intentions | aerion targaryen
cw. princess! reader, prince! aerion, separate kingdoms, no targcest or familial relations involved, cheating (reader cheats on her betrothed), unprotected sex, rough sex, power play, semi-public sex, creampie.
synopsis. aerion admires you. respects you as a leader, an influence on your people, and as a woman. he never thought he'd meet his match, and he wishes to explore you further.
the long council table was meant to impress.
carved black oak, polished so beautifully that candlelight shimmered across its surface. banners hang from the high stone walls, each one bearing the sigils of the great houses gathered there. politics.
aerion hated politics.
although, that wasn't entirely true. aerion simply loathed most people involved in them. the stammering lords, nobles who bowed too low and replied in haste to gain his approval even if nothing but nonsense left their mouths, courtiers who pretended their trembling was respect instead of fear.
but you were different. aerion did not loathe you at all.
across the table, you sat straight-backed in your chair, a crown of silver filigree resting lightly against your hair. it was your turn to speak, your voice coming out calm and measured as you address the matter of trade tariffs between your kingdom and the crown of house targaryen.
aerion leans back slightly, one arm slung across the carved armrest of his chair, with his boots stretched forward beneath the table. he looks bored, but that is only because he is a master at keeping a neutral expression at all times. in truth, he is staring right at you, imagining doing the most vile of acts to you right here in this room.
he finds you absolutely captivating. you speak like someone who had been born for this; sharp, composed, impossible to interrupt. a lord halfway down the table attempts to interject and you cut him off with nothing more than a polite turn of your head and a single raised brow.
you're so beautiful and charming that it is impossible to tell that you are more similar to aerion than anyone else in this room, ruthless, blood thirsty, and hungry for power. it excites him, how you meet his gaze like an equal.
a prince and a princess. both still beneath the crown but above nearly everyone else at the table. which means that most of these negotiations eventually came down to the two of you speaking while the others hovered around the edges like nervous attendants.
you continue your speech, now discussing shipping routes around the table and gesturing to the map spread out in front of you. he hears none of it, eyes trailing down your figure and stopping at your fingers brushing the parchment as you traced the coastline.
he imagines grabbing your soft hand and pulling you across the table, right onto his lap. or, perhaps bending you over in front of everyone and finally having a taste of you.
Gods.
aerion shifts slightly in his chair.
as you continue speaking, unaware (or perhaps pretending to be) of his eyes burning into you, aerion wonders if you had any idea what you did to him. how badly he wanted to ruin that calm composure of yours.
he imagines leaning close enough that the nobles around the table could no longer hear the filth he wished to whisper in your ear. imagines the slight hitch in your breath when his hand slid-
“aerion.”
your voice cuts cleanly through his thoughts, and he lifts his head and blinks up at you languidly. the room has gone quiet, every lord at the table now staring at him.
“…your thoughts?” you prompt with a little tip of your head, watching him fold his hands together and lean forward slightly. inside, he was still picturing you with your back against the council table while those same lords politely try to pretend they noticed nothing.
“your proposal,” he says smoothly, “is… quite impressive.” a few nobles exchanged surprised glances at his words, for aerion never gave compliments. but his gaze doesn't wave from you. you don't look surprised. if anything, your mouth curved faintly, as though you had expected exactly that answer. and that small smile did something very dangerous to him.
but aerion could not have you. because you were betrothed.
the thought hit him every single time he imagined putting his hands on you. you were to see some foreign prince who your family had formed a carefully arranged alliance with. this man had never sat across a table from you and watched you dismantle an argument piece by piece. he doesn’t know of your sharp tongue or wit like aerion does. he doubts the sod could even handle you.
aerion’s jaw clenches and he curls his fingers slightly against the wood of the table. the idea of another man touching you…
he exhales a slow breath through his nose. across from him, you continue speaking with the other nobles, as you’d accepted aerion’s praise and moved forward right after. he scoffs at your nonchalance. the things he would do to you would make half the court faint.
meanwhile, you've just finished speaking and lean back slightly in your chair, allowing the discussion to continue around the table. you look over at aerion, who makes no move to avert his gaze from you. he simply watches you through lowered lashes, thinking about how easily he could close the distance between you.
and how badly he wanted to see what the princess looked like when she finally lost control.
eventually, you close the council meeting, bringing attention to the late hour and suggesting to reconvene tomorrow. the council chamber slowly empties in a shuffle of robes, clinking goblets, and murmured arguments that would no doubt continue long after the doors closed.
you're already halfway down the corridor when you heard aerion's unmistakable steps behind you, heavy and confident. you speak without turning around.
"i was wondering," you say lightly, still walking, but slowing your pace for him slightly. "how long it would take the prince to abandon the rest of his court."
a low voice answers behind you. "i did not abandon them, princess. i am simply more interested in you."
you finally glance over your shoulder as aerion falls into step beside you. his pale hair gleams in the torchlight of the corridor, silver - almost white against the dark stone walls. his expression is the same arrogant calm he had worn at the table, but his eyes, those sharp violet eyes, are still fixed on you in a way that felt almost leering. but the crown prince would never leer, especially not at another royal. "i escaped," he jokes, looking down at you.
you snort softly and continue walking.
"that poor merchant lord from the western ports will be heartbroken," you tut. "he seemed convinced you cared deeply about his grain tariffs."
aerion scoffs, "if i had to hear one more word about grain tariffs, i would have set the entire port on fire and spared myself the discussion."
you laugh at his audacity, feeling quite amused by the fact he seems to trust you enough to share his true feelings with you. part of you wonders why he is so comfortable with you, enough to tell jokes and walk so close to you that your arms keep brushing, but you figure it is best to not make any assumptions. aerion is just confusing.
meanwhile, he's trying to contain himself because your laugh had ignited something disgustingly warm and pleasant inside him. his stomach seemed to flip upside down when you did it. he watches you as you both walk down the long castle hallway. servants bow as you pass, but neither of you slow for them.
you wave one away absentmindedly when they try to ask something about dinner arrangements. aerion notices. there it was again, your unwillingness to pretend to give a damn about something if it does not interest you. you are so blatantly honest that aerion cannot help but trust you. you do not lie or sugarcoat.
"you are terrible to your staff," he says casually.
you glance sideways at him. "i am not. they just do not recognize when i am not in the mood to talk with them. some of them have been with me years and still do not know my daily routines. it is their fault i get short with them. and they are still paid handsomely. i do not feel sorry at all."
there, more honesty. aerion grins. that is exactly the kind of answer he would have given. "no?" he's thoroughly amused, and continues speaking, wanting to hear more of your thoughts. "you dismissed lord harren rather brutally today. i thought he might cry."
"he was wrong," you reply simply.
"and that justified humiliating him in front of the council?"
you look at him incredulously, figuring the answer would be obvious. "yes."
with a grin, aerion pictures the moment from the meeting - how you'd calmly dismantled the man's argument piece by piece while he sputtered and tried to recover. you hadn't even raised your voice, just watched him crumble. aerion had admired it immensely.
you round a corner, leading him deeper into the quiet wing of the castle where guest chambers were kept for visiting nobility. "your proposal about the eastern shipping lanes," aerion says suddenly. "you were holding something back."
"you believe so, prince aerion?" you ask, lips curving slightly. "that i was leaving points out of the discussion?"
aerion felt a thrill rush through his body. he loves this part, the unspoken game between the two of you where you circle each other without ever quite touching. you provoke each other to see who will yield first to temptation.
you stop walking for a moment beside a tall window where moonlight spilled across the stone floor. “the tariffs were bait,” you admit, making no move to back away or avoid being cornered when aerion walks a little closer, enclosing you in the little private alcove under the high window.
“i assumed.”
“the real issue is naval positioning,” you continue. “if your father agrees to the arrangement, your fleets will control the southern trade routes within a year.”
aerion’s eyes flicker with interest. “and you’re giving us that advantage why?”
“because your fleets already control them in practice. i'm simply giving you the direction to dominate.”
the two of you stared at each other for a moment. it wasn’t the first time Aerion had felt it, that strange sense that when he spoke to you, he wasn’t speaking to a rival court. he was speaking to someone who thought the same way he did. calculating. completely unimpressed by the opinions of lesser men and women.
“you are wasted here,” aerion shakes his head. "you should be ruling a kingdom. plundering others." your betrothal surfaced in his mind again briefly, turning his expression sour. that distant crown waiting for you where you will have to sit back and shut up the rest of your life, letting that man do all the talking and plundering for you, when aerion, if he had your hand, would have you rule hand in hand as equals.
"shall we move along to your chambers, prince aerion?"
he shakes his head and backs you in further so you're forced to sit back on the ledge, and he keeps you in with strong arms, putting his face close to yours. you are strong and have resisted many men's attempts at seducing you, but aerion is... different. extremely so. his gaze fixed on yours, his clean, woodsy scent making you woozy. "i do not want to go to bed, princess." he murmurs.
the torchlight from the corridor flickers across the sharp angles of his face. his expression had shifted. though still arrogant and amused, there's a certain predatory look on his face that you hadn't noticed before. "i think you're dismissing me rather quickly."
your eyes flit around his face quickly, your breath held in your lungs as you feel the gap between the two of you get smaller and smaller. he's making you nervous. so nervous that your body is quivering and restless, and your face, neck and ears are burning heat. "i... i showed you the route to your chamber. that was the purpose of the walk."
"was it?" his tone is light and curious as though he already knew the answer. he just wants to see if you will be honest and agree with him or lie and say you're still thinking about that pathetic man you're set to marry. he knows you are not naive, though. you must be aware of the tension humming in the air between you. perhaps you are just too... thoughtful of that man's feelings to indulge in it though.
“one might think,” he speaks slowly, “that after such a riveting council meeting, two like-minded rulers might wish to… continue their discussion.”
“continue our discussion,” you repeat.
“of course.” he says smoothly, leaning a little closer and forcing your body back into the nook, your tits pushed against his chest and your crown now askew in your hair. his breathing has gotten heavier and more erratic, but he still hasn't put his hands on you, not really. but he can tell you're as caught up in this as he is.
“isn't this rather unbecoming of a prince and princess, aerion?” you ask, gaze dropping to his wet pink lips. he licks them unconsciously and leans down further, nearly brushing his mouth against yours. but he's waiting for an explicit sign that you want this as much as he does. that you do not care for your husband to be. that you want aerion to defile you in the halls of your castle where anyone could walk by at any moment.
you pant into his mouth, your lips brushing against his without pressure involved. just getting a taste of what could be.
“my betrothed,” you add breathily, “would not be pleased to hear i've been in such close proximity to you.”
"your betrothed is not here." he says immediately, hand snaking behind your head and grabbing at your hair almost brutishly, tipping your head up so your mouths are angled perfectly against each other, but you're still not actually kissing.
you gasp and fist your hands in the back of his robes to steady yourself, eyes fluttering shut. aerion's scent fills up every inch of space in your senses again, and you try to deepen the almost-kiss, just for him to back away slightly and tut at you mockingly. "oh princess." he croons. "weren't you taught to say please?"
for a moment, you can't seem to steady yourself as he runs his hands along your body, mouth moving lethargically against yours. the confidence you wield so easily in court feels… distant here. irrelevant. "i-" you start, your voice catching in your throat embarrassingly. aerion exhales, letting out an airy groan past your lips. "go on..." he prompts. he has all the time in the world to pull this from you. "tell me what you want."
you let out a shaky inhale as your resolve, so unshakable before, slips away. your voice is hardly audible when you admit it; “…you.”
aerion stills momentarily, only long enough for the answer to settle, before he grins slowly. “there it is,” he murmurs.
his hand tightens slightly at the back of your head to hold you there as he finally closes the distance, sealing his mouth fully against yours and pushing you back with his weight as he dominates the kiss. he swallows your sounds with his tongue, using the first opportunity he can to slip it into your mouth and lave it over yours.
you paw at him in return, fingers fisting in the fabric of his robes, pulling him closer until there's no space left between the two of you at all. he groans at your insistence and lowers his hands to your front, undoing the laces lining the top of your gown rapidly.
without removing his mouth from yours, he pushes his hands against your newly bare skin, hands finding the soft mounds of your breasts and moaning at how round and pert they feel in his cool palms. how quickly your nipples bud and swell under his touch, sensitive to the pads of his thumbs and his pinching fingers. you buck into his touch, not unhappy with his emboldened behavior.
it's overwhelming in the best way. his tongue swirling around yours, his lips pushed and molded perfectly against the seam of your mouth, and his big, cool hands on your warm chest has your thoughts slipping, your composure unraveling piece by piece as the tension that’s been building finally has somewhere to go.
aerion seems so impatient in the way he handles you. letting his lips slip off yours with saliva strings webbing between both your swollen mouths, he slowly moves his kisses down to your jaw. his teeth bite into your skin, cutting into the soft flesh before he allows you the soothing press of his tongue. hes merciful enough to soothe the marks hes been leaving on you.
your hands fist in his clothes as he mouths and fondles your body. at the moment, you feel no shame about being soiled before marriage. you're not even promised to aerion. and yet the betrayal your betrothed would feel if he found you and the crown prince touching and mouthing at each other like rabid animals does not make you hesitate.
aerion pushes his body between your legs, letting you feel the hard length of his cock through his clothes. one hand descends to lift your hips so he can press his cock against you right through your wet underwear. you gasp and moan at all the sensations at once. his cock, tongue, and hands on you. "more," you say pleadingly, pushing him up against you and reaching down to palm at his long, thick cock. it's bigger than you anticipated. heavy in your palm as he pushes his hips instinctively into your hand.
"you learn quick, princess." he praises, groaning at your fist wrapping around his clothed cock. “you want it? show me how much.”
obediently, you lean back and hike your dress up, pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. you even go so far as to spread yourself with two fingers, letting him see the pearlescent strings of arousal clinging to your pussy lips.
his pupils dilate the moment he sees how wet and ready for him you are, slick oozing out of you in thick rivulets. the control he'd initially had in the council room snaps completely, and he removes his breeches and bottoms and fists his hard, pale cock, lining it up with your hole.
you gasp as he rubs his red, swollen tip along your folds, the friction coaxing pitiful whines past your lips as your juices and his thick pre-cum smear together, making a mess of you.
the head of his cock parts your folds agonizingly slow as he starts to slip inside you, his hand letting go of the base of his cock to let your pussy do the work in gripping him and sucking him in deeper. "so tight," he grunts, leaning forward to push more of himself inside you. "i'd expect nothing less from you, princess. look at how well you take me."
his cock stretches you out further and further, the sensation of being full taking over the closer he gets to bottoming out. you can't take your eyes off his as his cock sinks in, and finally, with one slick pop, his balls hit the curve of your ass while he rests snugly inside you.
taking a minute to let your soft walls adjust to his size, he rests inside you, focused on the way his balls twitch against your ass and how his cock has fully disappeared into your hole, milking him with a vise grip. he groans, hands sliding down your soft, supple body worshippingly.
then, unable to withold his need to fuck you proper, he draws back and slams back into you, his cock dragging forwards into your puffy walls and mixing in all your slick. your lips draw together in a pout as you whimper out his name, peering down at where his cock is stuffing your pussy and thrusting in and out. you look down and spread your pussy lips, your eyes drawn to the motion of your walls clinging to his cock and sucking him back in with every rut of his thick cock.
you're dizzy with pleasure, and all aerion does is chuckle at the fucked out expression on your sweaty, flushed face. "hungry little pussy," he comments mockingly, smirking at the squelching noises your hole makes. "can barely hear your noises over hers."
though he really would like to play calm and collected with you, it's difficult for him to maintain subtlety with how soft and warm you are around his pulsing shaft. you suck him back in and milk his cock when he tries to draw back, and it makes it so hard for him to keep pounding your cunt silly when all you want to do is keep him stuffing you full.
that, the way you spread your hole for him to fuck proper, and the borderline vulgar expression on your face, how you keep looking up to gauge how he feels as if seeking his approval, it all has him going stupid inside of you. he grabs you by the hips and drags you up on his cock so you're no longer seated, but pressed flat up against the wall with your legs on his shoulders so he can fuck you deeper.
he bounces you on his cock like a toy, groping the fat of your thighs and ass while hissing at how you tighten down around him and dig your nails into his shoulders. with the new position, it doesn't take long for aerion to reach that one weak spot you've never known about until now. the swollen head of his cock prods against it again and again while his balls squish against your ass.
"aerion!" you cry out, your moans increasing in pitch and volume until he rapidly shushes you.
"fuck, keep the noise down." he curses, holding you against him and deepening his thrusts into you. you feel him reach impossibly deeper with every drive of your hips, and it's hard for you to listen and obey when he keeps fucking your cunt like this. you can feel your orgasm fast approaching with the incessant stimulation to your weak spot and the fabric of his robes rubbing against your puffy clit. "else we'll get caught and everyone'll know what the sweet princess gets up to at night."
your mouth opens in a dramatic, gasped moan at his threat, and he quickly silences you with yet another deep kiss.
he wonders if you kiss your bethrothed like this.
the thought makes him plunge his tongue into your mouth greedily, staking his claim on you while all you can do is run your tongue against his while his cock busies itself with filling your softening walls that hold onto him tight. he feels his load churning in his balls and his stomach twisting up with each lewd run of your tongue on his and his cock pumping your pussy, and he shudders, squeezing you tighter against him when your hands fist in his hair, silently coaxing him to cum.
hungrily, aerion licks your lips upon envisioning himself pumping you full of his cum and sending you back to your chambers full of him, watching his hot load trickle down your little legs as you walk into your bedroom. the last encouragement he needs before he cums is your soft voice against his lips, crooning; "i need it, aerion, f-fill me please."
he groans and hugs you tighter, continuing his deep, resounding thrusts while starting to spill into you, breeding your pussy without another thought. he swirls his hips against yours and grinds into you to fuck his cum as deep as it can go, moaning and splurting out more sticky cream when you arch your back and moan, walls fluttering around him as you also hit your peak and make a mess of his cock. nothing's in your head but him and the pleasure he's giving you. not tarrifs, or your husband to be.