thinking about aerion with sister!reader who resembles their mom... maybe she's a couple years older than him? his mommy issues would go crazy
⋆˙⟡aerion targaryen x older!sister!reader
╰┈➤ WARNINGS, smut, dark themes, usual targcest, aerion taking advantage of reader’s good nature, mommy kink, he’s a pervert,tit sucking, ass smacking, aerion is a boob guy, obsession, slight dubcon, I’m sorry this took so long, hope this is everything you wished for anon!!
Out of all your siblings, you resembled your mother the most — it was probably why you and your younger brother, whom most people thought of as cruel, were so close. But what were you supposed to do when he’d knock on your chamber door on the night of the owl, drunk and… hysterical? Slam the door in his face? Perhaps you should have. Perhaps then he wouldn’t have made a habit of it, turning every few nights into a reluctant ritual.
You had always been told that you were too soft, too kind-natured, and that if you didn’t bear such a striking resemblance to the late Dyanna Dayne, with your strong dornish features, people might have whispered that you’d been switched at birth. Only, there was no denying who you were. You carried her not in the color of your eyes, but in every smile, even sharing the same birth mark on your breast that she had. No amount of teasing, stares, or gossip could erase that. You were truly your mother’s daughter.
And your baby brother, Aerion, adored you for it.
Unfortunately, one of the traits you hadn’t inherited from her was the ability to refuse — that, you got from your father. And so, every time your brother showed up, craving your comfort, as he liked to call it, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. Being the good sister you were, you’d open the door, invite him in, telling yourself you were doing the right thing, even though a small, uneasy part of you whispered that perhaps you shouldn’t.
Of course, Aerion knew this. He knew you wouldn’t turn him away and so he took advantage of your kind nature. “What would I do without you…my dearest older sister?” He’d mumble softly, resting his head on your plush breasts as though they were the most comfortable pillows in the seven kingdoms.
The two of you would spend many nights like this, you stroking his hair as a mother would to soothe its babe until he until he would drunkenly fall asleep in your arms. By morning, you’d find your chamber empty and he was always fine again, as though nothing had happened. For that, you were grateful. The last thing you needed was your reputation tarnished. Your father, Maekar, already carried the weight of worry, your youngest brother, Egg, (and personal favourite sibling) was missing. What kind of daughter would you be if you added to his burdens?
However, one thing that never changed, was the lingering glances. You could always feel Aerion’s lilac eyes on you, even when your back was turned, even in a crowded room. They always seemed to follow, as if you could never escape his gaze.
The mad prince wasn’t just a brat who obsessed over the nights he spent curled up in your arms — he was a creep too. His fascination began the day your mother perished, your uncanny resemblance to her had captivated him from the start. The fact that you were a few years older than him deepened it. Only you could handle him, like only a mother could her unruly child. Perhaps, without meaning to, you had even stepped into her place.
The moment Aerion saw mother’s body turn into flames, a part of him vanished. Yet every second he spent time with you, that ‘gentler’ side returned, though only in your presence. Gods forbid any of his other siblings found out how pathetic he was with you.
Though you treasured the fact that you were the only one he let witness that gentler side of himself, you were no fool. You had heard the whispers. How often the mad prince visited brothels, seeking the attention of wenches, indulging in certain activities. So you told yourself, that his interest or rather, fixation with you was no different. That it was nothing more than a passing phase, one that he’d soon grow tired of. Only, that idea made you a greater fool than you could ever imagine, for you had no idea how far his obsession went.
Little did you know, every whore he requested be bought to him all shared one unsettling thing in common — they looked eerily like you.
Aerion was no fool either, he knew exactly what would happen if he were ever caught leaving your chambers. The two of you would be forced to wed. And yet, no matter how tempting that sounded to him, out of respect for you, he was always careful. He knew how deeply it would upset you if rumours of you being defiled by him reached ears, because who would believe a princess who said she was offering him only comfort?
In his own cruel, twisted, fucked up way, he loved you. He truly loved you and because of that he did not wish to see you suffer. Hard to imagine that for once, Aerion ‘brightflame’ did not revel in the misfortune of another. He believed that in time, you would realise that the two of you were perfect for one another and for now, he remained content.
Content with moaning your name everytime he spilled his seed into a girl with almost identical features to yours.
Content with slipping his hands underneath your night gown while you peacefully slept, fingertips wandering over your bare body like you had always belonged to him.
Perfectly content with jerking his ferocious cock while peering at you through the tiny hole in the door, watching you bathe.
Tonight was no different from the ones before. By now, you and Aerion had fallen into an unspoken routine, almost ritualistic in the way he sought you out. You sat before your mirror, slowly drawing the brush through your brown locs, each stroke patient. The quiet stretched as you waited, your thoughts drifted to Aerion, wondering what he would need this time.
Would he come seeking your silent comfort, resting his head on your plush thighs while soft whispers slipped from your lips? Or would be arrive breathless, too intoxicated to form a proper sentence, stumbling over his words. Either way, you would be ready.
Though perhaps you shouldn’t, you had always felt a flicker of pity for your younger brother. Yes, he was cruel, malicious in both words and actions, certainly a very complex man. But he hadn’t always been this way. You knew that better than anyone, after all, you had practically raised him. And it seemed you still continued to do so.
You flinched slightly at the harsh knock on your chamber door, the loud sound echoing across the room. He arrived earlier than usual. Knowing exactly who stood on the other side of it, you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, rising from your seat with grace. Your nightgown hung low, leaving much of your chest exposed, yet hugged your curves perfectly. Reaching for the door handle, you took a deep breath. The faint hesitation in your movements appeared everytime and still, you always let him in.
Even you couldn’t fathom why you could never find it in your heart to refuse him. Was it pity, understanding, kindness… or was it something else entirely?
“Sister..” he said in low voice, his lilac eyes immediately darkening when they landed on your figure. With your gown barely covering anything, you felt exposed beneath his intense gaze. The air thickened with tension, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Only when you cleared your throat did his eyes finally leave your body.
He seemed different today — less drunk and…more aware.
Afraid someone might see and get the wrong idea, you opened the door a little wider, a quiet invitation for him to step inside. Your breath caught as he passed you, close enough the brush of his body against yours felt intentional, lingering for a second too long. You ignored the way your pulsed quickened at the brief contact, turning to shut door softly behind him.
“What troubles you this evening, brother?” You asked with precision, your tone practiced as though you had performed this ritual countless of times before. Probably because you have.
“I needed you,” he interrupted, deliberately avoiding your question, “I still need you…now.”
“Need me?” Your brows furrowed, confusion flickering across your face, your composure never faltering. Hands clasped behind your back, you took a measured step toward him. “Yes.” He answered though it sounded more like a command, as if he expected you to act without question — like the wenches he reeked of did.
Seeing your hesitation, he pressed on. “Please sister, lay with me—please, I need you, only you.” The last words, only you, lingered in your head long after the he fell silent. His voice carried a desperation you had never heard of from him before, making you wonder what may have driven him to this vulnerable state.
Swallowing, you walked over to your bed without speaking; there was no need to. Aerion watched as you settled yourself, every movement calm, before gesturing for him to join you, patting the empty space beside you. Wasting no time, he pulled off his tunic and eased himself onto the bed which creaked under the weight of both your bodies, mainly his (fatass).
As you lay in silence, he wrapped his arm around your waist, nestling into the curve of your neck. He let out a soft sigh, immediately feeling more at ease inhaling your scent. “Vezof jin azantys (my beloved), do you mind if I try something different today?” He mumbled against your soft skin, his grip on your body tightening as though he was afraid someone would snatch you away from him.
You had grown so accustomed to your little brother’s company that you instinctively leaned into his touch, allowing your tiredness to take over. “N—No, I don’t,” you murmured softly, the words slipping out before you could think. With exhaustion from the day’s events washing over you, your mind was too foggy to even register what he said.
Aerion paused at that, “You don’t?” he repeated, eagerness creeping into his voice. He lifted his head, his gaze settling on your drowsy form. So beautiful, he thought to himself. “Mm..no..” you murmured again, your eyelids drifting shut. Poor, naive you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.
His eyes trailed down to your cleavage, your sheer gown scarcely covered your body, shifting with every small movement. Your chest rose in a steady rhythm as you drew deep breaths. Aerion was captivated by the sight, admiring you as though the Seven themselves had carved you. “Oh, big sister, I’m sorry,” he whispered, his mouth hovering only inches from your bare skin. “Truly… but I can’t hold back anymore.”
His words came out like a confession, heavy with desire. The mad prince himself couldn’t recognize what was happening to him. One minute he was surrounded by whores from the brothel, the next he was panting with need, knowing only that he had to see his big sister. Through the haze of wine and noise, all he could feel was that persistent need and even now, beside you, the urge had not faded.
It seemed to consume his entire existence. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured your glossy, doe-like ones staring back at him.
“Please, sister,” Aerion pleaded, his hot breath fanning across your face. The desperation in his voice sent a quiet jolt through you, and at last your body seemed to wake. Though you did not understand what he meant, your hands still flew up to cup his cheeks in an attempt to comfort him. “Aerion, you have no reason to apologise to me, I—”
He cuts you off, “After tonight sister, yes, yes I will.” You gasp as your baby brother nuzzles his face into your chest, nibbling and chewing on the fabric around your breasts. He knew he coud just simply rip the nightgown apart but what was the fun in that? Your eyes widened at the realisation of what he was trying to do. Horrified by his depraved actions, you attempt to pull away but his grip on your body only tightens.
“Aerion!” you whisper-shout, too scared to properly raise your voice in case someone were to hear and walk in. “Don’t worry about the knights, any knights, actually,” he said, voice low and raspy, his gaze was fixated on the wet patch of saliva that lay on your gown. He grimaced at the way the damp fabric was going see-through, revealing your hardened nipple breath it. “I took care of them all.”
The unsettling calmness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. Taking a deep, unsteady breath, you shifted back to your previous position beside him. Your hands rose to gently stroke his hair as you allowed him to continue what he was doing. After all, you know better than anyone what Aerion is like when he doesn’t get what he wants.
You had often silently hoped he would grow bored of you and simply leave you alone. But you hadn’t realised how deeply you had already become entangled with him. From the night you welcomed him into your chambers and tended to him, he had made up his mind — he was never letting you go. Perhaps your kindness was not a gift at all, but a curse in disguise from the Seven.
Aerion’s tongue traced slowly along your mound. The fabric had turned sheer from his spit, so you felt every motion through it. You whine at the unfamiliar sensation, tugging at his silver hair to pull him away, but he doesn’t move, instead he takes your bud in his mouth.
“Aerion, brother, you must stop, this isn’t—ahh” You don’t want to like it, but your body betrays you, back arching into the soft mattress below. His large hand reaches down to cup your ass, pulling you firmly against him. In the same motion, his other hand grips the fabric at your chest and tears it open.
You gasp as your bare tits are exposed to his gaze, your nipples instantly hardening in the cold night air. He pauses to admire them, his gaze shamelessly wandering over your perky tits before he lowers his head once more. “Aerion stop,” You try to protest, pulling at his hair with more force, but he attaches his mouth onto your breast anyway.
While you muffle your sounds by biting down on your lower lip, Aerion is as loud as a dragon would be, groaning into your chest after every lick. Pressing his head deeper between your tits, he sucks softly at your delicate skin, leaving lingering marks behind as though to mark you as his. “Please,” he breathes between kisses, voice low with need. “Please, mother, forgive me, I’ll be better this time.”
You are too tired to register what he called you, but perhaps if you had, it might have made his strange behavior tonight much easier to understand.
Understand how far his obsession with you, or rather with your late mother went…
He continues to nibble on your skin, hand landing sharp smacks on your backside as you lie there helpless, eyes half-lidded. You hope slumber will claim you, even if it means waking with an ache between your legs in the morning.
But deep down, you could never bring yourself to hate your baby brother — not when you could remember so vividly the sweet child he once was, before the tragic loss of your mother, before he redirected the love he held for her toward you.
You used to believe that if you fulfilled the role of a mother to him, he would eventually change, shed his new cruel ways and return to the sweet boy he once was under your care. But now, laying under him, you weren’t so sure that was true.
comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated <3
