Cara basically makes reader trip into Mando’s arm making Mando a flustering mess and the reader making him having to explain finally what Cara has been trying to do these past few months

To Be Alone: The reader is the daughter of an Imperial general who has hired the Mandalorian to escort his daughter to her betrothed in Alderaan. The job is simple but what happens when feelings emerge and things get complicated?

Money For Nothing: Based around Ep 6 “The Prisoner” - When the Mandalorian accepts the mission from Ran, he is thrust back into a life he thought he left behind. How did he endure the immoral morons back then? Breaking into the prison is a breeze but what happens when Qin isn`t the only prisoner Din discovers locked up on the New Republic ship? (smut)

Purple Haze: Din has had enough, he has to escape. He visits the local brothel on the planet you are currently docked on, and seeks comfort from a stranger. What happens when he is offered something he yearns for: the chance to be with you? (smut)

Your Love Is My Drug: Din and the reader have been married for a couple of months and Din makes it his mission to show her how much he loves her every night by worshipping her body. However, the reader can see the glint in his eye whenever she handles the cuffs for the bounties and the silent yearning to take her and show her who she belongs to when a local gets a little suggestive. She finally confronts him about it and together, they decide to experiment and hopefully, Din will be able to give into his darkest desires.(smut)

The Marshal: Follows The Mandalorian and his mechanic through S2E1 (spoilers and smut)

Javier Peña x Reader

Falling: Based off of the song Falling by Harry Styles. (smuttish)

Someone You Loved: Javi is back in Laredo and sees Lorraine. He also sees his best friend from childhood, Y/N. Old feelings are reignited but what will Javi do when he decides to head back to Colombia? (smut)

El Baño: The reader is undercover for the CIA and pretending to be the new girlfriend of Don Berna. When a certain DEA agent gets involved with Los Pepes, he also struggles with the risky business of lusting after the girlfriend of a narco (smut)

Por Amarte (Part Two of El Baño): Javier and the reader are back in the United States and getting used to life as civilians. This is what happens after the crazy events in Colombia between Y/N and Javi as they navigate a new life together (smut)

Dímelo (Part Three of El Baño): Javier and the reader arrive back in Colombia to hunt down the Cali cartel. What happens when things get more complicated than they ever imagined? (smut)

Nunca Te Olvidaré (Part Four of El Baño): Javier and the reader have a lot of things to contend with while Javi attempts to take down the Cali Cartel. Will they be able to stay strong when their pasts come back to haunt them? Or will their happy ending fade away before they can make it back to Texas? (smut)

Four Weddings and a Funeral (On Hiatus): Based on Four Weddings and a Funeral. Javier sees you again at the wedding of your high school friends and the old spark you once had is reignited. Will it survive the evening or will it burn out before he heads back to the DEA Headquarters in Houston? (smut)

Part 1*

Motivation: Javier, Steve and Y/N have a late night in the office reviewing files for new intel and decide to call it a night before heading to the local bar. Y/N notices something different about how Javier reacts to what she says and decides to act on the desire she has been hiding for the past year (smut)

The Casanova of Bogatá: The reader and Javier are friends with benefits. While working at the CEA department, a few of the guys compare Y/N to the informants Javier “works with.” What will Y/N do when Javier comes over that evening with a pizza and a six pack of beer? (smut)

Catch Sicarios, Not Feelings: It’s Javier’s first day back at the Embassy and along with being the new head of the DEA, he also gains an assistant. Javier dismisses Y/N and tells her he doesn’t need an assistant to fetch him coffee but what happens when she turns out to be the best asset he could ever wish for - both professionally and personally? (smut)

Háblame Sucio: The reader and Javi are secretly friends-with-benefits but their partner Steve has no idea. One humid day, you are waiting for Carrillo and Javier takes advantage of the free time…much to Steve’s annoyance (smut)

Fix You (On Hiatus): Two lonely souls seek out the same therapist and meet in the waiting room: one has mandatory sessions and suffers from insomnia, the other has returned from Colombia and reluctantly seeks help to battle his own demons. Will they be able to find what they are looking for from their therapy sessions and maybe, along the way, they find the peace they yearn for in each other?

Part 1

Teach Me Tonight (Complete):  Y/N and Javier both have things to talk about when he visits her apartment one night. Y/N tells her partner about her crush on Brad from the CIA and reveals that she is a virgin and has barely been kissed. She wants to make sure she can impress Brad and asks Javier to educate her on all things sex and seduction (smut *)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Just Push Play (Part of Teach Me Tonight): Javier and Y/N decide to watch a porno together and Y/N suggests using the camcorder her dad bought her for Christmas to record their own version for Javier to watch when he goes out of town (smut)

Teach Me Tonight Drabble 1 (smut)

Only The Good Die Young: When Javier Peña returns from Colombia, he struggles with the idea of his soul being tarnished by the questionable decisions he made to catch Escobar and the Cali Cartel. He seeks solace from the religion his mother followed before her death but instead finds you, the niece of Father O’Leary, and someone so innocent, Javier struggles to ignore the pull he feels towards you until one night in a shitty bar changes everything (smut)

One Day At A Time: What if Javier never met Lorraine and he never left her at the altar? What if it was you who left him on your wedding day? And when he returns to Laredo after being dismissed from the DEA, he sees you again at Danny’s wedding. Only when he sees you, you aren’t alone.

Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door:  Javier believed you were dead. He’d heard the gunshots, arrived on the scene to find you missing, and never found a body so he was certain that Escobar’s men had taken you away. He is shocked when he finds you again - alive- and in the place he least expected. After months of grieving your death, he wants answers. (smut)

Oberyn Martell x Reader

The Rose and the Viper: Margaery is getting married to Joffrey and you are heading to Kings Landing with your grandmother, Olenna for the celebrations. As the unmarried, older sister to the bride, rumours swirl about you and your single status. Upon your arrival to the capital, you head to the baths to clean up and relax- what happens when a certain Dornish prince enters the ladies baths by accident and you invite him to join you? (smut)

You Should See Me In A Crown: Oberyn and his wife remain in King’s Landing for Oberyn to participate in Tyrion’s trial. During their stay in the Red Keep, Y/N is drawn the Iron Throne and one day Oberyn finds her in the throne room and well…let’s just say he indulges in a fantasy he has involving the Iron Throne. (smut)

The Golden Rose: Oberyn and Ellaria visit their preferred brothel in Sunspear searching for the perfect woman to continue Oberyn’s legacy. Ellaria is no longer able to conceive so she assists Oberyn in finding the best candidate to have his ninth child. When the brothel owner brings you into the room, Oberyn and Ellaria immediately know they have found the perfect one. (smut)

Agent Whiskey x Reader

Train Kept A Rollin: Whiskey and Prosecco are assigned to gather intel from a married couple while pretending to be married themselves. There is just one problem: the Statesman agents can`t stand each other - how the hell are they going to act married?

Maxwell Lord x Reader

What’s Love Got To Do With It (complete): Maxwell Lord is successful, handsome and can have anything he wants with a snap of his fingers. He is living the American dream until his mother turns his life upside down by going behind his back to organize an arranged marriage to help take Chimtech Consortium to new heights. The only thing worse than not being in control is that his bride-to-be is you, the one person he cannot stand (smut)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

WLGTDWI Drabble #1

WLGTDWi Drabble #2

WLGTDWI Drabble #3

Frankie Morales x Reader

Always Be My Maybe (Complete) Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales has sworn off of relationships. He had his heart broken too many times in the past and he has learned his lesson. He knows that no woman could possibly love him enough to sit around and wait for him to come back from missions with no word if he is dead or alive so he decides to stay single and save everyone the trouble. However, his steely resolve disintegrates when he is getting drinks with Pope and notices you across the room. What happens when one night changes everything? (smut in most chapters)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Marcus Pike x Reader

Happy Birthday Mrs. Pike: It’s your birthday and a certain FBI agent wakes you up to show you how much he loves you. (smut)

Petitions

[ series masterlist at end ]

prompt: your family returns to Kings Landing to hear petitions regarding your brother's legitimacy.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!Velaryon!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: (this got away from me at) 11.3k+

note: i tweaked the timeline in the show a bit to match my own timeline. also it's long, but i need time to plan the next part(s). i hope this suffices!

warnings: spoilers, cursing, (poorly written) smut. basically when Aemond's in the training yard and the court scene. potentially too detailed but that's intentionally for the readers who don't watch the show. descriptions of violence, just a bit more background - marking this as fluff? it's pure filler? again, not edited, canon-level incest, dialogue. ❗️major season one, episode eight spoilers

🔞 none of the following content is appropriate for minors 🔞 ❌ all taglists are discontinued

His gaze followed you around your shared room, smirking at your nervous, jerking movements. "You know we've maids for this kind of thing, my love. And you've cleaned three times this night already, I do believe it is as spotless as it will get, sweet girl."

"Okay, well, it's just not right, yet," you rushed, sighing to yourself as you rearranged the pillows on your bed again. "'S just not right, not right, 's gotta be right," you muttered to yourself under your breath.

"Why's that, pet?"

"It's just not, Aemond, please - stop questioning me!"

His hands rose in mock defense from his place in the carved, wooden chair beside the table and before the hearth, watching you for a few more minutes as you moved like a tornado. You picked things up and rearranged them somewhere new. When your busy body moved towards the table he sat at with a pile of books in your hand, he reached out swiftly and wrapped both arms around you - making you briefly panic. He pulled you to his lap, leaving little room for you to wiggle free.

"Aemond - "

"Ease yourself, my sweet wife," he spoke smoothly, loosening his hold to let you turn comfortably on his lap. "The room is absolutely spotless, you need not worry for a thing. And you've been barking at the servants all week to clean the other chambers, I promise, things are where they need to be."

You sighed and leaned over to set the books to the table, picking up his goblet when your hand was free, and leaning your back to his chest. "I do not bark, and you'd stand well not to mock me," you muttered softly, taking a sip of sweet wine.

"I do not mean to," he sighed, nuzzling the skin in front of your ear as you sat somewhat sideways on him. "You are worrying for nought, my sweet love. Please, ease yourself, my busy bee."

"My mother's coming to the Red Keep, Aemond," you refused, head shaking to swirl tresses of silver-white hair. "And it will be the first time in years I've seen her. Please, I only want her to see that we can keep house and feel as if she's raised a proper lady - who knows how to be a wife."

"You do realize it is not our responsibility, sweets, for this is not technically our house," he muttered against your temple, placing a kiss there as you drained his goblet. "It's my mother's house to keep, and she does, so you do not need to worry yourself. Besides, they are not going to stay in our chambers."

"I know," you sighed, finally deflating against his chest. "I just want things in place. I feel in place when things are proper and away."

"They are," he assured softly, letting you lean back into him with a snuggly arm around you. He reached for your goblet and extended his arm to set it to the table's top. "Are you going to meet them?"

"Yes, of course," you assured, reaching up to gently pet his jaw as you pressed your forehead to his neck. "You are to train, are you not?"

He sighed softly, "This morn, pet, yes."

"Will you join us after?" You pouted lightly. "Before we are to hear Lord Vaemond?"

"Perhaps it is not wise for us to visit with your mother before the proceedings," Aemond admitted before he pondered a moment and decided to adjust his answer. "Or at least... It is not wise for me."

"We shall see," you sighed softly, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw as you understood why the meeting would make him uncomfortable. "But you are excused, my love, if that's what you are looking for."

He chuckled, "Hmm, all right. Thank you, my sweet girl. You will find me after, won't you?"

"Oh! Do not tell me it is time to rise already? I have only just sat."

"'Tis time to depart, actually, yes," he mused, leaned in to kiss your lips. You whined lightly, keeping hold of his cheek as your lips adjusted against his; his breathing deepening when his hands tightened their hold on your hips; readjusting your hips so that both legs laid over his lap in a straddle.

"Aemond," you warned half-heartedly when he began to ease you back and forth over his lap, rocking you over his growing bulge.

He sighed, "What if we did not leave this room? Hmm? For the day?"

"We have to, because we are responsible and lead by example," you chuckled lightly, letting your tongue lick over his bottom lip.

"You're not making a valid case, pet," he returned your laughter, tightening his hands so they jolted into your ribs. You lurched forward with laughter, incidentally grinding over on his lap; the both of your breaths catching when he pressed you downward.

"Aemond," you now moaned softly, brows furrowed in concentration as your hands held his jaw and neck for balance. "You know we're needed in the courtyards."

"I think we've a moment or two," he muttered against your lips, breathing the same breath as he lead you back and forth, back and forth, back and forth over his lap. His hips stiffened to raise slightly, fighting back his moan when his cock rode up into your weeping hole. "You vex me, woman," he chuckled breathily, letting his tongue dart out to flex over your neck. "How the Gods have blessed me."

"We will be late, my love," you giggled lightly. "Your mother already blames me for your new late attendance record."

He smirked at you, letting your manicured hand caress his jaw; reveling in the warmth from your fingers, "But you are the reason for our late arrivals, pet. You're irresistible."

"Maybe you're just insatiable."

"Hmm," Aemond considered with a smirk, letting your lips pucker to pepper kisses around his jaw and chin. "Are you trying to distract me, my love? I hate to admit it might be working."

"Perhaps I'd only like to savor another moment with my husband before duty holds our obligations the rest of the day."

He nodded and let his hands fall to the meat of your arse, "Fair point... Should we go back to bed then, my sweet wife?"

"Do not tempt me with a good time," you mocked him, making him laugh and lean forward to peck your lips. "Come," you finally sighed sadly.

"Yeah, all right, c'mon. Mother needs one of her children to be responsible," he agreed, letting you raise off his lap to move around the table so he had room to stand. After taking time to finish getting ready, you both laced on your boots and moved out the door. Like a gentleman, Aemond escorted you to the front landing-courtyard, where you would wait for your mother's envoy; and after a kiss to your lips and a muttered, "I love you," your husband was leaving you there to head for his training session with Ser Criston Cole, Queen's Guard.

In truth, the knight was always polite to you, but you saw his glare when he thought he was concealed. Funny how people think themselves invisible, but in reality, they are glaringly obvious. Your mother had once told you the truth behind the drama she and Cole found themselves in from years ago, and while it wasn't your place to offer judgement, it was obvious now that Cole had never forgiven your mother. Being her daughter, you were the next best thing to take his anger out on. Yet he favored your husband and his obvious skill, so, you were merely endured.

You waited only a few moments before the front gates opened and your mother's carriage was lead into the courtyard, making you perk up; straighten up; hands clasping in front of you as your shoulders straightened. You wanted to show her that she had raised you right and she need not worry - because you were a proper Targaryen lady whilst under the Hightower's heel.

One of the stationed guards called in announcement, "All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."

"Mother," you sighed to yourself with sweet relief.

"And her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen!"

"Princess," a maid approached you with hurried steps and a flustered face, "you're needed - "

"Not now," you insisted, wanting to see your mother and nothing more. Even a glance - a simple glimpse of her would suffice right now. You had missed her gravely.

"Please, it is Kasta, Princess - she grows restless and aggressive," the servant rushed in worry. You sighed, nodding at her; taking the skirts of your dress in hand. "Thank you, Princess, thank you - you're the only one who can calm her."

"All right," you tisked, turning from the courtyard and following the young maid away just as your mother's carriage had opened, and she stepped out - catching a simple glimpse of your hurried back and recognizing the tense posture. "What is the matter?" You asked the maid, dodging around different personnel.

"She's refusing anything brought to eat," she explained quietly, "and she grows aggressive as time passes. We do not know what to do anymore, I am sorry for bothering you, Princess."

You huffed, "She's just restless I'd wager, I've not taken her out in a spell. Come, she'll want beef more than venison."

The maid nodded, and together, scurried off with you towards the Dragon Pit. She broke off to consult a local farmer, Mr. Drox, who provided livestock for the royal dragons, and when you reached the Pit, all guards were gathered outside in fear.

"Princess!" They breathed in relief.

"She's all right," you assured, spying the maid leading a fully grown steer closer. "Is she below?"

"No, she's refusing to go down," a guard explained, making you nod.

"Come," you gestured the maid forward. Taking the lead rope, you directed the frightened cow inward; soon spying your emerald dragon as she bellowed in distain. Sand and pebbles fell from the ceiling. "Kasta, easy, easy. What is it, my girl?" You spoke in High Valyrian. "Easy, my sweet girl. Hey, hey, hey," you sassed when she growled at you, "what's all that for, hmm? I know you want to go out, my girl, but soon. I promise, you've got to mind your manners til then, sweetness," you had to pause to turn and heave the steer forward until you could latch the lead rope to the post driven into the sand.

Kasta sniffed the air, cocking her head in curiosity when she understood your offering. Her head swung over to look at you, chittering lightly, and you smiled.

"Yeah," you sighed, "that's all and only for you, sweet girl. Kasta, you need to go down, my girl. Hey? If I offer this steer, will you go down? I will be back in the next few days to take you out. Yes? Is that fair?"

She huffed lightly, shaking her neck and head out before huffing two nostrils of smoke.

"Yeah, that's my good girl," you praised, stepping back to a safe distance. Nodding, you gave her the command to set the horned-cow on fire, listening to it wail in pain for only a few moments before dragon fire engulfed it whole - killing it over.

You watched as your terrible beasty tore the cow apart, listening to the crunch of bone and slurping of flesh before there was nothing but a charred mark in the sand where the cow once stood. You nodded in pride, approaching Kasta's shoulder.

"Good girl," you boasted to her brightly, patting her hide. "Was that enough of an offering? Could you go down now? For me?"

She huffed, and you swore, if dragons could talk, she'd be grumbling to herself like a sassy teenager. You praised the great dragon the entire walk down under the Pit, leaving her in the Dragon Caves so she could curl up in her alcove begrudgingly. "Oh, I know. That's my very good and patient girl," you assured, scratching the scales of her head. "I will be back, and we will stretch your wings, my love. Soon, I swear it." She sighed sadly, a light stream of smoke billowing out. "I know, but today is very important... My brother's lineage is in question, and I must be present for the proceedings."

Her head lifted to tilt at you as if in question.

"I know," you assured with a patient hand. "It's been very stressful. I'll come back and tell you all about it, my sweet. How's that sound?"

Kasta let out a long huff and laid her head down, making you grin with acceptance and give her head a quick hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Patting her scales once more, you bid her a safe night before heading out and discovering the guards still gathered. Still trembling. Still scared out of their minds.

"She's all right," you informed the men with a sigh. "She's under the Pit in the Caves and she will not come out without me. She'll have an attitude, but she's doing well. Leave her be for now."

"Yes, Princess - thank you, Princess."

You nodded in response, wiping your hands on a spare cloth as you moved away from the Pit with a deep sigh; navigating through the city. By position in the sky, you wagered you had spent quite a bit of time there, and when you returned to the Keep, there was a commotion in the training yard that caught your attention.

Slowing your gait while you aimlessly wiped your hands still, you saw your husband in the middle of the commotion - but it was Ser Cole that was posing the challenger. You paused at your vantage point in the causeway to watch, not wincing like you used to as Cole took fatal swings because Aemond was truly a gifted warrior. You used to worry, but there was no use now.

Aemond was just too good.

At the end, your husband had flipped his sword in hand to position at Cole's thick, pale neck - signaling the end of the match. This earned a round of applause from the lingering bystanders, and for the Queen's sworn sword to compliment, "Well done, my Prince. You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

As you descended the stairs leading into the yard, you heard Aemond respond, "I don't give a shit about tourneys. My wife is all the prize I need. Nephews," he directed, sword hilt twirling effortlessly in his hand as his eye shifted over to the crowd, "have you come to train?"

But luck served its purpose, and a guard was shouting, "Open the gate!"

You sighed as you reached the crowd, passing a few drooling Ladies of the court to stalk up to your husband. Approaching his flank, you reached for his elbow first; his head snapping over but relaxing when he took in your face.

"My love," he greeted calmly, smirking gently, "I did not think to see you so soon. Did you catch the show?"

"I did," you nodded, smiling up at him. "You did well, my Prince. It was very impressive, indeed." You leaned up a bit to speak in his ear, "But you'll do well not to challenge my brothers like that again, yes?"

He nodded to you, "As you wish, pretty girl. Have you been to see your mother?"

"Not yet," you sighed, "I was called away to the Pit, Kasta was restless and the guards grew fearful."

"Hmm," he nodded once, easing his arm around your waist tightly as the gates had been wrenched open and your Uncle Vaemond's entourage entered into the Red Keep - waving the blue Velaryon banners. You sighed as Aemond took up a shield, his attention turned to the marching procession and unable to fight off his taunting smirk.

"Aemond," you sighed, jabbing his ribs with your elbow.

"What?" He asked innocently, another smirk in place.

"Behave yourself, please," you sighed, seeing Cole readying for a new fight. Leaning in, you held his waist to peck his lips, "Good luck, my Prince."

"Thank you, sweet girl," he whispered, smirking down at you before stealing his own kiss, and pulling away as he readied his sword. "My wins are in your name, of course."

"And your losses?" You teased him as you backed away a few paces, hearing him chuckle.

"I have none, Princess," he assured with a curt nod, which you understood was more of a wink for him. At least, between the two of you, that's what you understood.

Aemond relied on mostly nonverbal communication and after being married for a few years now, you could read him like you did Valyrian.

You sighed to yourself with a small grin as you approached your brothers, greeting, "Oh, who are these handsome lads? Surely not my wee brothers? All but scrawny last I saw them!" They turned swiftly and grinned at you, breathing your name as they both surged forward to latch onto you in greeting. One set of arms around your neck and the other around your waist. You laughed as you hugged them back, "Oh, my sweet boys! How good it is to see you, hold you again. Ah!"

"It is good to see you, too, sister," Jace beamed; you could hear it in his voice. The two pulled back to face you in full, and your hand reached to caress your younger brother's nervous face.

"Yes, I am glad you're here, too," Luke nodded after, glancing at his brother.

"Oh, worry not, my boy," you sighed, your thumb rubbing the skin of his chin, "for we all know you are the rightful heir to Driftmark, but because Lord Corlys does not have an obvious heir right now, this is just protocol. Though, because grandfather already settled this, I'd not worry at all, Lucerys," you reached for his shoulder then, giving it a squeeze. "You are not standing alone, and you know if it would help and come down to it, I will stand for you."

"You will?" he whispered, small tears gathering in his eyes. "I could not ask that of you..."

"I would never let you stand alone, Luke," you smiled. "Or you, Jace, ever. You both will always have me on your side," you nodded at your other brother. "Though people like to whisper, we share the same blood, and to our mother, the Heir to the Throne, and grandsire, current King, you are her true born sons. That is all that matters, my loves," you spoke with reassurance. "Now, might you want to sneak into the kitchens this me? I hear they're making lemon cakes..."

"Oh! Let's go," Jace beamed, nudging his brother into action. Either boy took your hand, and felt your husband's eye on your retreating form. For the following hours, you and your brothers pursued around the Red Keep with lemon cakes, meeting with your cousins, the Ladies Rhaena and Baela; all reminiscing on shared memories and fond moments from your childhood.

They asked how your life was in the Red Keep, and while you assure all four that you were okay, you smiled sadly as you told them that you missed them all dearly. They filled you in on what your mother was up to, how your step father, Daemon, faired; what they were learning, and how life was treating them as of late.

Rhaena still did not yet have a dragon, but you knew it could not be long before she had one to claim.

Baela was doing well, all things considered.

And outside of this legitimacy fiasco, your brothers were well, too.

When the time for the court proceedings drew nearer, Aemond found you in the Godswood with the other four. "Love," he called, stalking towards you stiffly.

"Oh, Aemond," you smiled.

"Though I hate to interrupt, we're needed, love," he nodded at you with meaning, and you understood.

Again, you knew how to read your husband incredibly well.

"Right," you nodded at him, letting his hand take yours as you turned to your brothers and cousins slash step-sisters. "I will see you lot in the throne room, yes?"

"We'll be there," Jace nodded, glancing at Aemond - who only watched you. "Thank you for the hospitality, sister."

"It is always a pleasure to host you, my siblings," you spoke softly, winking at them with a smile before letting Aemond lead you away. When you exited the Godwood with your dress' skirts in hand to save you from tripping, you asked, "I imagine the Queen has summoned us?"

"She wants a word before the court proceedings begin, yes," Aemond nodded, sighing sadly. "How are your brothers, my dear?"

"Good, thank you for asking," you whispered, smiling up at him. "It is good to see them. And my step-sisters are doing well, too."

"That is good news. It is good to see you so happy," he nodded, readjusting his hold on your hand so you stepped closer all the slightly. "Mother will want us to change before court."

"Saw that coming," you teased. "Wanna match?"

"Hm, what color are you thinking, love?"

"Black," you smirked, making him paused before his mother's chambers to chuckle. "You look very handsome in black."

"Deal," he winked, pecking your forehead as he knocked at the door. When it opened, Ser Cole was on the other side, and let you pass through the open doors.

"The Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N, Your Grace," he announced to your step-mother, who paced in front of the fireplace.

"Thank you, Ser Criston," she thanked, dismissing him, and leaving you three alone. "Would you like to sit?" She offered softly, gesturing to the seating before the fire.

Like you always did, you let Aemond take the reins when talking to his mother. "No, thank you, Mother. We are going to change before the trials, after this meeting."

"'Tis not a trial, Aemond, but only accounts we are hearing. Petitions," Alicent Hightower nodded to herself. "Speaking of, my Lady, might I ask which position you intend to take?"

Knowing now was the time, you assured the King's wife, "The same position I plan to always take, Your Grace. That of my husband."

She nodded once, "Good. That is good to hear."

"Though, should I need to, I am prepared to come to my brother's defense," you spoke strongly, feeling Aemond stiffen slightly. "I do not intend for it, but should my Uncle Vaemond want to drawl me into his petition, trying to cite me, again, as absurd evidence, then I am prepared to support the Prince Lucerys' claim."

Alicent offered a solemn smile, "I would expect little else, dear girl. Very well, then..."

"If it's any peace of mind, Your Grace, I do not intend to stray from my husband's side. It is only if I am forced to, that I am prepared to defend my brother. And I only expect my Uncle Vaemond to do such, my mother nor brother would never."

"I understand," Alicent offered a smile. "Thank you for your honesty."

"Of course, Your Grace," you nodded, bowing to her after.

"If question of my wife's loyalties was all, Mother, we're going to take our leave to change before hearing these... Petitions," Aemond spoke with a hardened tick he rarely took with his mother, cocking his head slightly at the end.

"All right, yes, go on," she dismissed, waving you both out as she turned to resume her nervous pacing. You would've asked if she was all right, but decided against it.

"Everything all right, my love?" You asked when the door shut behind you and Aemond - him tugging you towards your rooms. "Hey, hey, hey, hang on a bit, my legs don't move as fast as yours, love!"

He slowed his gait, sighing lightly, "Sorry, sweet girl. Forget how fast I move sometimes."

"Yeah, 's all right, love, but are you all right?" You asked again. "Got a bit lippy with your Mum, didn't you?"

"Well, she does this often enough," he seethed slightly. "Questions your loyalties even after all these years. It's fucking ridiculous."

"She questioned my mother, she'll question me," you sighed, not wanting to stir him up. "I do not wish to say it is okay, but in a strange way, I do understand it."

"Shouldn't have to," he grumbled, arriving at your chamber doors and pushing them open.

"Well, it's our reality," you rebutdtaled as you moved past him to enter your rooms. "Is that truly what plagues you, husband?" You wondered gently after he shut the door, hands to your hips.

"For now," he sighed. "How was your mother?"

"I told you, I haven't been able to see her yet," you admitted. "I was gathered before I could see her to deal with Kasta."

"Yes... What was wrong, again?" He wondered softly, moving to select something more appropriate for your time in court.

"She is annoyed with me," you chuckled, stripping from your dress to favor the new black gown you chose to wear. "She wants to fly but I have not had time as of late."

"Hmm."

"I will take her out soon," you promised your husband as your had your dragon. "There's more on my mind currently."

He nodded, fixing a new tunic and jerkin on over his pale torso. "Things like your brother's standing as Lord of the Tides?"

You huffed before snapping, "He's the rightful heir, I do not know why this is suddenly back in bloody question. I'm sure mother's been overwhelmed with this, and I have not been there to aid her."

"Why would she be stressed?"

"How would you feel if your children's birth was called into question around every fucking corner?" You sent him a hardened look, pausing your ministrations to stare at him with malcontent. Your eyes dared him to argue with you.

"Well... When you look like you, and they look like them... Love," he sighed, pleading for you to see his reason.

"You act as if our familial traits cannot do funny things through bloodlines and time," you snipped, crossing your arms. "The Gods favored me only by allowing me white hair and the paler complexion of my father - and the boys were not so lucky. That does not make them any less Targaryen, Aemond, and I will not have this argument with you again!"

Aemond sighed and wanting to placate your ebbing and waning anger, agreed, "You are right, my love. I'm sorry for pushing."

"It's all right," you sighed, shaking your head as you went back to work, "it's not like I'm stupid or blind. I know we look different, but it does not mean that we do not share the same blood."

"No," he nodded, reaching for you to help lace up your gown. "But for now, they will plead their petitions - "

"Uncle Vaemond is the only one with a fucking petition because Luke is the rightful heir," you corrected.

"Right," he nodded in agreement, patting your waist when he was done lacing you in. "Ready, pet?"

"In a moment, yes," you sighed, reaching for a new, extravagant jewelry set - one Aemond had gifted you on your name day, the first one you shared together after you took his last name as your own.

When you were in your new gown and boots and your jewels attached properly, and your husband was changed into a new tunic, jerkin, and trousers with boots; you laced your hands together, and out the door you went. There was a growing crowd outside the courtroom, and as you drew nearer, the procession was halted to allow you passage first.

Your husband's name was announced first, and then your own; letting the two of you descend into the courtroom together. Behind you, other patrons were allowed entrance after you were a distance inside. You saw your mother and brothers standing there, smiling at her before taking your place at Aemond's side behind his family. You saw your name form on your mother's lips before she was returning your smile, only looking away when Otto Hightower, your step-grandsire and Hand of the King, took his place in front of the Iron Throne.

How wrong it looked to spy a Hightower at the legendary Throne, but you knew he was only exercising his common occupancy of being a placeholder. With the thought in mind, you let your hand press to Aemond's stomach as his hand curled around your waist; turning your attention, obediently, towards the front of the courtroom. Aegon, Helaena, and Alicent stood in front of you both, but neither you nor Aemond seemed to mind; as the second row provided optimal viewing.

Otto's voice boomed over all as he started the proceedings, "Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters." He turned slightly to guide himself to the edge of the Throne's seat. "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

"Oh, Gods, here we go," you whispered, your husband smirking and tightening his arm as your great-uncle stepped forward to the attention of the courts.

"Shh," Aemond shushed quietly with a smirk stretching across his lips to assure you he was entirely entertained by the events.

"My Queen," Vaemond greeted Alicent first with a respectful nod of his head. "My Lord Hand," he addressed Otto. "The history of our noble Houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our Houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name..." His voice raised to address the whole of the court, and Aemond's hand curled and pet over your waist in an effort to soothe you. "I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys' closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

You wanted to protest, but your mother, ever the protective Mama Bear, spoke first with interjection, "As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your House's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and your own ambition."

Without missing a single beat, Queen Alicent was calling, "You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard."

You lifted your chin with a clenched jaw, watching your mother's head turn from Alicent to stare forward again, as Vaemond's smug face turned to stare her down. "What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess, outside of your only daughter?" He sneered, making Aemond's arm constrict to pulled you a step closer so you were nearly standing on top of his feet. This was what he feared, you being pulled in, but you remained silent with a hand pressed flat to your husband's chest. "I could cut our veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it." Your mother nodded, as if making a mental note of the insults he projected - not missing the veiled threat to you. "This is about the future and survival of my House, not yours."

You let out a soft huff when you could see Luke's face full of fear, looking down to your feet for a moment to recenter yourself; Aemond's thumb rubbing with reassurance - something that Daemon, your step father, clocked from his position across the way. Your hand briefly pet down his chest to then rest against his stomach again, an effort to remain close... To remain safe.

Your Uncle Vaemond turned from glowering smugly at your mother and her family, to then face the front of the room again, addressing, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition." You missed the way your brothers glared at your husband, who stared back with unnerve, because your own violet eyes glared at your father's uncle. "I place the continuation of the survival of my House and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor... The Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

You sighed through your nose as Otto called, "Thank you, Ser Vaemond." There was a sickly pause as Vaemond nodded, your mother looking like she was visibly trembling; and your brother-by-law looked far too pleased and amused by the proceedings. Aemond kept his usual mask of neutrality, but his arm was heavy around you as your feet shifted your weight. "Princess Rhaenyra," Otto called, "you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

You smiled softly as your mother stepped up in a gorgeous black gown that had red and gold embroidery around the hemlines; coming to a halt in the middle of the courtroom to be presented. Her hands discreetly caressed the front of her pregnant belly.

"Never have I witnessed a man threaten a Princess so boldly and get away with it," she spat towards Vaemond, "and if you ever speak of my daughter again, I will ensure it be the last time you speak. Now..." She faced the front again. "If I am to grace this farce with some answer," she spat again, as she could not hold back her temper from Otto or Alicent, "I will start by reminding the court," but behind her, the throne room's door opened with a heavy clang, "that nearly 20 years ago, in this very cour - " She cut herself off, turning with shock to spy who had entered the room during an official hearing, but never did anyone imagine the late arriving newcomer.

Two guards opened the doors, and two more entered first, with only one announcing, "King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name," your mother's head snapped over to catch your eyes, both of you sharing a look of utter shock, "King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men." Otto rose from his seat on the Iron Throne slowly, staring with disbelief as your mother's father, your husband's father, your grandsire used a cane to help him hobble into the room. "Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

The entire courtroom bowed in respect as nobody could believe their eyes; having the impression that King Viserys, the Peaceful, was not soon for the world. Yet here he was, dressed in his robes, golden face mask in place to his the injuries his illness has left, and with a decades-old, ancestral crown sat on his balding head, limping into the throne room. Yes, he limped severely, and yes, he required a cane, but by the Gods, this was something akin to a miracle.

You felt tears of pride swelling in your eyes, knowing the babe you grew in your womb would wreck havoc on your emotions, and in an effort to not give anyone reason to question your tears, willed them away. But it was a powerful moment to watch your grandsire, and technically, father-by-law, show the court that he is not yet done with this world, and what an entrance to make.

You knew that with Viserys present, there was no real need for Rhaenyra to give her petition. However, your eyes clocked the way Vaemond looked from the Queen to the Hand with distraught, disbelieving confusion. Your eyes cut over and met that of your step-father, your single brow perking in conversation; and he subtly gave a nod of his head before turning back to watching Viserys.

But it was obvious both you and Daemon had noticed the same motions and figured it meant Vaemond had struck some deal with the Hightowers prior to the current court hearing.

How interesting, indeed.

With worry, you asked quietly to Aemond, "Should one of us help him?"

"No, sweet girl, 's all right," he assured in your ear. "Father's a proud man," he let his forehead rest against your temple; finding your kindness a breath of fresh air in the otherwise tangibly tense room.

Aemond eventually took both of your hands in your own as if to keep you anchored at his side, but your body had turned to watch the King; and as his sunken, dried, deadened eye turned, your grandsire caught sight of your encouraging smile amongst a sea of envious Green - who all provided unsure looks of shock.

A few steps later, and he saw the relieved look on his beloved daughter's face - and Viserys knew, he made the right choice in coming today.

When he leveled with Otto, the King breathed through a wheeze, "I will sit the Throne today."

You had to hold your breath to resist the scream of laughter and excitement you wanted to give. What a moment - what a fucking moment to bear witness to. And by the small smirk on your husband's lips when his gaze darted down to meet your eyes, he was feeling something akin to pride. Aemond let loose a small snort of air out of amusement, patting your hip before gripping it once more.

"Your Grace," Otto agreed, stepping away as the King tried to make it up the stairs by himself and his cane.

The whole hall echoed the the thumps of his cane and groans, moans, and grunts of determination - as well as unfiltered pain. When his guards tried to help, King Viserys refused help, and only made it a few shuffles on his feet before the crown on his thinning head clattered to the stone floor.

But tears sprung to your eyes involuntarily when Daemon stepped up beside his brother and picked up his ancestral, golden crown.

Viserys, again, tried to refuse aid, but when he saw his brother's patient face and heard his whispered encouragement, the King allowed his brother to help him. Such a moment you were feeling privileged to witness, because what a moment it was - to see Daemon, the once scorned, reckless Prince of the City, who had been disinherited as Viserys' heir in favor of your mother, Rhaenyra, helping his weakened, sickly brother up to take his seat on the Iron Throne. He then placed the golden crown to his head, taking a moment to absorb his brother's very being, and then turn to head off the Throne's pedestal.

Daemon returned to your mother's side on the court's floor; both taking their posts around their children as your hand slid into Aemond's to hold in a vice. Viserys readjusted in his seat as your husband didn't care for your positioning, pulling you closer by your waist and settling there.

Through panting breath, Viserys called to the court, "I must... Admit... My confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. Only one present... Who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys' wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

All eyes, including yours, turned to look at your grandmother - who stood with her ward, Rhaena, who was Daemon and your aunt, Laena Velyaron's, daughter. Baela, their other daughter, had chose to remain, it seems, with her father and step-mother.

Princess Rhaenys is married to Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, where the two shared two children - you aunt Laena, and your father, Laenor; both of whom were deceased. Now, with Lord Coryls' severe wounds, it seems only his wife can provide proper insight to what his wishes are following his death.

Gods forbid it came to that...

Inclining her head, your grandmother, who was years ago passed over to succeed the Iron Throne in favor of your grandsire, Viserys, agreed, "Indeed, Your Grace." With a solemn look to her brother-by-law, Vaemond, she moved for the center of the court. When she came to a halt, she kept her voice even and diplomatic, "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor, to his trueborn son... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him." You noticed her words drew the attention of the Greens, remaining silent. "As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corlys' granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena." You noted the looks your brothers offered your mother, smirking gently. "A proposal to which I heartily agree."

Your stepmother shook her head in displeasure, and you realized, while Vaemond had sought the Queen and Hand's council, your mother had alined herself with Princess Rhaenys - and it was checkmate.

Your mother had the upper hand, and now with the Princess' words, you knew she had solidified her son's position. Well played, Mother...

"Well... The matter is settled," Viserys decided. "Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon," heads turned to look at the boy, "as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Hearing Viserys wheeze in punctuation, Rhaenys turned from her place, sending a small smirk to Rhaenyra, and moved back towards her granddaughter, your cousin and step-sister, Rhaena.

But the matter was far from settled.

"You break law..." Vaemond seethed, stepping up to the King's attention, "and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me... Who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon... No... I will not allow it," he hissed in anger.

"'Allow it'?" Viserys repeated. "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

You flinched gently when Vaemond turned to point an accusatory finger at your younger brother, "THAT is no true Velaryon," he turned back to the King, "and certainly no nephew of mine."

"Go to your chambers," you mother demanded of your brothers. To Vaemond, she directed, "You have said enough."

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson," Viserys reiterated. "And you... Are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

"You... May run your House as you see fit... But you will not decide the future of mine. My House survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides!" He growled. His head whipped around to glare at Rhaenyra. "And Gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this - " He took a breath to finish his sentence but pursed his lips, reminding him that he was in the presence of the King. He held his tongue.

Across the way, you saw your step-father challenge under his breath, "Say it."

Your spine straightened as Aemond's hand rubbed deftly up and down in assurance, everyone waiting for Vaemond's next words. Even Viserys cocked his head as he waited with a pant to his lungs.

"Her children," Vaemond started quietly - but all still heard him, "are BASTARDS!"

"Hey, hey," Aemond whispered, both arms around you when you shifted in place - wanting to throw some punches, but your husband restrained you.

Anger shifted around your family, both boys doing little to hide their disrespect; you doing little to hide your acute anger. Daemon caught your eye and you saw him raise a silent finger, sighing, and relaxing into Aemond's chest. He even breathed a sigh of relief when you did, pressing a quick peck to your temple as if to thank you for backing down - saving him from a fight.

"And she..." Vaemond turned forward to tell the King, "Is... A whore."

The crowd gasped, Aemond smirked, and his arms tightened around you - despite your frozen shock. Truth of the matter was that both Laenor and Daemon had taken time to train you themselves on Dragonstone with a sword, so, you felt as if your odds at taking on the older Velaryon were better than most.

But your attention turned towards the King as he hobbled from his Throne with a hefty glare. "I..." He breathed, yanking his dagger free from his belt, but your eyes watched Daemon as he moved stoically, almost invisible to the court as they were all waiting for Viserys' judgement; the King panting, "Will have your tongue for that!"

Before you could yell not to, your step-father had unsheathed his sword and expertly cleaved Dark Sister to slice clean through Vaemond's head. You flinched some and Aemond turned his body to turn you away from the sight, blood splattering across the floor. Helaena and Alicent turned away, too, Aemond seemingly unable to look away, as Aegon only turned his head to the side with disgust.

When the dead body hit the floor with a squelch, you could see that Daemon had sliced clean through the man's skull - and only his jaw and tongue were attached - the latter flopping to the side uselessly. Standing above the body, Daemon glared down at him with Dark Sister planted to the ground, his hands folded over the hilt.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon leered.

"DISARM HIM!" Otto snapped back into his senses from shock, hollering to the King's Guard; making a chorus of unsheathing swords sing.

"No need," Daemon brushed off casually, catching your eye to drop a quick, reassuring wink as he lifted his blade to wipe it clean while he moved back for his wife's side - ever the protective husband.

But you seemingly heard him first, and caught sight of Viserys' strength failing him, "Alicent - the King," you rushed to tell her.

Her head snapped around as Viserys collapsed, moaning in discomfort. "Call the Maesters!" She cried, a hand briefly squeezing your forearm in thanks before rushing up the stairs to catch her husband's failing figure.

"Father?" Rhaenyra stepped up, and while you wanted to rush for her, the King was the most pressing matter, and you paused at Aemond's side. Though the King never truly showed his sons love, you knew in some twisted way that he did; and so did Aemond in that moment, for his face showed concern while you felt his body tense.

You turned to press into his side, under his tight arm, and with your hand flat to his chest, muttered, "'S all right, love. He's got help."

He nodded mutely at you, trying to relax as a guard took Viserys under his arm - the Maester racing to the scene, and together, they helped the groaning King down from his Throne. You pet over your husband's chest as the King was escorted away, leaving Queen Alicent before the Throne, and Rhaenyra at the base of the pedestal.

How odd to see... Alicent standing above Rhaenyra. Green above Black. Hightower above the mighty Dragon.

The turn of the tide was soon to crash over the House of the Dragon, and from the image before you, you worried the Hightowers would topple the structure of your beloved family. Aemond sighed heavily, his head tilted towards your ear. "C'mon, my love. Please."

You sighed and let his hand tangle with yours, waiting for dismissal - but after the King leaves, there is little need to linger. You could not yet speak to your mother, step-father, brothers, or cousins, but you managed to catch your mother's eyes - nodding once, to which she returned the motion, and then Aemond was striding out of the hall with you in tow. His siblings might've followed, you're unsure, because your feet had to jog to catch up with your husband's elongated strides.

When you got to your chambers, he ushered you inside and shut the door before locking it. "Aemond?" You asked in a breath.

"What was that?" He asked, starting to pace the length of your room. "What the bloody hell was that? Huh!?"

"Aemond, calm yourself a moment to explain to me what you're on about."

"That!" He roared, hand held up in gesture.

"Sadly, that was just Daemon being Daemon. He's rash, my love, and has always operated by his own want, merit, and doing. He cares very little for political politeness. Even when he was heir after Viserys, before my mother, he was ruthless. He's calmed down considerably, but he is still brash. Do not let Daemon startle you - "

"I am not startled."

"Then what is this?" You asked, sighing with a gesture towards him.

"It is strange, is it not? That he can behave in such a manner?"

"He's the King's brother," you shrugged a bit.

"I am the King's son," he snapped, "and yet when his grandsons attack me, he favored them over me. Even after I was disfigured! What am I doing wrong? Hey? His brother is allowed to openly murder a man, yet I lose an eye without consequence, and for what?"

"Vaemond Velaryon offered deep, troubling, public insult to the crown heir of this kingdom," you snapped. "Nevermind he also seemed to have threatened your wife, my dear husband! Mind your fucking manners for that is still my mother and our future Queen you speak of. Vaemond decided to raise ill word to her, insulting her seed, insulting the King's seed, threatening to make me bleed, and Daemon does not handle disrespect well." You were enraged, but your heart also shattered in your chest for your husband. You stepped up so you could take his hands in your own, "But I am so sorry for what happened years ago, Aemond, I truly am, my sweet love." His hands tore from yours in favor of squeezing your waist closer to him. "It is not fair and justice was never served for your injuries, but I implore you to see that this jealousy will not get you anywhere. You forget, my young brother is heir after my mother, and my brother after is heir to Driftmark. But I, my sweet, am heir to Dragonstone. When the time is right, you and I can be away from this political foolishness and have our own homestead to rule over. You will not always endure being a second son, because you will be Lord of Dragonstone. Hmm? We will not always have reason to play by everyone else's rules."

He sighed, chuckling lightly after, "Aye, you know how to soothe me, don't you?"

"I'd be a pretty terrible wife if I did not," you teased softly. "Vaemond made a mistake, my love, and while I will not justify Daemon, I cannot say I am surprised. He is not named the Rogue Prince for nought. But I do know there will be no consequences to his actions."

"And how fair does that seem, wife?"

"It is not, husband," you sighed, "but there is little to be done."

"Like there was little to be done when I lost my eye?"

You frowned, caressing his cheek softly before reaching for both his eye patch and hair clip; releasing his silver locks first. His eye closed and his head bowed some to then let you lift the leather patch from his face. "Would you look at me? Please?" You asked softly, caressing his cheek again to let your thumb run over the under side of his scar softly. When his violet eye met your amethyst orbs, he shuddered a small breath. "The loss of your eye is truly unfortunate, and I cannot extend my deepest sympathies for it. But it does not take away from you," you let your eyes rake over the injury, the sapphire he liked to put in his bare socket almost winking at you in the torchlight. "I find you incredibly beautiful, my sweet husband." Your eyes moved to his, "And nothing is going to change my love for you. Eye or no eye... So long as your love remains mine, I do not wish for anything else. You are all I need in a husband, in a partner," his hands tightened to a bruising strength, pressing you against his front - and growing bulge, "and I love you exactly the way you are."

Aemond, a man of little words, surged forward to lock your lips in a searing kiss; earning a high-pitched whine from you. His arms locked around you, your hands gripping his neck as if he was the only thing keeping you upright. Aemond felt emotion swell in his chest and started to back you up towards the bed; leaning you down to sit on the bed, hands locked in your hair.

He smirked when your teeth pulled over his bottom lip, letting it snap back into place. "Lay back," he ordered quietly, aiding you by means of guiding your legs up to help you push back on the bed. His smirk didn't falter as he unlaced your boots and then pulled them off, caressing your bare feet after pulling your stockings off. His hands then moved up your calves, pushing the skirts of your dress up as he went. With your feet planted, he pushed your knees apart and let your skirts fall up your hips.

He let his gaze rake over you, his nose exhaling a deep sigh.

Your head cocked slightly, asking as you reached for him, "What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing," he assured swiftly, pausing to start unlacing his leather jerkin. "Just appreciating the view of my stunning wife."

You pulled yourself up onto your elbows, smiling at him, "You know this view well, do you not?"

"I will not tire of it," he nodded, finally ridding his upper half naked, much to your appreciation. "I do swear you get more beautiful as time passes. How blessed I am."

Sliding yourself to sit up, you let your hair tumble around one shoulder as you watched him. When he moved towards you again, you held a hand in pause to him, making him halt in wonder as you explained, "The pants, too, my Lord."

He smirked, "You do not wish to dispose of them yourself?"

"I want to watch you," your voice lowered, standing from the bed only to pull all your under clothes off from underneath your skirts. Dropping them at his feet, you looked him up and down as prey did predator before moving for the spare table. Pouring yourself a goblet of wine, you moved back for the bed to sit, cross your bare legs, and take a hefty sip as your brows perked. With your eyes watching your husband, you prompted, "Well? Do you mean to disobey your wife? I did not think I'd have to ask twice."

His fingers slowly, tauntingly, yanked at the leather strings of his trousers; never once breaking eye contact with you as you took another gulp. In the effort to finish your cup before he was done, you took another drawl as Aemond yanked the hips of his britches open; then shucking them from his hips.

Your head cocked with a tease, swallowing another mouthful of sweet wine as he tugged the leather trousers down his muscular thighs, and then finally, down around his calves.

"Keep going," you whispered, his hands pulling his boots free, tossing them to the side; and then finishing by freeing his legs, tossing his leather pants away. They landed near his boots, but still, his eye did not break free from yours. You finished your wine.

Slowly, your tongue licked between the seam of your lips, tasting the sweet Dornish wine Aemond preferred. You hummed lightly, smirking at your husband, making him prompt, "And now, my Princess?" He took confident steps forward, making your legs uncross to spread and welcome him. "What would you have of me, wife?"

"On your knees," you whispered when his face hovered over yours. He took the goblet from your hands and let it clatter to the floor.

"Hmm. On your back first, love," he purred in response, making you smile when his hands swiftly bunched your skirts up to your waist, lowering himself as he went until he was perfectly level with your bare cunt. He breathed across your lower wetted lips, taking a tasting lick. He hummed, "Just as I thought you could not be more perfect. Gods, you taste delectable, my sweet girl."

Before you could speak his name in reprimand, he opened his mouth, and dove tongue first into your weeping heat. All that fell from your lips were breathless moans and his name chanted like a prayer; legs spreading wider to accommodate his broad shoulders while your head tipped back in pleasure.

With desperate fingers, you pulled at your dress to free your arms and wrangle from the garment; his hand instantly shooting up your body to palm your breast with near relief, kneading it with fervor. His mouth engulfed the whole of your cunt, moving both tongue and jaw to lap at the juices you secreted from arousal.

He hummed against your clit, tongue messily wagging back and forth; hand tight on your tit, the other holding your hip in place. "Aemond," you begged shrilly, without breath; mind lost to his ministrations. Your hand tightened in his free flowing locks. "Wait, wait, wait," you panted, over come by the feeling he provided you. But he bore down, keeping you in place, and the hand that had once twisted your nipple dropped to sweep against your weeping hole.

With a wanton cry from you, his fingers pushed in, and the combined pressure of his fingers pumping in and out of you relentlessly with his lips sucking on your puckered clit sent you to heaven.

A warm flushed your body, and your blood began to sing as you were overwhelmed with the adrenaline rush - gasping for Aemond, hands fisting his hair, and keeping him close to your cunt; resulting in you releasing over his mouth, chin, and fingers.

"Ah, that's it," he praised, not relenting his finger's motions to only glance up at you, "keep going, my sweet girl, that's it. Good girl, yes," he gazed back at your cunt, speeding his fingers up when your back arched, and a moment later, a second wave crashed and Aemond was laughing as you squirted over him - again.

"Ae-Aemond," you pleaded brokenly, nearly wriggling with pleasure.

"One more, one more, one more," he grunted, one arm now holding your hips down as the other rapidly spurred into you to prod at that spongy-good spot within your walls. His drool dripped onto your puffy clit before he descended to suck his lips over you. "Yes, yes, yes, good girl, that's it, fucking soak me, go on, yes, that's my girl, one more, one more," he praised in a chant, holding you down as your hips bucked and for a final time, spewed over your husband's chin and chest.

"Oh, my Gods," you panted, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes involuntarily; chest heaving as your legs felt limp, yet simultaneously alight with a buzz. "N-No more, please. Gods..."

"Yeah? You all right, precious girl?" He chuckled, crawling up your body. He paused for a moment to finally yank your dress off you; raising your hips to help him before crashing back to the bed.

"Yeah," you panted still. "Gods, where did that come from, hey?"

"You're surprised?" he chuckled, laying beside you a moment; letting his head dip down to kiss your neck.

"No," you admitted, chuckling a bit. "Just not used to it, yet."

"Your body sings for me, pet," he whispered, letting his tongue rake up sweaty skin. After biting at your throat gently, he wondered, "Got another in you?"

"Anything for you, my Prince," you whispered, petting his cheek to raise his lips to yours. He groaned when your teeth bit his lip, making him press harder into you; bare, throbbing cock pressing into your hip. "Aemond," you begged, reaching for his twitching member; hearing his breath sharpen and stagger.

"On your stomach, sweetheart," he smirked, petting down your waist. When you felt his hand purposefully skate across your lower stomach, you worried he felt the change in your body.

"Maybe not," you pouted some.

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly.

Your hand laid over his, curling around it to hold. "Well, I'm soon to start my cycle and I believe the fish the other night wasn't good. I just feel bloated, not myself."

He hummed, "Do you feel unwell?"

"No."

"Then it is of no concern to me because you know you're perfect in my eyes," he chuckled a bit, leaning in to kiss you fully. "Let me fuck you, pretty girl."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever my Lord husband wants," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, easing from under his body to plant your feet on the ground but lay your stomach on the bed, giving your hips a quick wiggle. "Hmm?"

"Good girl," he growled, wasting no time in leaping off the bed after you; planting his feet between yours, and after giving a single sweep of his cock up your slick, he pushed his hips forward until fully sheathed inside you. The both of you moaned, and while you thought your husband often insatiable, you would not get used to his size nor girth; often craving it.

You panted beneath him, feeling his hands move from your hips to waist to your back and then your hair and to your shoulders then to waist, again. All the while, as if energized by something you could not see, his hips hammered into the back of yours; making your hands fist your sheets in tune to his low, growling grunts.

You begged his name as if for relief, but it fell on deaf ears.

Aemond was chasing his orgasm now (that had built all day), letting his fingers find your clit to rapidly toy with it; feeling your knees buckle into the side of the mattress. You let your face screw up slightly as your orgasm was damn-near blinding, nearly collapsing into the bed as Aemond's hands seized your hips to hump all the hard, all the faster.

"FUCK!" You shouted from a twinge of pain, feeling him stretching you - prodding into spots deep within your walls, and feeling your pleasure mount to new heights. Your hands once held the sheets now shot back to grab at his forearms, trying to alleviate the pressure you felt, but he did not falter - nor slow - his hammering hips.

"That's it, I know you can fucking take it, like a good fucking girl," Aemond snarled, one hand holding your hips as the other reached out to wrap in your hair and yank back. Your back bowed and your chest rose; a guttural moan ripping from your throat with near pain from the pull to your scalp. But when you were close enough, his arm helped adjust you; one hand in your hair as the other wrapped around your chest. His hips did not falter in their movements, that now pounded into you upwards. "That's my girl," his lips spoke in your ear, wetting the shell of it before giving a scrape of his teeth. "Always so fucking good for me, so wet and willing. Just sucking me in, Seven fucking Hells."

"Aemond," you whimpered now, almost delirious as one of your hands drifted down your body to finger your clit while the other helped you keep your position.

"Get there, my love," he encouraged, licking at your neck. "C'mon, pretty girl. Get there, I feel you squeezing me - lemme fucking feel you gush all over me."

It did not take long, and within a few strokes, you were tumbling over the cliffside; Aemond following only a few moments after to paint your inner walls with his hot ropes of cum. You both let yourselves fall forward to the bed, and your husband did his best to hold his balance off of you. But his chest rose and fell with trepidation, making you reach back to pet over his cheek.

His hair was damp from sweat, your own no real different.

Aemond heaved for breath as he pulled his softening cock from your cunt, shoving himself up the bed before reaching for you, and yanking you up by grabbing under your arms. You whined, naturally, but settled when he had laid you against his chest; pausing only to readjust comfortably against him, one leg hitching over his hips. "Please tell me we are done for the day?" You sighed against his flushed chest, manicured nail tracing patterns over his breast. "We're not needed elsewhere, right?"

"I believe we're done for the day, yes, my love," he sighed softly, kissing your forehead.

"Hmm," you nodded, playfully nipping at his pebbled nipple.

"Hey, now. Do not tempt me, I will take you again right now."

You grinned up at him when his arm tightened. But before you could say anything, there was a (dreaded) knock at your door. "Prince Aemond?" A servant called through the wood, making your head fall to his chest with a defeated sigh.

Your husband huffed and grumbled a curse while sitting up to yank a blanket from the bottom of your bed; swiftly covering both of your lower halves with your chest pressed to his side for protection.

"Come in," he lazily demanded, laying back to the headboard with an arm behind his head, and looking to the opening door. His other hand lazily drug calloused fingertips over the plain of your bare back, sending a legion of goose flesh over your flesh and for a shiver to shoot down your spine. "What is it?" He asked stoically of the servant.

"M-My Prince, Princess," the servant nervously stuttered, bowing with respect, "my apologies for the intrusion, but the Hand has called for a dinner later in the evening."

"I'm sorry?" Aemond snipped, making your hand thump against his chest in silent reprimand. He adjusted his tone when he asked, "What's that to mean?"

"The K-King, my Prince, has called for a dinner. The Hand is tasked with delivering the message and ensuring the royal family attends."

You sighed and whispered, "'S fine, love. Dinner sounds nice."

Aemond nodded, waving the servant out, "There a time?"

"Sundown, my Prince."

"That will be all," he dismissed with finality.

"Thank you!" You called, hearing the door shut right after. You chuckled, "You could stand to be a bit nicer, you know. It will not kill you, my love, I promise."

"They're lucky they knocked when they did. Should they have arrived minutes prior, I might've had to knock around a skull or two," he grumbled.

You chuckled slightly, "Perhaps you'd fancy a trip to the training yard, my love? Work out your frustrations with a sword?"

"Usually you offer yourself," he teased.

"I need to be able to walk if we are to have dinner with the King tonight," you covered, leaning up to peck his lips. "But I can feel your tension, just thought you'd want to hack your sword into something."

"Have another uncle I could dice up?" He teased.

"Oh, you're so bloody funny, ha-ha," you teased, feeling his lips spread in a grin across your forehead. With a sigh, you let yourself relish in the few moments more you had with your husband - before he would rise, dress, and depart, and you'd be left alone to figure out what the hell to wear that evening. You've already worn most of your dresses that concealed your swelling-belly, wondering what else was left in your wardrobe to use.

After another few moments to stretch in bed, you called for your handmaiden, Amira, and rose to tie a dressing robe over your bare figure. While you waited for her arrival, you chose proper undergarments and in an effort to save yourself embarrassment, dressed quickly before retying your robe - where moments later, Amira knocked, and began the process that would ensure you wore the perfect gown for dinner.

Something proper that would not give away the shape of your belly, and therefore, uncover your secret.

•

[ in chronological order: When Pride Married Prejudice // WPMP part two // Petitions // Distraction // The Inky Green Council // Bearer of Bad News ]

melting Ice - Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You are about to marry Aemond Targaryen. Your arrival at the Reed Keep is greeted with coldness and you have a hard time settling in and coming to terms with marrying into this strange family. But after a restless evening you can't take it anymore and go to talk to Aemond. This evening brings you and your betrothed a little closer as he lets you see behind his facade.

Words: 2.971

Warnings: angst?, arranged marriage, insecure Aemond

A/N: Frist time writing Aemond // English is not my first language// no beta reader// Gif not mine // no use of Y/N// AO3

I hope you like this :)

You crawl through your stuff. You've been back in Red Keep for a week, but your belongings are not all unpacked jet.

The hot summer air radiate through the stones of your new home and you whipe away a few drops of sweat from your brows. You miss the light briese that always go through your cambers in  Casterly Rock. The heat in Kings Landing is muggy and brings the stank from the city and not the fresh air of the sea. But you're gonna have to get used to it. It's unlikely you'll ever see your home again. Not once you're married. This is the fate of thousands of Ladies in the seven Kingdomes . You all get shipped of to marry and never come back home.

You sigh. At least you won't marry a man who could be your father or grandfather. No, you're the future bride of Aemond Targaryen. Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Maybe you have luck with your husbands age. And you will become a princess. That's the dream of thousands of young ladies, and you can live it. From the outside it sounds perfect. Like a song. The reality is different. In reality, you are a pawn in the game of power, securing the loyalty and armies of your family for the Targaryens. This marriage is a reward for years of service from your family.

For your betrothed you are a burden. You're back here for a week and maybe you exchanged two sentences with the prince. He was in no way rude, but neither was he really warm. You got the feeling it was more of a inconvenient for him than anything else. He doesn´t want to spend any minute with you. He ignored your invitations to go for a walk or for a afternoon tea.

Instead he dumped you on his sister. Helaena, a sweet girl who is fixated on insects and with her thoughts everywhere except in the here and now. But she was the only one that makes you feel you are welcome here. She was the one who showed you around and invited you to tea, go on picnics, walk in the gardens or do handicrafts. She also introduced you to her twins. Sweet children that you can't keep apart yet.

The Queen only gave you a cold smile and explained her wedding preparations to you, she didn´t ask for you opinion of your wedding. But you think that´s the way your life is from now on.

Aegon, your future brother in law is an arrogant prince who likes to drink and spend his time with whores. Not one nice word comes over his lip just a rude remark about your appearance as the whole family greets you after your arrival.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and rub your temple to get rid of the slight headache.

At Casterly Rock you felt trapped. A golden cage guarded by lions. Your cage is still there, only now you're being guarded by dragons.

Is this your life now? Lonely and alone surrounded by strangers? This is not how you imagined it all. You've known half your life that you would be Aemond's wife. The betrothal was make when you were just a little girl. And of course you were excited to become a princess. Your stupid little girl dreams were full of romance, love and your knightly prince with blonde hair.

And for a little while you had hope. When you were younger, you went to King's Landing with your mother to get to know your future husband. He was a sweet, almos shy boy, with a kind smile who had discussed history with you for hours or dance with you at a picnic. You thought your stupid girls dreams were coming true.

But now there is nothing left of the boy from your memories.

Aemond Targaryen had grown into a cold man who had an almost dangerous aura around him and observed everything with an arrogant distance. The sweet smile you remembered is gone. You're sure he hasn't smiled in years.

Will your marriage be like this? Married to a stranger?

You put a few of your writing utensils on your desk. Your thoughts go to the letters you wrote to Ameond over the years, but one day he just stopped answering you. Did you do something wrong?

Was this marriage doomed to failure from the beginning?

You sigh again and try to push your thoughts from the past away.

It had been a sunny day that slowly turned into a beautiful evening. The setting sun is still shining in your window. You've already had your dinner with your mother and now there's nothing left for you to do. But you are restless. The thoughts of your future life do not allow you to find peace. Gods you are a Lannister from Casterly Rock. A lion! And not a decorative piece that gets ignored and sidelined. Aemond shows no interest in you and you want to know why. The question of what you did wrong haunts you. In your home you were always surrounded by friends, the lords who visited your family praised your kindness and your beauty. You enjoy reading and you are sure that you are a pleasant conversation partner. However, your future husband seems to prefer to ignore you.

You feel lonely. As lonely as you've never been in your life.

No! Your life won't be like that! You refuse to accept this. If Aemond wants to ignore you, he has to give you a good reason for it.

You straighten your back and smooth down your skirts. With quick steps you reach the door and leave your chambers.

"My lady, where do you intent to go?" the guard at your door asks.

"I'm visiting my betrothed." you answer without stopping. The guard follows right behind you.

"You have been instructed not to leave your chambers alone."

"I am not alone. You are with me."

"But my lady..."

"Enough." you just interrupt him. You definitely won't let him change your mind. You will talk to Aemond! But after a few steps you stop. You don't know where the prince's chambers are. You turn slightly to face the guard.

"Where are the prince's chambers?" you ask.

"I must ask you to return to your chambers."

You grimace. "You swore to serve House Targaryen Correct?"

"Yes my lady."

"In a fortnight I will be a Princess of House Targaryen. So you also swore to serve me."

"But my lady.."

"Please."

The guard shifts from one foot to the other and shakes his head slightly. "I have instructions..."

"Fine. Don't help me, I'll just find the way on my own. I hope you're willing to follow me through the Red Keep all night." You turn around sharply to continue walking.

"The other way. Here." you hear after a few steps behind you. You turn around again and look in the direction the guard points .

You give him a smile. "Thank you very much."

You follow his directions and a short time later you find yourself in front of the prince's chambers. You take a deep breath and then knock firmly on the door. It takes a moment and you are invited in. As you attempt to open the door, your guard takes a few steps forward to follow you. "I want to talk to him alone."

"My lady it is inappropriate, you need a chaperone."

"Do you doubt your prince's honor?"

"Of course not!"

"So."

"But my Lady..."

You sigh. "I know I'm not making your job easy today, but I promise to do better. Just not today. I just want one private conversation with the prince. Please."

Now it's his turn to sigh. "I'll wait outside the door. Right infront the door."

"Of course. Thank you." You open the door and enter the prince's chambers. Aemond is sitting on one of the sofas, there is a cup of wine on the table next to him and there is an old book on his lap whose title you can't see. When he sees you he stands up surprised.

"My Lady." he says confused. You close the door behind you and curtsy slightly. You hope he doesn't insist that you curtsy every time you see him after your wedding, but that's not the topic of tonight. Tonight you want an answer.

“Is something troubeling you?” He sounds cold and not really interested, but you push aside the nagging feeling of insecurity. Maybe that was a bad idea after all? But you're here now. Now there is no turning back.

"Yes, something is bothering me." you answer. You are a lion of Casterly Rock. Hear Me Roar! these are your words. And you will show this dragon that you cannot be ignored. Aemond looks at you with a cold expression.

"How can I help you?" he asks annoyed. He's making it clear to you that he doesn't want you here. But you just ignore that. He ignores you, so you can ignore his wishes. You take a deep breath and straight yourself up. You make yourself taller than you are and scrape up all your self-confidence together.

"You do not like me." you say. Aemond's expression changes just for a second, then he wears his cold mask again. You hold his gaze.

"I do not know you." he then says. The bored tone makes you angry.

"And that's your fault." you throw at him. The prince rolls his eye.

"Did you come here to insulte me?"

You bite your lip. "No." you say quietly. "I want to know why you don't like me. I want to know what I did wrong."

Aemond's gaze goes over you. Then he turns to the side, reaches for his wine cup and drinks it. Then he takes the jug and refills his cup and fills a second one.

"Sit with me please." he says, pointing to the seat next to him. You take the steps to the couch and sit down. The pillows are soft, but you still sit straight and ignore the cup of wine in front of you. You suppress the urge to shift back and forth.

"So?" you press.

"You have done nothing wrong."

"Then why have you been ignoring me since I got here?"

"If you wouldn't interrupt me." he says in a strained voice.

You bite your lip again. "I'm sorry."

"Like I said, you didn't do anything wrong. I thought you'd prefer to have time for yourself."

"I had enough time for myself. I'm all alone here. And I would like to know my betrothed before I have to marry him. But you don't even give me the chance to get to know you. You disappear all day long. I don't know anything about you. The only information I get are the gossip from the servants." You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you quickly blink them away. Aemond's jaw tenses with your words. But you're not quite finished yet. "I don't understand why. We used to write letters to each other and then you stopped replying. And since I've been here you have continued to ignore me. So give me a good reason!"

"I have give you my reasons." he says but doesn´t meet your eyes.

"No. That wasn't a good reason." you insist. That can not be it. Because he thought you needed time for yourself? Nonsense! There has to be another reason. Your thoughts are racing and before you can stop yourself you start talking again.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Not a pleasant conversation partner? Not worthy of your attention? What is it?"

"No of course not."

"Don't you think I'm pretty?"

"Oh please, you're beautiful." he says, sounding a little annoyed.

"So what's your problem?"

"There's no problem. It's just.." he interrupts himself and then takes a deep breath. "You must be very disappointed with this engagement." "With your behavior. Yes, I tried to explain this to you."

"No. Not with that. With the engagement to me. With a disabled prince."

You stare at him, stunned, for a few moments. "What?"

"Don't play dumb. You're beautiful, you probably had hundreds of requests for your hand in marriage."

"The two of us have been engaged since we were children. That's well known."

"Won't change the fact that you have a lot of admirers. Am I wrong?"

You furrow your eyebrows. Yes, of course, many men have given you compliments and little gifts and begged for your attention, but that's normal. You come from a rich, powerful family. You were never really interested in any of that. Why should you? You was already engaged. You had your dream prince. Until he stopped being a dream prince. Before you can answer Aemond talks again.

"I can imagine how embarrassing it is for you to have to marry a disabled prince."

"A disabled prince?"

"Aemond one eye. I know what people call me."

"And why do you think I care?"

He laughs joylessly. "Of course you care."

Anger rises within you again. "You judge me? Without knowing me? How dare you?"

You jump to your feet. Aemond winces. He probably didn't expect this reaction. You start pacing back and forth in front of him. "You think I'm unhappy with our engagement because you're missing an eye?You disappoint me."

"Everyone thinks that. You must be devastated. All your admirers and you are stuck with me."

"I´m not stuck with you. I was happy to be engaged to you. Until you turned out to be a complete idiot." you stop infront of him and glare at him.

"Remember who you talk to."

"I'm talking to the man I'm going to marry. Who obviously already made up his mind. Without knowing me. That's cruel."

Aemond is silent for a moment. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then tell me. Tell me anything, no matter what. But we can't do it like this. We can't live like this. We can't ignore each other our whole lives. Or is that what you want?" you ask, realizing you sound desperate.

"No of course not." his voice is no longer annoyed, he sounds more tired. You get on your knees in front of him to be at the same eye level again. You hesitate for a moment but then place your hands on his knees. His eyes examine you carefully, but you don't avoid his gaze.

"So where did that sweet boy I met back then go?"

"That sweet boy you were talking about lost his eye and no one cared." his jaw tenses again.

"I wrote you letters. I asked you how you were doing. How you felt. You didn't answer."

"I didn't read it. I thought you were just writing it out of obligation."

"You could have ask me." you say.

"I guess I underestimated you."

"Yes, perhaps."

"I shouldn't have assumed something about you."

"No you shouldn´t." you agree with him.

Aemond takes your hand. "I shouldn't have ignored you. I should have gotten to know you."

"You can do better now."

"I will." he says. "Promise."

You smilie at him. The conversation went better than you could ever imagined.

"And I will start right away." he then says. You look at him confused. Aemond takes a deep breath and lets go of your hand. Slowly his hands go to the back of his head and undoes the buckle of his eye patch. The leather slides carefully from his eye. The blue sapphire sparkles at you. The scar is always only half covered by the eye patch, but now without it, the scar is even more prominent.

You carefully raise your hand, but before you touch him you stop. "May I?" you whisper. He nods. You touch his cheek tenderly and caress it. "You're beautiful." You say. You see the slight blush on his cheek. A smile dances around his lips.

"Thank you." he places his hand over yours and carefully removes it from his cheek. He kisses your knuckles.

"I just say the truth." Now it's a real smile at Aemonds face.

You straighten up and come back to your feet again. You take a deep breath to bring yourself back into the here and now.

"It's late. I should go back to my chambers."

"Yes. Would you like me to accompany you?"

"That won't be necessary. My guard is right outside the door." you nod towards the door with a smile. Aemond raises an eyebrow, but you don't explain further.

"What do you think about accompanying me to Vhagar tomorrow?"

"To your dragon?"

"Yes."

Nervousness and excitement rise within you. "I would like that very much." you answer and the smile dances around his lips again.

Aemond leaves the eye patch on the table as he walks you to the door. He opens it and your guard half stumbles into the room. He must have leaned against the door.

"My prince." he says and bows. You suppress a laugh. He really was right outside the door.

"I trust you to get my betrothed back to her chambers safely ."

"Of course my prince." the guard stutters.

"Sleep well my lady." Aemond now turns to you. He kisses your hand and this time the blush rises in your cheeks.

"Sleep well my Prince." You say.

You turn away and make your way back to your chambers. Your guard right behind you and you can even find the way without his help. You are hopeful about your marriage. Yes, a conversation doesn't solve all the problems, but it was a good start. It's not perfect yet but it's better. And maybe he and you can manage to have a peaceful marriage and maybe be happy with eachother.

Our Little Jailbird - Roger Taylor x Reader

Not Requested

I’ve had this idea for a while, wasn’t exactly how i originally pictured it, but it’s been so long since i’ve posted anything, i wanted to get something out for you guys. Hope you enjoy! Please leave a like/comment/reblog and also leave some requests, i could always use new ideas

Word Count : 1291

Pairing : Roger x Reader

-

The shrill ringing of the telephone danced around the studio walls, earning annoyed groans from the four men in the room, eager to finish their new album and put it behind them. The ringing continued until Miami rolled his eyes at his band, taking the phone off of the hook and answering it. His eyes widened instantly and he gave a small chuckle, bringing the phone down before looking at the band members in front of him, the blond in particular.

“Roger, for you.”

Roger flipped his drumsticks to the side, standing to get to the phone. “Who is it?”

Miami only chuckled as he passed the receiver.

Roger leaned against the wall as he put the phone to his ear. “This is Roger Taylor.”

A man’s voice answered. “Hello, Roger, do you know a Miss (YN) (YLN)?”

“I do.” He gave a small laugh. “She’s my fiancé. Is she alright?”

The man sighed. “Yeah, she’s fine but she does need you to pick her up if you would. She’s not exactly capable of getting home herself.”

“Where is she? What happened?” Roger stood a little straighter, the tone of his voice alerting his bandmates who now looked on with curiosity. “You said she was fine.”

“She is fine, just got a little drunk and got herself arrested and well, you were the only name she’d give up when we asked if anyone would be able to bail her out. You’ll be able to bail her out then?”

Roger closed his eyes before nodding, gripping the phone a little tighter as he smirked, picturing you in a jail cell. “I’ll be there in ten.” He then hung up the phone, putting his hands on his hips as he glanced to the other men in the room. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” Brian asked, plucking at random strings on his guitar. “We’ve got an album to finish.”

Roger nodded as he fiddled with his pockets, hunting down his keys, heading for the door. “I know we do, but I’ve currently got a fiancé in jail, so I have a special priority at the moment, like I said. I’ll be back.” With that he walked out of the studio and headed towards the jail, he couldn’t help but laugh as he drove towards you.

-

Your head rested against the cool steel bars, it felt nice against your heated skin, your flushed cheeks and your pounding headache. Soft groans left your mouth with every small movement you made. Thoughts of the night before came crashing against your skull, making your hangover a thousand times worse than what it already was.

The night was a blur, well parts of it were. The other parts well, you didn’t remember those parts. Now you knew how Roger felt when he had nights like the one you’d just had. You had to give the man credit, he could carry on as if the night had never happened still, you weren’t to that point yet and never would you again if you could help it.

Your reflecting came to an end as you heard footsteps approaching and a melodic laugh filled your ears.

“My darling, look at you.” Roger’s voice filled the room along with his laughter. Oh he was not going to let you forget this. “One night out with friends and this is what happens. I told you I’d pick you up love, I was only a call away.”

Slowly you let your eyes crack open, the bright lights in the room sent your head into a frenzy and you snapped them shut again. “Out.” Your voice was beyond hoarse, but you didn’t care, you were ready to go. “I want out! Roger! Get me,” a loud and slightly painful hiccup left your body, “Get me out, Rog, then tease later. Please!”

Another chuckle and his hand was on yours. “I do love to hear you beg darling, music to my ears.”

“Rog…” you began but were cut off by the door you were leaning so carefully against, moved out of the way and you stumbled into Roger’s awaiting arms. His chest felt like home, you’d definitely rather be pressed against his chest instead of the bars any day. He carefully wrapped his arms around you, helping you stand on your own feet. “Thanks.” You grumbled.

“Thank you, officer.” He laughed out as he lead you out of the station. You were only able to open your eyes a handful of times as he lead you to the car. He helped you get inside and helped buckle you in before getting in on the other side. He didn’t start the car though, he only turned in his seat to look at you. “What happened last night, love?” In all honesty, Roger did try to be sincere with his question but you were just a sight that he couldn’t help but let out a few laughs at. “You look a right mess.”

“I am a mess.” You covered your face with your hands. “Too many drinks.”

“I can tell. How did you end up in a jail cell?”

A shrug of your shoulders was the only answer you wanted to give him. But Roger was Roger, he wasn’t done until he got a solid answer out of you.

“Love?”

It was no use, he’d find out somehow you were sure of it. “I may or may not have had a few margaritas. I may or may not have been dancing like an idiot on the dancefloor.” Roger’s eyes lit up with amusement with each word you spoke. “And finally, I may or may not have thrown my drink at the bartender when he told me I’d had enough to drink. Didn’t know that was worthy of a call to the police, but apparently it was.” You turned your head to spare Roger a glance and turned back just as quickly.

The grin on Roger’s face was the biggest grin you’d ever seen on his face. It may have held a little pride as well, he’d never admit it to you, but seeing you get put in jail for being drunk, it may have been the funniest thing he’d ever witnessed in his life.

“This isn’t funny Roger!”

“Love,” he breathed, turning back to start up the car, “this is hilarious. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Promise?”

He held out his pinky and latched it with yours. “Promise.”

-

Technically, only Roger made that promise. Miami on the other hand, did not make that promise. When Roger left the studio, he went into a laughing tirade about your drunken journey. All of the guys were laughing, holding their stomachs and everything. Sweet little you, in jail, it was something they thought they’d never hear in their lives. It brought amusement to a very stressful period in their life.

-

Roger pulled up to the studio and you groaned. “I just want to go home, Roger, I spent the night in jail. I need a shower and a proper bed, please just take me home.”

“I’ll only be a minute love.” He went to get out of the car but was stopped by your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re seriously not about to leave me alone, are you?”

“Course not.” He removed your hand before going to your side of the car and opening the door, holding his hand back out to you.

“Seriously?”

He smirked. “Only for a minute love, they’ll understand.”

Groaning, you took his hand and followed him in, quickly wishing you’d had just stayed in the car.

Freddie clapped his hands as soon as you walked inside, a grin that could’ve outmatched Roger’s adorned his face. “Welcome home our little Jailbird.”

No Questions Asked

Author’s Note: MASSIVE thank you to @violentcosmicsymphony and @briefgalaxycat for beta reading this and being such supportive cheerleaders!

Masterlist

Part one of the Meet Me at Sunrise series

Next Chapter: Return to Me

Words: 725

Warnings: None? Some yearning? Pure fluff and a love letter to Washington, DC

Summary: Even FBI agents need someone to fuss over them. (Marcus Pike x FBI Agent!Reader)

“Sunrise or sunset?”

“Hmm” Marcus rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. “Sunrise. City or country?”

The two of you had been at this for a few hours. Stuck in a car overnight on a stake out, what had started as quizzing each other on their past devolved into a quick-fire game of ‘This or That?’ You had gotten to know Marcus fairly well since he came to the unit six months ago, broken-hearted but hard at work. You quickly came to admire him. Smart, charismatic, funny… and very handsome you had to admit.

Keep reading

10 Things I Hate About You (Chapter One) - (Young)Sirius Black Imagine

A/N: hello dearies! alright! so here it is! I’m not even sure how this turned out or how it’s going to continue so I’ll really need some feedback! haha hope I did a good job! so, here it is! thank you all of you who voted! sorry about the ones that your favorite didn’t make it :( but like I said they could still be used for another story! so… here we go! :D THANK YOU SO MUCH @theboyswithasparebitofparchment​ for the amazing artwork!!!!!!!!!

Request - Could you maybe do a young Sirius Black one shot thing? Where y/n and Sirius are both in the same year in Gryffindor, but are well known for being enemies and hating one another? They have similar personalities but always go out of their way to make the others lives as difficult as possible, and are often found arguing or causing some kind of scene and annoying each other? Somehow eventually end up finding out they like each other?

- Hi! Can I have a Sirius imagine where the reader is James’ twin sis. She and Sirius have a hate-hate relationship. One day he pranks her and she really feels humiliated. Sirius tries to apologize but they start fighting and he confesses his feelings.

Warnings: some adult themes, I guess. mentions of sex… nothing too explicit but, yeah…

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter

Your name: submit What is this?

**********************************************

10 Things I Hate About You

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair

“Please!”

“No.”

“But James!”

“No!”

“I’m your sister!”

“And I called Moony as my partner! There will be no switching! You know I will fail Potions if he’s not my partner!”

“But I don’t want to be partners with Sirius!”

“Why not? Padfoot’s not that bad at Potions” James told his sister as they walked to their class.

“Is not that he’s bad or not it’s that he’s… well, Sirius!”

“Well, if you would’ve let me partner with my Lily flower, you could’ve partnered with Moony and none of this would’ve happened in the first place” James complained.

“First of all, don’t call her Lily flower, she hates that” (Y/N) stated. “Second, it is not my fault that Lily wanted to partner with Snape!”

“Well, then it is not my fault that Moony wanted to partner with me!”

“He didn’t want to partner with you! You forced him!”

“I didn’t do such a thing!”

“Guys, I’m standing right here!” Remus complained talking for the first time. Everyone knew better by now than to interfere in a discussion between the Potter twins.

“Remus, please be my partner” (Y/N) begged with puppy eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), Prongs asked me first” he said apologetically. “Besides, Padfoot it’s actually quite good at Potions he just doesn’t like to admit it” he told her.

When the three of them reached the classroom, they spotted Sirius in his and (Y/N)’s desk locking lips with his latest well, let’s call it ‘date’ who was sitting on the desk while practically wrapping her legs around Sirius. (Y/N) turned to look back at her brother and Remus pleadingly one last time but they both only smiled at her shaking their heads and walked to the table behind Sirius. She sighed frustrated and made her way over to the couple.

“Ahem” she cleared her throat making the couple jump apart. Marlene’s face flushed a little but Sirius only seemed annoyed.

“May we help you, Potter?”

Keep reading

Fic Rec List

So, since I’ve achieved another of my follower goals, I thought about doing a recommendation list of all of my favorite fanfiction from this website (so far)! These are the ones I reblogged and commented on it, and truly recommend! Some of them them I really have to catch up, but I love them anyway! I hope you like them too!! I’m definitely missing someone, because I always forget things, lmao, so if your work is not here is probably because I forgot!! The characters are in alphabetical order:

Boba Fett

Staple Your Tongue by @bobafvtt

Say it, Spit it Out by @bobafvtt

Diego Hargreeves

I Need a Favour series by @areyouthorrealrightnow

Diego and his baby daughter by @the-novel-on-the-left

Din Djarin

As You Wish series by @themandjalorian

Both Hunter and Prey series by @themandjalorian

Cold Showers by @cptnbvcks

Deliver Me by @damerondjarin

Healer series by @bestintheparsec (i terribly have to catch up, but it’s a great series 🥺) 

The Lovely Moons series by @vercopaanir (i still have to catch up on that one, sorry 😥)

Rough day series by @no-droids

Ezra (Prospect)

Moonlight by @adikaofmandalore

Next Rotation by @hopelikethesun

Orchid by @adikaofmandalore

Trap by @rzrcrst

Frankie Morales

Addicted to You by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

Dawn by @rzrcrst

Pragma series by @softpedropascal (another one that I have to catch up, but it’s so soft and sweet!!)

Querencia series by @spookyold-saintjm

Javier Peña

A Good Man series by @forever-rogue

Curriculum Vitae series by @tiffdawg

Deal series by @longitud-de-onda

Dial Tone by @cptnbvcks

Look How Long This Love Can Hold Its Breath series by @themandjalorian

Partial to the Cavatina series by @acomplicatedprofession

The Same Coin series by @bestintheparsec ​

Marcus Pike

And Then I’d Kiss You, And Then I’d (Still) Kiss You by @agentpike

If You Ever wanna be in Love series by @agentpike

Secret Kisses by @catfishingmorales

Undercover by @secretpajamas

Maxwell Lord

A Gilded Lie series by @maxlordd

Max Phillips

Bury me face down by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

With Cherries on Top series by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

Oberyn Martell

In Name Only series by @forever-rogue

Of Princes and Berries series by @forever-rogue

Pero Tovar

Morning, Necklace and this Art Drabble by @di-kut (all set in the same universe)

Querida by @yespolkadotkitty

The Art She Loved Masterlist

Series Rating: Mature

Chapter One

Chapter Two 

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten 

Chapter Eleven