Summary ✧ Rhaena Targaryen mourns the loss of those who have left her. You shine in her memories like gold and silver. This is pure angst <3
♱ Sweet Dreams
Dark! Daeron the Drunken/Reader
Summary ✧ Prince Daeron stumbles back home; to his beloved wife. +18
♱ Worship Your Queen
Dark! Rhaenyra Targaryen/Cousin! Reader
Summary ✧ After your father leaves for Harrenhall, you are left to deal with the aftermath of his wife's frustration. +18
♱ Dragons Keeper
Dark! Aemond Targaryen/Velaryon! Strong? Reader
Summary ✧ After Aegon is burned and put in a coma, Aemond has complete access to you; his niece and sister-in-law. +18
♱ Holy Purpose
Dark! Ormund Hightower/Targaryen! Reader
Summary ✧ After your father dies, you are called back to Kings Landing by your mother. Your husband is not willing to let you fly to war.
♱ Their Pet
Dark! Aegon II Targaryen/Arryn! Reader/Dark! Helaena Targaryen
Summary ✧ Helaena, ever the observant one, watches as Aegon ravages you. +18
Imagines
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON/ASOIAF
♱ Daemon's bastard claiming Balerion
✧ Cannibal Ver.
♱ Being Rhaenyra's Only Daughter & Heir
♱ The Cannibal Being Hatched to Maegor's Only Child
♱ Aemond Being Obsessed with an Older! Reader
♱ Aegon Being Obsessed with Arryn! Wife
♱ Aemond's Creepy Girlfriend
♱ Aemond Forcing Older! Reader to Marry Him
✧ Part Two
♱ Alicent Having a Daughter That Looks Like Her
♱ Dragons Reaction to Your Death
♱ Baelor! Reader Dying
♱ Age-Gap with the Hightower's
♱ Aegon Obsessing Over His Celtigar! Wife
MISC.
♱ Stalker! Michael Gavey
✧ Part Two
Full Stories
♱ Black & Green Bruises
Dark! Team Black/Velaryon! Strong? Reader/Dark! Team Green
Summary ✧ Being the eldest child of Rhaenyra Targaryen, your purpose is to provide peace to the realm once you succeed your mother. Before your mother can even claim her throne, Rhaenyra is usurped by your husband, Aegon. You must choose between your blood and protecting your children.
♱ Doe-Eyed Dragon
Dark! Team Green/ Targtower! Reader/Dark! Team Black
Summary ✧ As the youngest daughter of King Viserys Targaryen I and Queen Alicent Hightower, you are kept locked away where only your mother can see you. That is, until the Dance of the Dragons begins.
Dark! Team Green/ Targtower! Reader/Dark! Team Black
Summary ✧ As the youngest daughter of King Viserys Targaryen I and Queen Alicent Hightower, you are kept locked away where only your mother can see you. That is, until the Dance of the Dragons begins.
Dark! Team Black/Velaryon! Strong? Reader/Dark! Team Green
Summary ✧ Being the eldest child of Rhaenyra Targaryen, your purpose is to provide peace to the realm once you succeed your mother. Before your mother can even claim her throne, Rhaenyra is usurped by your husband, Aegon. You must choose between your blood and protecting your children.
Just rq, I'm gonna be doing some blig maintenance, so I'm going to be revamping my masterlist and layouts 💔 my masterlist and links will be unavailable for a bit, but I will try to get them back up ASAP.
I wanted to change my user to match my other ones on TikTok and Insta, and if I don't do it my brain will torture me :(
Summary ✧ Helaena, ever the observant one, watches as Aegon ravages you.
Helagon 3sum smut for the soul yessir
Helaena liked to watch.
You had learned this very simple fact in the years you'd been her companion. You were girls together, your father sending you to Kings Landing in order to be Princess Helaena's lady-in-waiting whilst your older sister learned the art of politics at home. You shared blood with Helaena's half-sister, you were told, from the late Queen Aemma's side of the family. While you grew beside Helaena Targaryen, you learned many things about her.
She watched people and their behaviors much in the way she observed her beloved insects. Diagrams of exoskeletons and inquiry of the human spirit were much in the same to her. Even now, as a woman grown and a mother of twins (now expecting another babe), Helaena remained as she always was.
Yes.
Helaena loved to watch.
"Fuck." Aegon curses lowly, his knees on either side of your head as he forces his cock down your throat.
Helaena sits comfortably next to you, her fingers running gently through your hair. It was less of an attempt at comfort and more of her own desires, you knew. One of her hands pressed to Aegon's navel, Helaena pushes him back without much effort, her husband pulls back until the tip of his flushed cock is pressed to your lips. Aegon shudders, a bratty whine leaving his lips as you sputter and gasp for air, your own fingers digging into his thighs.
"Your lips are pretty," Helaena says simply, tracing the shape of your lips with her fingertips, the mix of saliva and precum sticking to her skin like honey. Helaena rubs her thighs together slowly, relishing in the throb of her own arousal as she stares at you lovingly. "I want Aegon to make love to you, alright?"
It isn't a question, you know it. Over the years you'd become used to her desires, as twisted as they may be.
"Please," Aegon is pressed against your thigh, now. You can feel the angry heat of his cock as the appendage twitches against your skin, and you shiver. He was of the pathetic sort, you had gathered. Weak for anything soft and comforting. Aegon and Helaena loved these moments, Aegon especially. "Cum inside of her this time." Helaena's voice is distant, your mind goes foggy as she slips a finger inside of your mouth, her finger brushes against your tongue and you whimper around the digit.
Aegon is thick inside of you, and you cry out as he forces his cock inside of you. It isn't the first time, far from it, but you still whimper around your Princesses finger as she practically fucked your mouth with it.
Aegon ruts into you like a dog in heat, his cock pressing into the slick warmth of your cunt with every jut of his hips. He paws at your plushy thighs with one hand, the other grabbing at your belly as his head tilts back. He swore he'd make you a mother, that he'd make you his second wife alongside Helaena once he was King. She'd like that, to have you bent to their twisted will like that all of the time.
Helaena is in a world of her own making as her husband fucks you hard against their shared bed. Her lips are pressed to your neck, and her hips grind against nothing at all as she watches Aegon's cock slide in and out of you. It captivates her, leaving her dripping and soaked in her small clothes. The slight bump of her growing belly presses against your arm, and you can feel the stutter of Aegon's hips, the tense of his balls against your cunt scaring you with the knowledge that something would soon be inside of you.
Deeper, more intimate.
It comes quickly, Aegon moans in a high pitch, his nails digging into your skin painfully as his cock jerks inside of you.
It's hot, unbearably so. You wonder if it's because of his dragon blood, or if you just lacked the experience to compare his fiery load to anything else. Helaena and Aegon had made sure that he'd taken your maidenhead, and they had remained the only ones to touch you in such a way.
Your thighs are soon wrapped around Aegon's hips as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, his nose is pressed to your neck, Helaena is opposite to him, her lips capturing your own in a heated exchange of pure, unadulterated desire. Even as Aegon goes slack against you, you feel too hot. The load inside of you was burning, much like you imagined dragonfire to feel.
Once all is done, Helaena and Aegon embrace you from either side. Aegon, ever in need of affection, nuzzles his head into your bosom, his mouth around your breast as he sucked gently. Helaena has her arms wrapped around your middle, pressing her little belly bump against your own tummy.
Her Grace the Queen would no doubt be wroth, but you had lost any choice in the matter the moment Aegon and Helaena decided they wanted you.
Just a drabble while I work on some requests 🫠 pls lmk your thoughts on this bc I really liked writing it tbh...
Hello.Could you please explain this part? I didn't quite understand.
My train of thought stems from how I personally interpret Aegon's relationship with fatherhood. I remember the interview where Tom acknowledges how Aegon sees his children as the only good part of him, something made of him being innocent and pure.
So if Aegon's darling gives him children, I can see him becoming even more infatuated with her/them!
so people can in fact see that teenage daeron is being abused and manipulated by an older relative into a position he never wanted but have for some reason been unable to extend the same understanding and sympathy to alicent who went through exactly the same thing at his age……right.
♱ You come from a long line of stubborn men, yet many counted you among the lucky young ladies of the Realm because your father had such a soft spot for you that he was quite literally not able to tell you no. You have men and women alike bending to your will by the time you're eight years old, despite not being overly bossy or cocky. You could bat your pretty eyes at your father or mother and they would give you the moon.
Your husband is not immune to your charms, either.
Aegon, who meets you shortly after the incident on Driftmark after you become friends with his sister. Helaena has few friends, many not understanding how her spirit worked, but you would quietly listen to her list out her prophecies. It didn't take long for you to take permanent residency in Kings Landing, becoming one of Helaena's ladies.
♱ As her brother, Aegon often finds himself drawn to Helaena. She is odd, yet amusing. His time in Helaena's chambers only increase after you come around.
Aegon flits from the gardens to the kitchens to the halls, wherever you may be. He follows you like a duckling having imprinted on you, and Alicent quickly takes notice.
Perhaps wanting to avoid marrying off her only daughter, Alicent convinces the King to betroth you and Aegon, and your own father has little room to argue.
♱ Aegon, despite popular rumors that flooded Court, isn't necessarily a cruel husband. Not when you knew how to work him.
You were raised with the knowledge that all men were weak. Weak to power, money, and especially women. Especially their wives. Many would have you believe that perhaps a Targaryen was exempt from this truth, but you find that Aegon is much the same. It didn't matter that he had a dragon, nor that he was a prince learning to be king despite his own father's stubbornness.
Aegon was weak for you.
♱ This all is not to say that you are a manipulative woman striving for power, but Aegon is as easy as a whole begging for coin. Show him the smallest bit of love, genuine love, and he's completely soft in your hands.
And when you finally give him children???
Aegon is lost in his infatuation for you.
Me trying to manifest George to drop more info on House Celtigar
it mostly because daeron's actor is 17, while jace's actor is 22!! but what you said doesnt even seem that bad if its just puppy love crush... so the other user just jumped the gun by calling u a creep before explaining WHY.
I'm against writing anything sexual for Jace OR Daeron due to their show canon ages. Jace is 16 in the show and Daeron is supposed to be like 15 I think.
For context, I made an edit displaying how we can see Ormund is grooming Daeron for his own ambitions for the Throne, and I had also said in a comment that I have seen a bunch of people insinuating that Daeron may have a thing for Ormund despite the fact that he RAISED HIM. It's a direct reference to what Otto did to Alicent, and I explained that very clearly in my comment.
The fic idea was basically that Daeron meets a young Celtigar! Lady and develops a puppy crush on her. I feel like they took it weirdly because whenever someone mentions fanfiction they immediately assume it's something sexualized. As a prior victim of childhood trauma, I know I wouldn't be able to write something like that!
Thank you for responding! I just wanted some insight to make sure that I wasn't out of field about the whole situation.
I would like some feedback on this, so maybe I can be educated on this stance that I have.
I mentioned to someone in one of my TikTok comments that I planned to write a fic of Daeron having a crush on a Celtigar! Reader and this person literally blocked me over it??? Like they called me a predator because I wanted to write a cute puppy love kind of fic for Daeron while I'm 22.
I genuinely do not know if I would be wrong for writing something like that considering it would just be a fic of Daeron having a crush on a girl. I'm not attracted to him at all, obviously, neither am I attracted to 90% of the characters I write for (I'm a lesbian).
I'd like some mature conversations about this, I'm unsure if I'm actually a bad person for doing this or not? Especially considering how much fanfiction (specifically smut) surrounds Jacaerys in the Fandom despite him being the same age as Daeron.
Hiii, i love your work sm, I know you’re writting hotd rn but i have come to beg for Michael gavey scraps, your stalker! Michael was super refreshing and one of the best I’ve read, please consider writting a little more of him 😩😩😩
I love Saltburn so much 💓 I'll probably write for other characters in the future, but here's some Michael thoughts!!! He's a pervy freak in this one, but that's how I like him :)
+ 18
♱ Michael meets you in class, as he met most people, but you catch his attention for a different reason.
Some girls at Oxford kept to their own circles, but you didn't seem to have such a thing. Instead of lazing about campus with friends or a boy you fancied, Michael often found you in the library or outside simply reading a book.
Reading.
A hobby many held, especially in university (it came with the territory, he supposed). You, however, always had your damn nose in some dusty pages, and it had shifted something major in Michael Gavey.
♱ He hadn't meant to follow you around campus, but Michael found it hard not to.
He'd never admit it aloud to anyone - not even himself; but Michael adored you. The way you seemed to blend into the long halls of Oxford like you yourself were made of wallpaper made him interested in you. You were like him, he initially told himself. The way you fit yourself into those long skirts and oversized jumpers had Michael hot under the collar, even in the early stages of his fascination with you.
♱ But there was one thing Michael noticed about you that drove him feral.
Those darn glasses you wore.
♱ The spectacles slipped down the arch of your nose so beautifully, and you hardly remembered to push them up, the frames nearly sliding off of your fave completely. Michael remembers the first time he'd seen them slip down your perfect nose.
He remembers the surge of primal arousal that followed.
♱ Michael didn't consider himself a stalker up until the fateful day you asked him if he needed to borrow your notes. He didn't, obviously, but you didn't need to know that! You asked him so sweetly, and he had stared at you for a good ten seconds before hastily thanking you.
And he had meant it, when he thanked you.
♱ Michael Gavey realized many things about himself after becoming infatuated with you.
1. He had a scent kink. The soft aroma of your delicate perfume warmed his insides like a heater.
2. He was pathetic.
3. He was definitely pathetic because your glasses made him hard as hell.
And finally, he discovered, he may have the hots for your handwriting.
♱ He feels pathetic as he traces the lettering of your notes with his fingers, his cock aching in his lap. He was naked from the waist down, only clad in his jumper as he chews on a pencil he stole from you a week ago.
Michael's tongue teases the wood of the writing utensil, his finger following the endless loops of your cursive, the ink neat and not a smudge in sight.
The tip of his cock twitches against the soft fabric of Michael's jumper, and without sparing the appendage a single touch, Michael hastily yanks up the sweater, his hips hump the air, his ass riding from the uncomfortable desk chair he rested in. His penis jerks, semen floods Michael's lower stomach and he braces his free arm on the desk as he's rocked through his explosive orgasm.
Michael is still shaking when his own glasses fall off of the bridge of his nose, reminding him of the thick, sexy lenses that you wore daily. His abdomen clenches, a painful throb. His arousal was too much for his body.
♱ God, he was a pervert.
I'm currently reading (obsessing over) a nonfiction true-crime piece by Gregg Olsen called Cruel Deception, and I've been occupied with that the last day or two, so sorry for the lack of updates 💔
Dark! Team Green/ Targtower! Reader/Dark! Team Black
Summary || As the youngest daughter of King Viserys Targaryen I and Queen Alicent Hightower, you are kept locked away where only your mother can see you. That is, until the Dance of the Dragons begins.
You could feel it, waking from your short slumber with a gasp. You can feel your hair sticking to your forehead, the cold sweat making you uncomfortable as you rise from your bed. Your chest aches, and without thinking, you push the door to your chambers open; your bare feet smack against the stone floor as you make your way to the King's chambers. Your pace is rushed, even as you hastily open his door and rush to his bedside.
"Father? Are you awake?"
You reach over to gently grasp at his hand, and your heart immediately plummets down into your stomach.
His flesh is cold and stiff, and you're suddenly hypersensitive to the fact that you cannot hear the labored breaths that usually could be heard from the King. He's impossibly still, stiff against the furs that covered his large bed, and you shudder as you hold his hand in your own.
"Father..."
Your voice is so small in that moment, and you allow yourself to grieve quietly before the tears and choked sobs start to leave you.
Your sobs are loud in the halls; you're choking on your grief as you push open the door to your mother's room, and Alicent immediately jumps out of bed, the concern in her eyes evident as you sob harshly, barely able to breathe.
"What's happened, (Name)? What is wrong?" Alicent holds you as you crumble to the ground; she rocks you gently as you fall apart in her arms.
You tell her, through choked cries, what you had found. The King was dead, already rotting away in his bed as everyone slept. You tell her of the vile feeling in your gut that forced you awake, and the nightmare that had come before.
Alicent herself stiffens at your words, her heart breaking in her chest as you cry hysterically into her shoulder.
She had not seen you fall apart in such a way in the sixteen years that you had been alive.
"Oh, my sweet girl..."
Alicent helps you up, your body shaking as she helps you onto her bed. Your mother wipes away the stray tears on your cheeks, a bitter smile tugging at her lips as she speaks.
"I will take care of everything; you do not have to worry."
"Where is Princess (Name)? I left her in my quarters," Alicent's nerves are frayed at the edges; she's an inch away from snapping, and your servant seems to know that, her gaze dipping nervously. "The princess went to find one of her brothers, Your Grace." Amalthea was a girl not much older than you, and more of a friend than a servant.
Alicent eyes her incredulously, her lips parting in a half sneer.
"Which brother? I just saw Aemond not too long ago."
"She said she wished to see her eldest brother, My Queen."
Alicent soon makes her way towards the bedroom Helaena and Aegon shared, and she pushes the door open with a certain ferocity that could only be described as desperate. The slamming door frightens Helaena, and Alicent stares at her as her eldest daughter pauses her needlework.
She notices Aegon's absence almost immediately, and she sees you curled up against a pillow, sleeping soundly. You hug Aegon's pillow, a thick golden silk thing that you were quite jealous of; you breathe shallowly, and you take in the stale scent of old wine and honey, a smell you found reminded you much of your brother.
It calms Alicent to see you safe and sound, finally getting a bit of rest after your evening of grief. The queen turns her attention to Helaena.
"Where is Aegon?"
Helaena's eyes darted to where you slept before she answered.
"He left just recently," Helaena's voice is gentle as she lays a hand on her pregnant belly. "He said he wanted to fly this morning."
Alicent feels her heart drop into her stomach.
"What... Who escorted him?"
"How should I know?"
Helaena has no malice in her tone, but she has always been a very blunt person; more often than not, she speaks her mind, hardly taking social cues into consideration.
Alicent glances towards you, her youngest child. You are curled up into yourself, hugging a pillow to your chest, and Helaena speaks once more.
"The little dragon grieves whilst the snakes plot."
You stand quietly next to your grandfather, your eyes still red and watery from your tears. They had come and gone all day, and a certain shadow of exhaustion had enveloped you. Your mother had informed you and your siblings that your father had expressed his desire for Aegon to succeed him, and you felt your heart drop at her words. Aegon had fled, and Aemond had retrieved him. Now you all stood in the sept, awaiting the new king.
You are dressed in a black chiffon dress, the layers light, the black serving to speak of your grief. The day of your father's passing, things were being rushed beyond belief. You wanted nothing more than to climb upon Silverwing and ride away your sorrows.
Alas.
Duty came before all else.
"Long live the King!"
You dab at your eyes gently, and a soft sob leaves you when Helaena grasps your hand in her own. You thought, in the moment, that she was simply attempting to comfort you, but you soon realized that she was shaking and nervous.
Glancing at her confused; you only have a moment to brace yourself before the sept starts to shake, the stone crumbles, and a large dragon erupts from beneath.
Meleys breaks through the ground, sending countless innocent smallfolk to their deaths. You flinch in fear, yet your heart begins to ache for the women, men, and children whose lives would be forfeit due to the woman who rode upon Meleys' back.
"Protect the girls!" You hear your mother snap at Ser Criston Cole, and he swiftly hides both you and Helaena behind him.
It's foolish, you think.
He was a remarkably strong man, Ser Cole, but he would not win against a dragon. You wonder if Princess Rhaenys would really kill you and your siblings as you stood defenseless behind your mother's sworn shield? Would she slaughter you all, as Grandfather Otto promised they all would once Papa died?
Helaena's grip on your hand tightens, and you think of her pregnant belly, and of the twins.
What would become of little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera if you all died here?
You could hardly bear the thought.
However, your deaths are cut short when Meleys breaks away from the gates of the pit, trampling more smallfolk under her claws.
You understood the gravity of your situation, whether your father truly changed his mind or not.
War was coming.
"Princess, I could be slain for abetting you in this endeavor," Ser Rickard Thorne walks you still through the dirtied streets of King's Landing, clothed in a simple cloak, his longsword still nestled at his side. You yourself wrap a black cloak around yourself, one of Aemond's. You pull the thick fabric closer to your skin, hiding the silver-gray of your riding clothes. "My friend Amalthea has promised to defend you against my mother, Ser. If anything should happen, I will take the punishment in your stead. I, however, cannot stand idly by."
The two of you enter the dark catacombs of the dragon pit through a secret passage, one you had learned in your years of following Aegon wherever he went.
"How long will your journey be?" "Just a day or two; I'm only going to Oldtown to alert my kin of the dire situation... I do not believe peace is a possibility now."
"Princess..."
A dragonkeeper meets you outside of where Silverwing resided, and you straighten your back before explaining that you wish to ride your dragon.
"The King sends me to deliver a message in his stead, please ready Silverwing."
A few moments later, Silverwing's purr could be heard as she nudges you with her snout. Your gloved hands pet at her beautiful scales for a moment before you turn back to Ser Thorne. Silverwing blinks curiously at the man, her tail swishes behind her happily as she senses a flight coming.
"I fly now as a messenger, not a warrior."
"I will alert my brother and uncles of what has happened. Relay this to my mother immediately, as soon as you enter the Keep."
You smile at Ser Rickard, a bitter little thing, your nerves already frayed from the day's events.
Silverwing takes to the skies, your hood flies off of your head, and the wind ruffles your auburn curls.
"Nāejot Oldtown, Silverwing," you coax your dragon as her large wings bat. You glance at Kings Landing as she hovers above the city, a certain feeling of dread settling in your chest. Your mother was sure to be cross, but Aemond had told you dragons were faster than ravens.
¹ To Oldtown, Silverwing
Silverwing mewls loudly as you happen upon Oldtown, and you breathe a sigh of relief as the many hearths and lanterns light the city up like a blazing fire. You can see the many large bells, despite the late hour of the night. You can hear the excited honks of Tessarion as she notices you in the air, and Silverwing lands near the gates of Oldtown.
As you slide off of Silverwing's back, you are met halfway by a Hightower knight.
A nervous tilt to your voice, you approach the man with heavy steps.
"I bring news from King Aegon for the Lord of Oldtown."
This fic will be more Team Green centered, so if that bothers you please go and read one of my other fics!
Also I would like to thank everyone for all the support on this series! I'm really enjoying myself writing it, so seeing people show support for it is so important to me <3
Some short imagines of being the lover of those in House Hightower
Dark! House Hightower/Reader
Age gap imagines with my favorite house <3
Dark! Otto Hightower/Rhaenyra's Twin! Reader
♱ The younger twin sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you had taken more after your mother. Gentle and quiet in nature, you had developed into a wallflower of sorts, often overshadowed by your sister and forgotten by your father. Whilst Rhaenyra paraded around as heir, you are left to your own devices, and you much preferred it that way.
As did your father's closest companion.
♱ Otto Hightower watches as you grow from an anxious young girl to a delicate and elegant young lady, and he finds himself enraptured by you, as taboo as it may have been.
While your sister fled to Dragonstone, you remained in King's Landing, too worried about your father's condition to leave him alone. You don't marry due to your delicate health, and your days are spent in the library or in the sept, and it absolutely sets Otto aflame.
♱ Otto had no intention of finding love or lust after the death of his wife. Otto seems to find both in you as he snakes his way into your personal life.
You feel the grip of Otto's fist as he bunches up your gown, and you pray that no one enters the library as you whimper gently into the pages of your beloved book.
You can feel the hardness of his cock through his breeches, crying out as his thick, ringed fingers press into your cunt.
You knew Ser Otto to be an honorable man, but this was the farthest thing from honorable.
"M-My Lord," You stumble over your words, shivering at the kiss he pressed against the nape of your neck. Otto groans against you, a certain revulsion taking his mind. He had not felt lust overtake him in nearly a decade, and here you were, tempting sin from every inch of his being. A woman no older than his own daughter, a princess of the realm.
It was debauched.
It was vile.
It was arousing.
Otto thrust forward, his cock bottoming out with a roughness no one would expect from a man of his station. He'd have to manipulate your dying father into marrying you to him; that much Otto was sure.
Afterall,
You couldn't have any bastards running around, now, could you?
Dark! Ormund Hightower/Targaryen! Reader
♱ You were the last child of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, your twin brother dying along with your mother. You'd never met Aemma Arryn, and no one ever spoke of her to you. She existed as a ghost in your childhood, and you knew that your older sister blamed you to some extent.
Rhaenyra could not love you fully, but you had a family.
Alicent had raised you alongside her own children, loving you deeply.
So, when her cousin asks for your hand, there isn't much hesitation from your mother's side.
♱ You meet Ormund on an occasion when he comes to King's Landing, and before you know it, you are being courted by a man old enough to be your father. Ormund is older, yes, but he is kind, and he shares your dislike for your home. You never felt welcome in the Red Keep, and Ormund offers you a way out.
He's the yearning type, pining for you in a way he knew was not appropriate. You were so gentle, pious in a way that aroused Ormund to no end. He wanted you carnally, yes, but also in such a pure way. Ormund wants to worship you; he believes that you deserve it more than any god could.
♱ He marries you as quickly as possible, thinking that your union is preordained despite the age difference.
It didn't matter that he has been married before, it didn't matter that you were leagues younger than him.
Ormund wanted you.
So, he took you.
Ormund's hands are gentle as he holds your cheeks in his palms. A gasp leaves his lips as he catches your eyes glancing up at him. He can feel your tongue, your throat, your teeth. It's all too much to bear, and he's vaguely aware that you aren't married yet, and that he is corrupting you. A sin more egregious than murder, he would say.
Normally.
Your lashes flutter softly, and Ormund groans into your mouth; his fingers slip past your ears to cup your nape to keep you in place as he kisses you deeply. You're inexperienced; it's obvious in the way you move your lips uncertainly against his own, and how your hands fist his shirt anxiously.
It should bother him, Ormund thinks.
It should bother him that he is corrupting such innocence, taking your first kiss under the moonlight in the royal garden. It should bother Ormund, but it instead arouses him, his cock straining against his pants as his tongue slips past your lips and teeth. It isn't the first kiss you deserve, he knows, but he is losing his composure.
You gasp suddenly as his tongue runs over your own; the sensation is odd, yet not entirely unpleasant.
You pull away, then. Your voice is shaky as you pant from the lack of oxygen, suddenly hyperaware of the public setting of your encounter.
You are the very image of innocence, and it sets Ormund on fire.
He wouldn't take you tonight; he had his limits. Ormund would not debase you in such a manner; he was still a man of faith, as thin as his patience was being stretched.
It kills him to escort you to your room, kissing you goodnight, yet he does it without complaint.
Because a woman such as you deserved to be worshiped, not ravaged.
Dark! Gwayne Hightower/Lady! Reader
♱ No older than Gwayne's oldest nephew, you are a close companion of Daeron's, and you constantly have Gwayne questioning his morals.
A soft, gentle lady from the House of Ashford, you were a sweet little thing. Intelligent, yet naive in many ways. It came with your age, Gwayne thought, but you were a loyal friend to his beloved nephew. Daeron adored you, as did many others in Oldtown where you had been sent to Ward all those years ago. Four years Daeron's senior, your friend remained protective of you, much like a dragon would be over its treasure.
♱ Gwayne hates himself for being so attached to you. You were younger than him, a sixteen-year difference enough to make him feel just a little bit gross. Yet, he cannot stop himself from vying for your attention...
You are a gentle creature, Gwayne knows. He isn't used to the gentle hands or soft words that you offer him without thought, and so you often have him reduced to a fluttering mess of obsession.
It is you who has Gwayne wrapped around your finger, and the knight can no longer imagine his existence without you taking a vital part in it.
♱ Gwayne's love isn't intense or overstimulating; it is gentle and overcoming. He loves much in the way that he serves honorably. A knight's duty is to protect the innocent, and that is how Gwayne approaches your relationship.
He protects every aspect of your being, whether you believe you need him to or not.
Gwayne holds your hands tenderly, pressing his lips against your knuckles in a gentle gesture of pure devotion.
He can see your embarrassed expression, and it sets him alight with a certain fire he could not put into words even if he tried. He can feel your fingers tremble slightly as he holds them. You are a nervous creature, unable to help yourself at the feeling of his smooth lips pressed against your skin.
The intimacy of kissing your hands has Gwayne flushed down to his bones, yet he remains still, ignoring the arousal that stirs in his loins.
Gwayne glances at you as you whisper a simple utterance of his name, the syllables smooth against your tongue.
If you'd let him, Gwayne swears he'd worship you like a god. It may have been sacrilege, but a part of him didn't care. The Seven had nothing on his religion, the holy arousal that flowed through his veins instead of blood whenever you were near, whenever you allowed him to touch you like this.
Ser Gwayne was your devoted lover, in every sense of the word.
Dark! Alicent Hightower/Lady! Reader
♱ Alicent, who develops an unhealthy infatuation with one of her ladies-in-waiting. You are similar in age to Helaena, yet you chose to serve the Queen instead. You found a similar spirit in Alicent, looking up to her more than you could put into words, and Alicent enjoyed your company greatly.
You follow Alicent around like a duckling who had imprinted upon someone, and she finds it so enthralling.
♱ Alicent had been powerless for such a long time, never having had anything to call her own, so when she has you, she feels a certain power in her veins. You are willing to stay by her side, rejecting plenty of marriage proposals so you could continue under her watch. You would need her leave to marry, and you find that Alicent does not find any man worthy of your hand or womb.
Alicent does not know that she sees you in a romantic light until after Viserys passes. In some twisted way, she thinks of you as a sisterly companion. Her jealousy, she thinks, is due to her not having any friends at court. Alicent cannot bear the idea of you leaving her, especially not for some man.
♱ It's only after you come to comfort her in her chambers after her husband dies that Alicent's self-control snaps like a thread under a candle.
Two bodies melted together against Alicent's bed, a mess of gowns and misplaced undergarments. Alicent moans above you; a gentle whimper leaves her lips as she humps softly against your thigh, her fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. Her hips are stuttering, and you can feel the sticky wetness swear and drip against the soft flesh of your thigh.
Your own thighs tremble, your queen thumbs at your clit, and Alicent presses her lips against your own to stifle her own moans of pleasure.
It's a feeling of sweet relief, Alicent having never felt so satisfied a day in her life.
She had taken you much in the way men took their wives, and it was so...
Arousing.
Your nose bumps against her own, and you shyly grip at the dark green fabric of her gown, keeping it pulled past her hips so she could continue to hump at you like a depraved dog. Alicent can feel her core throbbing intensely, and she knows that she wouldn't trade this for anything.
She'd dreamt of this, she admits to herself. Dreamt of bending you over one of the wax-riddled sept corners, riding your backend like some sort of common whore.
These fantasies had resided in the darkest part of Alicent's mind, only allowed to surface in the quiet moments she allowed herself, usually in the comfort of her bath.
She intended to make the most of it now that she finally had you.
Criston Cole is such a realistic character because I, too, would become a munch if Alicent were my queen.
