#Aemond getting dragged deeper and deeper into a ‘this is not what I wanted this is not what I wanted’ spiral~

[bitterseaproduction]

Aemond getting his eye or forcing Luke to give it to him, only for the wound to become infected and Luke’s bedridden and delirious and going through what will probably be a slow, agonizing death among mostly strangers in enemy territory while Aemond is just there like🧍

#love me a good ‘be careful what you wish for’ scenario ☺️ #Luke doesn’t deserve this but I would hope he’d appreciate the harsh awakening for his favorite green #Aemond getting dragged deeper and deeper into a ‘this is not what I wanted this is not what I wanted’ spiral~ #all culminating in a fevered Luke asking for HIM (since he’s the only familiar face) and screw the war screw his bride screw any summons #he’s not leaving that boy’s side #and yeah it could be set somewhere else/another time #but the Baratheons watching their new ally slowly fall to pieces over his own victim? priceless #from ‘I’m gonna maim this kid’ to ‘if anything happens to him I’ll kill everyone in this castle and then myself’ in like a day & a half #and if luke actually lives— poor boy has lost an eye but gained a dragon. somehow. #Aemond trying to pledge his life to him in some raw impassioned speech while Luke can barely comprehend what’s happening #‘I would die for you.’ ‘Soooo we’re cool then?’ #lucemond

[themotherofhorses]

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. secret relationship. some sweet fluff. a highkey dark & obsessive aemond (as usual, that’s basically my brand). babytrapping. mentions of tiddy sucking but that’s rlly it.

notes: hi my little loves, long time no write. several months back, @welight-theway asked for a continuation of the bodyguard!aemond fic, so here it is! hope you enjoy it !! 🫶🏼

also im literally walking out the door as i post this, to walk the graduation stage and get my bachelor's hehe. 2nd gen college student over here 🥰

masterlist

As funny as it might sound, it was your breasts that tipped him off to the little one in your belly.

Sergeant Aemond One-Eye Targaryen is unashamedly a boob man — one so incredibly obsessed with your boobs, as much so as he is with the rest of your body, heart, and soul combined. He actually remembers this particular shirt (a low-cut halter top in his favorite color) you wore to a close friend’s birthday dinner; it looked absolutely stunning on you, showing off the perfect teasingly amount of cleavage that left his mouth watering and pants painfully tight. He helped you sneak out of the house with it, knowing that your father would’ve busted the vein in his forehead if he saw. It was three weeks into his new job as your personal bodyguard and four long years into his infatuation with you.

But that was around four months, and now he has you, and knows you — both inside and out.

So when your pretty face scrunches up in obvious discomfort when he sucks on your right boob and gnaws at your nipple, he is left raising an eyebrow. He has your boobs in his mouth all the time… the short hiss that soon follows between gritted teeth is a bit concerning as well. What is wrong, baby? he coos. It feels sore, you whine, hiding your face in his neck. Hurts too, daddy. Don’t like it. And you’re right, he realizes. Both your breasts and nipples appear more swollen than usual, puffy and tender, and maybe even … a bit plumper too?

Aemond thinks he has a faint grasp of what might be going on with his sweet girl.

He spends the following week eyeing your every movement around him, studying the way you walk and talk, eat and sleep, and how often you might visit the restroom. Frequent urination, odd food cravings, some complaints of minor backache here and there, and midday fatigue … when he googles ‘signs you might be pregnant’ later that evening, his suspicions are correct.

You are pregnant…with his baby. Oh. OH! Aemond is simply over the moon. He wants to cry and shout and pound his chest in happiness, manners and etiquette be damned. And he didn’t think it was actually possible, but he feels himself falling deeper in love with you, his mind constantly muddled with the sight of you fucked so full of him.

This … this is what you were made for, he knows — carrying all his babies, giving him the family he deserves.

“You’ve made me a daddy,” he mumbles against your stomach, careful not to stir you. You’re cuddled around a silk body pillow, exhausted from the four orgasms he gave you, fisting the sheets in a tight grip. “Good girl.” He then presses a tiny, feathery kiss above your belly button, gently dragging his lips across your soft skin, before closing his eyes. Aemond remembers a dreamlike fantasy he had around two years ago, back when he was stationed overseas at Ali Al Salem in Kuwait. He had been napping in an army tent, your picture clutched between his thumb and index finger.

(His favorite picture. Your father had posted it on Instagram as a birthday post; you were sitting at the dinner table with a strawberry shortcake cupcake centered in front of you, the 18-shaped candle poking out of the thick frosting.)

In his dream, you were his pretty little housewife, fingers laced together as you anxiously awaited your husband’s return. Once his laced-up combat boots stepped inside the American airport, you flung yourself into his arms, pleading with him never to leave you again. And he promised. Gods, did he promise. You were everything and more, how could he possibly neglect you again? He woke up only five minutes later, just when you were shyly spreading your legs open, and he was catching a glimpse of your wet cunt; he could’ve cursed the world and murdered someone at that moment.

Aemond almost wishes he could tell that younger sergeant that it’ll all be worth it. All that fucking fixation and hard work would play out in the end, and his ship would arrive at the right dock, and she’d be there to greet him.

Two months in, he notices all the small changes in your body. You’re none the wiser, of course, but your breasts are fuller, and your pretty face is carrying a new glow that shines along your cheekbones and smile. And the baby bump isn’t quite obvious yet, although that doesn’t stop his attention from constantly straying down to your tummy, in hopes of seeing something — anything —  poke out. How could he not admire his beautiful and pregnant woman?

I know you’re in there, he sometimes thinks to himself, mostly in amusement. You might have fooled your mother, but not your daddy.  

Three and a half weeks later, he kisses the tip of your nose and lips before whispering the news in your ear. Your head tilts in equal shock and confusion while your eyes widen and eyebrows furrow. “I’m…pregnant?” you breathe out. You then squint down, watching as your palm flattens across your lower belly. “Are… are you sure?”

He nods. “The signs are all there, baby.”

“What signs?”

“Remember when you were complaining about your breasts earlier?” You nod. He continues, “-sore and sensitive breasts are usually a sign of pregnancy. Haven’t you noticed that they’re a bit… fuller as well? Cup ‘em, baby, feel them.”

You do as he says, cupping your breasts. Around your nipples is a little tenderness that does hurt a bit, and they do fill out in your hands, but you didn’t think much of it before. You chalked it up to PMSing but now… now you’re left speechless, unable to process anything else but the fact you might actually be pregnant. Chuckling, Aemond rests his hands on your shoulders before pressing his forehead against yours. In his lone eye — both happiness and pride.

“I’m so sure of this… but if you’d like, just to be on the safe side, we can always have you take a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah!” you perk up. “Yeah…yeah, um, I think that is a good idea. Just to be positive, y’know.”

Aemond runs a quick trip to the local CVS, and forty-five minutes later, the pregnancy test displays two pink lines, side by side.

You’re pregnant with Aemond’s baby.

He’s completely overjoyed. You’re just trying to mentally plan out how to break the news to your father.  

So it is quite hard to hide a swelling belly; this you learn throughout the next few months. You got lucky during the first trimester, having barely shown with some minor symptoms. But now halfway into your second trimester, there are only so many oversized sweaters and graphic t-shirts you can wear until it arouses suspicion.  

But Aemond, he is simply so gentle and loving towards you, providing constant naked cuddles and belly strokes. He feels more like a husband than a lover, or even a retired decorated sergeant hired as your bodyguard.

You’re a bit worried about public reaction, and your father’s response to your unexpected pregnancy. Your father loves you so much, but at the end of the day, he is still your father, and you are his little girl. “What are the chances he might blacklist you?” you ask Aemond one afternoon, the two of you in the kitchen cooking lunch. “And send me to a nunnery in Switzerland?”

Aemond laughs. “Very unlikely, baby.”

“He’s going to be so upset…”

“It’ll be fine, quit worrying so much.”

“AEMOND!” you snap, bracing against the kitchen counter. Your temple falls into your hands, and you feel that sudden rush of stupid pregnancy hormones overcoming your thoughts. “It won’t be fine! Don’t you understand?! He’s going to hate me! HATE ME! He’s going to be so disappointed with me. I’m still young, in college, and unwedded. Can you imagine all the shit the public will say? All his political rivals, the media, people in school…”

I’m done. In the public’s eye, I’m ruined.

Aemond pauses his mixing of the salad greens, nuts, vegetables, and cheese, setting the bowl to the side. His head drops, and he lets out a loud sigh. “No one is taking you away from me,” he states, in a low and raspy voice. “Especially your damn father.” You blink, taken back a bit. “I don’t give a shit that your dad is the damn president of this fucking nation. You’re mine. That kid in your belly is mine.”

“Aemond…”

“I’ll marry you if I need to. Is that what your father wants? Would he be happy if his pregnant daughter was married to her baby daddy? Would it make all this unnecessary drama shit better? Cause I’ll fucking do it.”

You glance down at your bare feet, wiggling your painted toes. The mauve-colored nail polish is chipping along your big toenail. If you’d ask, Aemond would definitely repaint them.  

“Do you want me to marry you?”

Your tongue wets your bottom lip before you press your mouth in a tight line. “I don’t know if my daddy will let me marry you…” you admit, toying with your fingers.

Aemond then leans against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh? Is that so?” In his mind, he is freshly eighteen and enlisting in the army, attempting so hard to ignore the snarky comments made toward both his nose and chin and quiet demeanor. All the doubt and torment, the constant undermining and discouragement, and being told he’d never amount to a higher ranking.

His eye drops to your baby bump poking out from behind your shirt, and the delicious way those cute booty shorts hug your hips. You’re everything and more. “I can’t lose you,” he says, shaking his head. “I will not lose you.” He is so incredibly in love with you, driven by obsession, and deepened by the fact that you’re carrying his child.

“I’ll marry you. Next month, next week, even tomorrow if you’d like. Just say yes, and I’ll handle the rest.”

He has the ring in his bedroom, tucked away in the back of his top bedside table drawer — a love knot, glittering with a French pave’ set of diamonds that cover the band halfway in 18k white gold. A symbol of everlasting love, he was told by the jeweler. It’s been in his possession for well over a year now, he just needed to find a reason to use it.

And a baby seems like the perfect reason, doesn’t it?

(creds to the loml my literal everything @chainsawsangel for the banner above <33)

taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke

#aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

[cleopatra-x]

Take Me Deeper (18+)

Pairing | Aemond Targaryen x female reader

word count | 1.7k

Summary: Bored at family dinner, you decide to tease your lord husband.

Warnings | SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; mean!aemond, oral (m reciving), choking, breath play?, light bondage

Notes | Not really sure what this is, but I hope you enjoy it. This is NOT beta read.

You know this is wanton, but you don’t care.

It’s another boring family dinner with your good family, and you hate having to play the role of the modest wife. Especially, when all you can think about is your husband bending you into every position possible. It’s only been two weeks since you were wed, and your husband has satisfied you in ways you never imagined. You quite literally never want to leave his bed.

So, you decide to get a raise out of your darling husband.

You subtly pick up a dark red cherry from the fruit bowl, staring Aemond in his eye. You envelope your lips around the sweet fruit, gently pulling it from its stem. You take a large bite, as the juice dribble down your chin.

You can see the effect it has on him, as he shifts in his seat, clenching his jaw. He glances around the room, everyone focused in their own conversation to even consider the both of you.

Aemond narrows his eye at you from across the room, a silent but deadly warning. You were getting extremely impatient, the heat between your legs intensifying at the thought of him taking you in front of his entire family.

You use your index finger to wipe your stained chin, and suck the finger clean. You can see his thoughts run wild, as if they were painted on his forehead.

The sudden thunderous slam on the table, makes everyone jump including yourself. The room descends into quietness, everyone’s attention directed towards Aemond.

“I would like a word with my wife.” He finally speaks up, before anyone could ask or protest, he was around the table, and dragging you out into the halls.  

Aemond was never truly rough with you in bed, always being delicate as if you were made of glass. But this time it feels different. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as he silently rushes towards your martial chambers.

“Under no circumstances should we be disturbed,” he calls out with a dismissive gesture towards his guard. “Doesn’t matter what you hear coming from our bed-chamber, no one should approach. Is that clear?” His nameless guard nods solemnly and scurries away.

You swallow audibly, now becoming nervous as he herds you into the bedchambers and slams it shut.

“You need to learn that such depraved actions have consequences,” he cautions, staring you down.

He somehow looks taller, more imposing than usual. His face has harsher contours. A static hot shiver slides down your spine. You part your lips to defend your actions, but he raises a hand, cutting you off.

“You may only speak if I ask you to,” he snarls and walks behind you. 

“Aem,” you begin, but he clasps his hand roughly over your mouth from behind.

“What did I just say?” He warns hot against your ear. “And you call me Sir tonight, or you don’t call me anything. Do you understand me?” He removes the hand away from your mouth.

You nod. 

“Answer me,” he orders.

“Yes, Sir,” you respond breathily. The last word feels weighty in your mouth. 

“That’s more like it,” he clicks his tongue, “now take off all your clothes,” a commandment as he starts to circle you.

You instantly begin to untie the laces of your dress, your fingers moving shaking, excited and nervous for what is to occur. The thrill of him being so utterly authoritative is doing things you never imagined to your body.

You peel off your clothes under his heavy gaze – even your chemise. You are left in only your stockings when he stops you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hand me your stockings once you take them off,” he requests.

The heat from the roaring fire warms your naked skin as you do as asked, placing one then the other in his outstretched palm. He pulls them roughly between his hands, testing their strength.

“Excellent, this will do,” he utters and disappears behind you. “Clasp your hands behind your back.”

You do as told; then, you feel the silk of one of your stockings loop around your forearm and wrists. A thrill runs through you right to your core. He pulls it tight and makes a knot to bind it.  There’s discomfort in your arms, but somehow that heightens the throb you feel between your legs.

The hand returns to your shoulder, pushing down slightly. “Kneel,” he commands.

Oh. As you obey, you feel a trickle down your thighs, anticipation burning through you. You are right on the edge of the rug, your knees on its plush texture, but your feet are on the polished wood.

“Widen your knees,” he instructs; you feel the woolen fibers of the rug catch against your skin as you push them further apart. “Arch your back,” you do as bidden, your breasts pushed out. This position feels so lewd, so open. The air brushing against your soaked cunt, emitting a shiver from you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, one hand stroking your hair like a pet.

“If you need me to stop, tap my thighs three times,” he instructs, “because you’re not going to be able to say a word for a while.” The warning catches your breath. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” you exhale, your heartbeat speeding up as you realize what he’s about to do.

He rounds in front of you, releasing the buttons on his trousers. He takes hold of his cock, already rigid and leaking; he smears the wetness at his tip over your lips. 

“Since you seem so eager to have something in your mouth,” he darkly chuckles. “Take me in your mouth.” he states. 

You part your lips, taking a breath as he plunges in without ceremony, nudging towards the back of your mouth. You are eager to please him, to take him all the way down, you don't want him to be gentle, and he is not. The hand in your hair grips tighter as he pushes in a slow rhythm, deeper on every stroke, until he is into your throat.

As he holds you there with a firm hand, you feel silk wrap around your neck and realize he is looping your other stocking around you like a makeshift noose. He moves to hold the ends in either hand. Then he pulls on the fabric, and it keeps you locked in place on his cock, constricting your windpipe even tighter against him deep inside you. Your clit throbs and stomach clenches as your body fights for air. This feels dangerous, so heady, intoxicating. With your hands tied, you cannot control how he uses you.

He pulls his cock halfway out, slackening the material around your neck, then pushes back in with a low groan, pulling the stocking tight again so you are flush against his body, bound and choked onto his cock.

“Fuck,” he mutters darkly, a slight tremble in his legs.

He doesn’t pull out, but he loosens the noose. Wanting so much to please him, you swirl your tongue against the underside of his shaft, drool escaping your mouth and running down your chin.

“Look up at me,” he groans, “Say my name,”

You attempt to voice it, holding his gaze as your eye water, but it's just a muffled noise that vibrates against him, making him moan harder.

“God, yes, your throat was made for me to punish,” he stutters, yanking more on the stocking, winding the ends around his fists. You feel the restriction pulling you even tighter onto him. The silk is digging into your skin, your throat closing. You struggle for air, your eye beginning to cross and the feel of yourself leaking out onto the rug beneath you.

Just as you start to feel lightheaded, he pulls out, strings of saliva roping from your mouth to his glistening cock. Your stocking flutters down against your breasts as he releases it from his hands. You gasp for air, your lungs burning, your throat raspy. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” his voice is dangerous. 

After allowing you a few breaths, his hands clasp around your head, cupped over your ears, and he pushes back into your mouth. He rocks into you with deep, swift thrusts, allowing you no reprieve. The ambush on your throat caused tears to flow down your cheeks. You can only listen to the gagging, drooling sounds you make as he fucks into your throat as if it were your cunt. It’s shocking how much it turns you on; it makes you utterly mindless for him.

Your eyebrows furrow, feeling your air slowly but surely leave your lungs. Your throat was beginning burn, but the danger of possibly passing out spurred you on more. Spit dangled onto the rug and onto your naked chest. Moaning at how dirty this was.

“I know you can take me deeper than that, love” he encouraged in a stern manner. Both of his palms nudged you further, your nose pressed against his pubic hair, where his scent is so musky and all male. 

He doesn’t move for a while, keeping you there, almost testing your limits. But it doesn’t last long until he’s brutally fucking your throat again. Your vision of Aemond faded to a blur.

He was on the verge of release, you can tell y the way his cock twitches and his highs struggle to hold himself up. You hallow your cheeks, desperate for him to finish.

“Mm, fuck, like that,” he tipped his head back, stilling as his seed shot directly down my throat. You had no other choice than to gag around him constantly.

Grasping your hair, he yanked you back, and moaned pleasingly. Spit and his seed ran down your body, as you heaved on the floor, coughing loudly.

Aemond patted your head twice, giving you silent encouragement.

He tucks himself back into his trousers, shaking slightly from the aftermaths. Aemond walks away towards your shared bed. Confusion was written all over your face.

“Sir...” you began, and he turned around at the sound of your raspy voice. “What... about my release?”

The whole point of teasing him was to get him to fuck you, your cunt aching for his attention. You truly felt like you deserved to be rewarded.

Your question causes him to laugh darkly, almost as if he was shocked you asked for it at all.

“Maybe next time, darling.”

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond smut #hotd #house targaryen #hotd x reader #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #fic rec

[endless-ineffabilities]

your heart's serrated edges are much like mine own (18+)

dark!Aemond Targaryen x dark!fem!reader

synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen and his Lady wife may just be the biggest assets of the Greens. Two ruthless, determined and cunning lovers, who are crazy about each other and will stop at nothing to get what they want.

themes/warnings: violence, language, torture, f*cking, choking, it's a slightly dark romance so be warned! - strictly 18+!!!!

recommended listening: angel - massive attack // mad - echos // bottom of the deep blue sea - MISSIO // daydream in blue - I Monster

word count: 2k ▪︎ masterlist

a/n: this delicious little thing had been sitting in my drafts for far too long, so I just had the sudden urge to feed into my Aemond fantasies and finish it! Enjoy.

Aemond twists the knife in further, deeper, causing the spy's eyes to roll back in his skull.

This imbecile, this apparent whisperer, had been caught attempting to lace Queen Alicent's wine with poison. Luckily, you had been there to catch him in the act. You were quick to incapacitate the man with a blow to the head, rendering him unconscious. You never had much patience for the White Worm's lackeys, and this distaste heightened significantly after the atrocities committed by Blood and Cheese.

Aemond found you, sitting prettily in your chambers, a picture of perfect calm. As if you did not have a man gagged and unconscious by the hearth.

"What is this, my darling?" He crooned. "Having a bit of fun?"

"You will find that this is justified, my love. And you will want to take this cunt's head off yourself."

"Is that so?" He questioned, amused at his Lady wife's brazenness.

"Mhmm," you purred, pulling him closer by the lapels of his leather tunic, "I missed you today."

"Council business," His eyes rake over your figure - the only prize that makes everything worth it. "I missed you as well, as always. Come here." He jutted his chin out to you once, beckoning.

His hands wound tightly around your hips, as he kissed you. His tongue found yours, melding against each other. The kiss grew rough, teeth nearly grinding against teeth. He pushed you back onto the table, making you hold onto it with palms outstretched, as he assaulted your neck with peppered bites.

The moment was divine, up until the man regained consciousness, squealing like a wild boar upon taking in his surroundings.

"Fuck's sake," Aemond cursed at the intrusion, still keeping hands on you.

"Well, my love?" You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and dragged a finger along his sharp cheekbone, your query hanging in the air. Will you feed into your darkness with me?

"Hmm," he smirked slightly, lips pursed, "shall we amuse ourselves then, ñuha ābrar?"

My life. It tugged at your very soul when he called you that.

"Let us go play, dear husband."

Which brings us here in this damp cell, poorly lit by a few torches, with Aemond's precious knife buried deep in the thigh of the man who calls himself Bane.

Bane's skin has become so pallid and colourless. Having lost a significant amount of blood, it is only a matter of time before he fully loses consciousness. Or he might die. What difference does it make? Another used-up pawn in this fucked up war.

"Tell us what you know," Aemond growls, his voice dripping with malice, as he crouches in front of the snivelling man, "and we might just let you live." A mere embellishment, you know that Aemond would never let him live either way.

You stand behind Aemond, your left hand stained with Bane's blood. You are responsible for the first incision done on his skin, and that had been many moments ago.

Now, the man is but a husk of what he used to be, but much to your annoyance, he remains defiant, haughtily turning his cheek to you and Aemond when bombarded with questions.

Evidently, he knows more than what he is letting on. He could reveal the identities of the rest of White Worm's spies, the whole lot of them having infiltrated the castle under the guise of regular employment.

You did not know who to trust. Not truly. Except for your husband, and him alone.

"Fuck you." The man spits, blood spilling from his lips. "Fuck all of you. The Blacks are coming for all of you. All of your women and your children. Especially that traitorous cunt of a false King." He should have stopped there, but he makes a grevious error and continues, glaring right at you, "Even you, whore. You think your prince can save you? No. No. You're going to-"

Aemond's fist clashes once again with the remnants of Bane's teeth. Blood splatters on his beautiful, taut face.

The one-eyed prince, your one-eyed prince, with crimson smeared across his enraged face, and his sapphire eye exposed, would be able to strike fear in anyone's heart.

But not yours. The sight of him, unhinged, exhilirates you.

He growls, "You will never speak to my lady again. You will never even so much as glance at her, because I will gouge your eyes out. Then, I will rip you apart, and send the pieces of your mangled corpse to those Blacks whom you are so blindly loyal to."

"It seems that we have no further use for this worm, my love." You crouch beside him, gazing at him in admiration and reaching forward to push a stray strand of silver hair away from his face.

Bane freezes, realizing that he may just be speaking his final words, "I have heard talk about the pair of you... how... how absolutely fucking besotted you are with one another. And now I see why. You both are insane!"

"Oh?" You smile "If loving my Aemond renders me insane then so be it, little worm."

"Hmm," Aemond stands and pulls you with him. He then wastes no time in capturing your lips, snaking his tongue inside, wanting more. Always more of you.

You moan against him, feeling pumped with adrenaline. Reaching down to his breeches, you quickly find out that your dear husband has grown quite hard.

He bites your lip when you squeeze his length, making you groan against his mouth.

"My beautiful, beautiful, wife." He pulls back to look at you, his sapphire eye glinting in the firelight.

"Let me go!!" Bane screams again, unable to stomach what he sees, "Fucking let me go, you cunts!"

Bane continues squirming, his wrists twisting against his metal shackles. Right outside, Ser Criston Cole stands guard, although the need has never arisen before. Aemond and Lady Y/n always knew how to handle themselves. They were skilled in keeping their prey subdued.

Not many knew of the true extent of yours and Aemond's shared madness. The methods you both employ could rival that of Maegor the Cruel.

But the Blacks have forced your hand. At every turn, they have picked and plucked off important people in your lives. Without any shred of clemency.

Sure, it is a war. And it is only fair that you and Aemond would seek to retaliate.

Only you and Aemond could do things so methodical, and so wicked. Aegon does not have the stomach to do all that is necessary, even with him being King.

"Let me go, and I won't tell anyone what happened here." Bane grows desperate. "I... I swear on the Seven!"

Aemond makes a clicking sound of disapproval with his tongue, as if scolding a child. "But as it stands, Bane, we have no reason to trust you."

When Aemond carves Bane's eyes out, he screams his throat bloody, the grating sound echoing mercilessly in the darkness of night.

Until all is quiet, save for the sound of hungry lips devouring each other. Until the final blade has been pushed into Bane's heart, and you and Aemond - two lovers soaked in blood - practically attempt to carve a piece out of each other, with groping hands, biting kisses, his manhood pressed against your covered core.

Tempting, torturing, trembling.

"I need you," he whispers. "I need you now. And forever."

"Then have me."

You blindly find your way through your chambers, only focused on each other. Hurriedly taking off every piece of clothing, every damned hindrance, until skin only meets skin.

Finally, you are both uncovered. You take a few steps back until your ass meets the cold surface of the wooden desk, upon which you sit on the edge haphazardly.

Leaning back, and spreading your legs, every inch of you is bared for Aemond. The lips of your cunt drip with liquid pleasure, aching for only what he can give you.

"Mm." A hundred years could pass of just this, a thousand, forever, and Aemond would never tire of the sight in front of him. His lady, his love, offering herself up to him for the taking.

He takes his time in walking towards you, savouring the sight, as you do him. Your eyes are near pitch-black with desire as you drink him in, the sharp planes of his figure, his endless silver hair, his sapphire eye.

And his long, girthy cock glistening translucent-white at the end. You bite your lip, and whine, "Hurry now, Aemond."

He laughs deeply as he finally reaches you. He licks a stripe on your chest and your collarbones, cleaning off dried streaks of blood. When he kisses you, his tongue tastes of rust. Of the man whose life you just ended.

"Your skin tastes divine," he purrs, as his cock grazes the edges of your folds. He grips your back with one hand, urging you closer, steadying you, and his nails dig into your flesh in their intensity.

"Do not torture me, husband." You plea, for fear that you might explode, and you just might push him down to the floor and ride him until dawn.

He laughs again, almost tauntingly, "Why, dear wife, what is it that you want?" He whispers close to your ear, "Do you wish for me to fuck you? Do you want my cock inside you, my lady?"

You grip his hips and urge him forward until his cock breaches your entrance, only just.

"What the fuck do you think I want?" you growl at your husband. "Fuck me."

"As my lady commands." And with that, and no other word of warning, he enters you to the hilt, the sting of his size only a slight tinge compared to the maddening pleasure.

"Is this what you want?" His voice is deeper now, thick with need. He leans over you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, his pelvis moving relentlessly. His thrusts quickly grew sloppy and unhinged. His palms brace themselves on your back, as he lowers and takes a nipple between his teeth.

"Agh!" You squeal, and he sucks your breast soothingly. "Don't stop."

He buries his face in your neck, breathing you in. He slows the assault of his length inside your increasingly sore pussy. But the thrusts remain deep, his balls slapping wet against your ass each time.

"Can I... shall I...?" He pants, knowing you will understand.

You stare at your lover. Your dark, breathtaking other half. You respond, without a doubt, excitement taking a hold of you. "Yes. Do it, my love."

He seems a tad apprehensive, but equally wanting, so you guide his hand to your neck, gingerly splaying his fingers on your skin.

"Do it," you repeat.

"I love you," he swears, his fingers beginning to tighten, his cock burying deep inside your dripping cunt again and again. "I love you forever."

You feel the familiar pressure on your windpipe. Bearable, with only the mildest hint of discomfort. Aemond would never dare hurt you badly. This serves to spur you on even more, and you grip his forearm.

You tighten your legs around his torso, and use your heels to help propel him forward. Deeper, if that were even possible.

"Harder," you say. "Fuck me, Aemond."

He moans, his lips pulling back from his teeth, eyes glazed over as he looks down upon his love. His hand clenches your neck even tighter, and you welcome it, feeling lightheaded.

"I love you," you gasp with utmost sincerity.

Two deranged lovers, glistening with sweat and cum. Deep maroon patches of dried blood from an hour before, melting on their skin. Writhing, squirming, whimpering against each other as moonlight filters through the sheer forest green curtains.

With strangled cries, they spasm into each other near simultaneously. Prince Aemond Targaryen collapses on top of his wife in bliss. He looks up at her and finds her in the same state.

He rights himself, reaching to the faint impressions of his fingers on her neck. "Are you alright, my love?"

"Am I alright?" She grins, then plants a soft kiss on his lips. "Shall we go again?"

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader

[helaelaemond]

Pulling Apart - Aemond x Reader

Pairing:  Aemond x f!reader

Word count: 874

Summary: The Dance of the Dragons has begun, and it is dragging your lover away from you. You have little fight left in you, and try to make him stay one last time.

Content warning(s): elements of dubcon, Aemond can't get hard, angst, no happy ending

INCLUDES: oral (m receiving)

Rating: E

"Stay."

"No."

"Stay."

Aemond's lip twitches. He looks at you with a hard stare, and you do your best not to flinch under it. "My brother awaits me."

"It is the middle of the night. All the king awaits is a whore from Flea Bottom and a barrel of red."

"Don't." His voice is quiet. There is a threat in it.

"I want you to stay."

"What you want is of no consequence."

You grab his arm as he turns away. "It is of every consequence!"

"Why?" he asks coldly, ripping away from you. "Who are you to the realm?"

"I am the woman you love."

He is quiet for a moment. His one good eye bores into yours until you feel your soul utterly bared to him. "I do not deny that. But..."

"But what?" It's impossible to hide the desperation from your voice.

"But it is not enough."

"Aemond, please-"

Long strides take him across his chamber towards the door, and you follow with heavy steps, the cold of the flagstone floor making your feet feel numb. It's warm in the room, but your body has turned to ice. In front of the door, you drop to your knees. "Please," you beg. Taking his hands into yours, you look up at him with shining eyes. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?" His lips are so tight that the words barely come out.

"Of losing you. We are falling apart, you and I, and it frightens me."

"There is a war out there, I cannot simply-"

"There is a war in here, too!" And you pull his hand over your heart. Why can he not understand? "There is a darkness in you that you will not allow me to shine a light on any longer. You're pulling away from me to a precipice from which you may not return."

He tries to pull away but your hands go to his hips.

"Stay," you tell him again. Your hands go to the laces on the front of his breeches.

"No." He pushes you away gently.

"Stay."

He is stronger than you, and faster, and he could leave if he wanted, he really could. That's what you tell yourself when you sink your hand into the warmth of his trousers. The soft hair there tickles your skin and you whimper as your fingers trace his base.

"Please," you beg more softly this time. "Don't leave me alone. Do not go where I cannot follow."

"I will return once the war is won," he replies, his voice low and tense. In his thighs, muscles twitch and move to hold himself upright more firmly. One hand goes into your hair. It's unclear whether he wants to push you away or pull you closer.

It doesn't matter. You pull his soft cock free and stroke it in your hand and rest your forehead against his groin - he groans softly when you press his head against your cheek. Closing your eyes to concentrate on the feeling of him alone, you pull back his tender foreskin and run the pad of your thumb over his slit.

He used to be hard for you at just a glance.

But it's been weeks.

"Aemond," you whisper. "I'm losing you."

He makes no reply. He stands as still as stone. Turning your face, you lick a line up his cock and take his tip into your mouth. The salt of his skin makes you whine softly. Taking him deeper, tears prick your eyes. Please, you think, come back to me.

Long fingers scratch across your scalp. "Stop," he commands.

You take him deeper until he touches the back of your throat. It makes you gag, and when he pushes you off him, you let out a cry of despair. Back on your heels you sit. What now?

"Aemond," you weep. "I'm lost without you."

Your lover, tall and proud and nothing more than a frightened boy, looks down at you. His expression is unreadable. "That is of no consequence."

"You are lost without me."

The pretty bow of his lips curls as if he is going to reply. It is torture when he does not. All he gives you is a hum. And then he tucks himself back into his breeches, and tugs his jacket into place again while you drag yourself back to your feet.

"This is it, Aemond," you tell him shakily. "I cannot fight any longer when you have no intent in fighting for me in return."

He watches you with severity in his pretty face.

"I mean it. You leave now, and you will never see me again."

'Hmm."

And for a fleeting moment, there is a glimmer of hope. He pulls you to him suddenly, and runs his nose up your jaw and into your hair. "Lavender," he breathes into your ear. "It will always make me think of you."

"Aemond."

His arms envelop you in warmth, and you are home. You turn your head to meet his kiss, and it is searing. It leaves you both breathless. When he says your name, you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Stay," you say one last time.

By the time you open your arms, he is gone. The cold returns.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond x female reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #mine

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I have these two great friends called Birth and Control.❞

part 06 | it's called a love bug, lovebug

chapter summary:

[ Sunday dinners are actually made for confessions. As Alicent braves it with a wine and a blush, you brave it too. With a boy and a view. ]

[ 2,963 ] [ series masterlist ] |best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— angst - hurt/minimal comfort(?) - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— alexa play it's all coming back to me now by celine dion. it might read a little stilted, i struggled a bit with this chapter as i wrote it in different times. ps. i didn't translate aemond's valyrian with intention. hope it still works? comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You had never heard of a more reverbrating sound than Helaena's smack to a poor, traumatised Daeron. "You toe licking, armpit looking, ugly garbage can!" Healeana shrieked, promptly dragging her youngest brother further away as you and Aemond scurried deeper into the safety of the darkness and shame, folded defensively onto one another, laughing your asses off.

"Oh my god," you exhale. "I am never going leaving this maze. I am going to live here, eating brambles and shit, and die here. Leave me now and prevail, Aemond. I will be fine. I'll haunt you in two to three business days."

Aemond chuckles from below you, unseen from your gaze, the mesmerised adoration he held as he can still feel his lips tingling from your desperation, still feel the curves of your body, the soft skin— he clears his throat, holding you steady by your hips before moving around until he's hovering over you as you adjusted your dress, eyes fluttering his with pressed lips trying not to laugh.

"I have a feeling dinner is ready."

"I also have a feeling your mother and grandfather knew exactly what we were doing minutes before and I fear I'd rather die here than face that."

He laughs, offering his hand and you take it regardless. "Then my mother would be glad. She didn't exactly feel the new bliss of couples between us."

You scoff. "Only because you treated me like you were cosplaying a Frost Giant." At his raised eyebrow and choked, surprised laugh, you blush. "Oh, get off with it. Your sister really likes the idea of Jotun!Loki and I am not one to kinkshame."

He strangles a laugh, peeling stray twigs from your hair. "I wouldn't dare assume. Let's go eat."

You tighten your hold on his hand, worry crescent on your forehead that Aemond straightens. "And talk?" As good as that felt, as perfect as puzzles sliding in together, you were past the age where burrowing it deep with the good parts and ignoring the pressing talks that need to be addressed.

And Aemond deserved better than that at least.

"Okay." He nods, swallowing. "Later, please."

"Okay." You try and reassure him with a smile and that seems to appease him, if a little.

Once Aegon had made five jokes concerning Daeron's loud rant— he was promptly shut up by his sister smacking him in the back of the head as soon as their mother was fretting in the kitchen and their grandfather's phone pinging for his attention, spoon on his mouth that might have been a medical nightmare — dinner went smoothly.

Daeron had successfully refused to look at your general direction, or his brother, or both since you sat together, churlish in giggles, in chatter and light arguments. Aemond kept taking the nicely marinated baby potatoes on his plate to yours once you finished up your own, and exchanged it with shuffling green beans to his plate because he loves them— it's nice.

It's more than nice. It's everything you could hope for when you think about dinner with your boyfriend's family. It's a softened thought that brews to yearning. You want this. You want be sat next to Aemond like this again, making jokes, piling food onto each other's plate, ribbing with his brother until he blushed then standing up against him when it got too far— seeing the smile he sends your way, endearing, loving, and for a moment, for this one realised moment built on lies and chuckle-fuckery ease, you let yourself indulge.

You joke about spoon feeding him dessert and blush as he envelops his soft lips over the spoon, Daeron and Aegon mimicking gags while Alicent is blushing, unable to stop a girlish giggle, a sound so surprised to her own person that she hiccups.

You are with him and you give yourself strength to break his heart.

Dinner finishes off with a lazy flick, Alicent and his father descending into business talks that usually included Aemond and though you tell him you can go hang out with Helaena— Daeron and Aegon deciding on playing The Last of Us in the game room because Aegon said he needed a good cry but also to shoot things — Aemond who had taken your hand sometime ago and has been brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing gesture, implores you with a look.

You swallow and give a nod, trying for another smile that fails, noticing the moment Aemond sees it fail, his brow curling, lips pursing but doesn't say anything.

As he moves to lead, he pauses, turning back to you. "Where—?"

"Your room?"

Just as he nods, Alicent's soft and embarrassed, "Keep the door open, please," pulls you both to a blushing stop.

Otto— and Helaena rifling through ice cream in the kitchen — crow simultaneous, "Alicent," and "Mom!" as Alicent raises both her hands, the wine in her right sloshing. Though she is pink-cheeked, she maintains eye contact with her son while Aemond is struggling.

"I know you're old and smart enough, young man, and you are such a lovely girl," Alicent says to you, "and I would no doubt adore the grandchildren you will provide me—"

"Oh my gods," you stifle your giggles as Aemond makes a discordant sound in the back of his throat, like a cat hacking a saw. Otto is laughing into his wine while Helaena is making gagging noises in the background.

"— but I hope to have them when Aemond's at least graduated, so that he can provide well for you." Alicent nods, blinking. You can tell that the wine is catching up to her. "He's a good boy so I'm sure he'll do right by you. But I at least want you both to be married, of course, I would prefer if Aegon or Helaena got married first but—"

"— and that's my cue to stage left, folks," Helaena says, making a face as she grabs the entire tub of cookies and cream. "If anyone needs me, I'm in my room trying to find a husband so my baby brother can get married, gods forbid he carries on with bastards from his beautiful girlfriend— whomst, by the way, is my best friend, dunno how we're forgetting my credit in all of this."

Aemond shakes his head. "They're not sleeping here, mom, and providing you grandchildren is not in my agenda." He tugs your hand, smirking as he pulls you close only to whisper playfully, "Not tonight at least."

You shiver, laughing under your breath. "I dunno if you know this, but I have these two great friends called Birth and Control."

He breaks into a laugh and that, at least, eases the tension until you round up in his room, trying to give Helaena a meaningful look but you don't think she understands it with how she salutes you with her spoon, winking audaciously.

"Here." Aemond flicks the light on and his childhood bedroom brings a smile to your face. It's cerebral, the faint blue of his textured wallpaper, the perfectly lined books, even the framed achievements. But there's also the Oasis poster, the little figurines that you know is part of some Old Valyrian battle replica he collected when he was younger, even his old fencing gear and an exact photo of it alongside his club master, his grandfather, and family friend, Criston Cole.

"It's been a while since I've been here," you tease lightly. "It's kind of funny of your mom to think I'd be the first hot girl to christen your childhood bed."

He hums, turning away as he closes the door. When he turns back, he's rolled back his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at you with sincerity.

"It wouldn't be much of a competition to beat. You were the first hot girl I'd ever got inside my room."

"Ahh. Right. Teasing you before your growth spurt was the highlight of my week."

Aemond let out an aggressive sigh as you laugh. "I was a senior in high school when I met you, riña, this is getting ridiculous. Borderline paedophilic since I had you moaning an hour ago."

You heave, slapping his arm. "Okay, stop, you made it weird now. Gross. Eugh."

"Promise you'll stop now?"

"Fine, I promise."

An awkwardness settles before Aemond nods at the double French doors. "Wanna talk on the patio? You've always liked my room's view than Lae's."

"Yeah," you grin.  "'Cos you got the only view of the lake."

"You can barely see it with the trees. And this darkness." Reason out all he wants, but he opens the door for you, and the cool air is crisp and nice against your warm skin.

You hold out on the ledge, squinting your eyes so you can see peeks of luminous bounce of the calm lake between dark sways of forest. Once in a while, it glitters and glimmers, making itself known.

"It isn't fully true though."

"What is?" Aemond fixes his elbows, warmth pressed against yours as he stares at a fixed point of nowhere. But you can feel his tension, feel his questions he's trying to be patient to keep in. You're glad for it. Grateful. Because it gives you enough courage to confess.

"I hung out in your room because I liked hanging out with you," you admit. "Teasing you was the highlight of my day."

"Gee. Thanks."

"I was more surprised you kept letting me hang out with you when I did nothing but annoy you."

"Why do you think that is, ñuha riña?" he asks softly.

"Because you're sweet?"

The way he's looking at you... it makes you breatheless. Especially when he moves to turn fully toward you, taking you by your elbows, and you close your eyes when he leans in expecting his mouth on you, your heart dancing in the palm of his hand because it feels so, so easy to trust Aemond with it, instead he presses his lips underneath your eye, nuzzling against your nose. It shatters and remakes your heart, making you hold onto his shirt for some semblance of comfort.

"Because I've always liked you," he whispers against your skin as if it's his best kept secret. "Because I'm weak when it comes to you. Because you," he breathes against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug, "make it easy to want you."

A weak laugh escapes your lips and his mouth follows the sound as if he wants to swallow it, but you press a palm to his chest. He growls.

"Easy there, tiger, that didn't sound much like a compliment."

He pulls back, holding your face. "Sorry, shit, I didn't mean— I'm not good at this. I meant... you're unattainable. Not just as Helaena's best friend but... you're cool, you're fucking gorgeous and incredibly hilarious."

"Ñuha jorrāelagon." He breathes care into the word. The word is lost on me and I force my brain to pocket it like a love letter so I can search it up. "I never thought I could be here, touching you like this." Without warning, he moulds his lips to yours in a harsh, deep kiss. It's quick but it leaves you breathless, his voice coming up ragged. "Kiss you like this. It feels like I'm in a dream and I'm struggling to let go of it. So a while ago... after..."

You nod, pressing your forehead against his, unable to look at him in the eye. You focus on touching him, your hands sliding down, making him shiver when you go underneath his shirt, skating his side until you warm your cool fingers with his spine.

"That's the thing, Aemy," you whisper. "In your head, by your words, I'm always a version to you."

 He calls your name, leaning back and you're forced to see the confusion on his face.

"Helaena's best friend. Past that, an unattainable crush. Now a fake girlfriend. Someone you use to get Alys' attention, and who better than the unattainable crush? It's a pedestal, Aemy."

"It's not like that, that was a bad, convoluted—"

"But it's the truth, it's how I feel. And though that sucks, I understand." You take his hands as you step back and he's frowning harder, the lines deepen and his jaw is tight. "I knew what I was getting into, you know? But things change because I've changed."

 "It's Cregan, isn't it?" he snarls, tugging his hands away.

"Oh, you jealous idiot, it's you! We've gone over this, you incredible dumbass!"

"Me? How the hell is this about—"

"— because I love you!" you shout. Then stop, inhale. Blink. Aemond copies it. It's almost hilarious. "Or I know I can be."

He works his jaw, turning away. "I don't understand."

"Okay, here it is." You inhale. "Just listen and breathe for a second, okay? Okay? Don't turn away from me." You pull him back by his chin, smiling faintly at the pout you form. "Say you understand."

He sighs, taking your hand. "Yes, I understand."

"I can't compete with someone you've loved for so long," you start softly, staring at your conjoined hands wondering if this is the last time you'll get to hold him like this. "Without you showing you can love me for more than that. I can't compete with your own ideal happy ending if I'm not part of it. I won't. I refuse." Your smile is wry, it's heartbreak and it's strings. You wish you had the energy to scream, to act like a brat and demand his heart, his promises in gold-ink and pink-veined hue. It's what your heart wants.

But you're of big age. You've seen love in its spaces, how it takes root in people, how it affects the world around you.

And you know you cannot love him if he does not make the effort to love you in the same way.

Your heart is in your throat but the words come out anyway. "Because I love you, Aemy. And I know I can fight for you. I can fight for what we have. I can wake up tomorrow and choose to love you with the same degree, if not fiercer, if I could. And I could do that again and again. That's how love works. You have to wake up tomorrow, see me, and choose to love me all over again."

You smile gently, sadly. "I can't allow myself to be loved in halves. I've done that before, I'm not doing it again. Not even for you."

You bring yourself on your tip toes— damn tall, beautiful rat bastard — and brush your lips on the corner of his. His eye closed. "I'm not going to pressure you for an answer. Alys was... Alys is a big part of what you know is love, and I respect that. I understand that it'll be hard, but I need to know if you're willing to let go of it for me. Because I can promise you I can love you. But I won't. Not without assurance that you can try for me."

"What are you asking me?" he asks softly, straightening. There's a hard line going into his body, like a dutiful student given an assignment.

"I'm asking you to think if you can see past the little statue you've made of me. See me breathing. Alive, just like this." You press a hand to his face and retrieve it back before he can hold it. He shots you a look of betrayal. "I'm going home with Hel. You know how to message me, okay? Bye, dōna zaldrīzes."sweet dragon.

His eye flick upward, shock and heartbreak and confusion moulds and twists into such a beautiful blue, mouth agape trying to find words he can't find— and you smile wryly, turning away and leaving.

You get to Helaena's door quick, knocking soon after.

"Hmph!"

 "You're either getting choked by a robber or masturbating, and really Hel, I need you to make two grunts to tell me the former so I can bust down the door because I don't want to see you bust a—"

The door swings wide, Helaena's face in a comical irritation.

"That is so fucked up, I hope you know— hey, hey." Her irritation sweeps into a frown as you fail to contain your watery eyes. "What happened? What's wrong? What did Aemond do? Oh, that little twerp—"

"— it's not him, it's not him, chill, I just wanna go home, yeah? Get our cakes and go, please?"

Hel's frown deepens, eyes darting back to Aemond's door.

"Please, Helaena," you beg. "I'll tell you when we get home. I'll make us special drinks."

She takes your hand, determination wound tight with concern. "Sure thing, babe. Let's go."

When you make your hasty departure to her grandfather of all of them, Alicent already in bed and the other boys still in the gaming room, cakes in hand, you tow over Helaena's baby blue buggy— she leans over at you with a hand on the ignition, whispering as if she was afraid, "You— are you meeting Cregan tonight? After, I mean." Her eyes widen. "I'm not judging, I'd never—"

"No, no, I understand. You'd never judge me for that, I know. But no. Just you and me tonight."

She smiles softly. It's not like Aemond's but they don't look that apart that it still stings. "Love you."

"Love you too, lovebug."

Loving Helaena isn't hard.

Just as you know loving Aemond wouldn't be, despite it all. But it isn't you that has issues that needs handling, and you've put everything in his court now.

And yet you can't deny your hope.

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdgodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantastyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin @backyardfolklore @random-ocity @hc-geralt-23 @vendettasblog @cicaspair418 @malynn @anehkael @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm @honey132

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond angst #aemond fluff #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒 #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n

[blakeswritingimagines]

Thriller *SMUT*

Summary: Going to a Halloween party with Aemond seemed like fun, until he scares the pants off of you.

Word count: 3.1k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You walked through the loud Halloween party, admiring all the costumes. The cup you held in your hand was empty, so you made your way into the kitchen to refill it. While walking past different people in a dark hallway, you felt someone's hand on your arm, dragging you into a room. As you were about to let out a loud scream, the hand landed on your mouth. You lifted up your gaze and saw that the face of the guy holding you against the wall was covered by a white, Ghost face mask. You froze, and your eyes widened with surprise. After what felt like an eternity, you managed to mumble something in your muffled voice. "Who… who are you?" Your heart beats so fast, your arms and legs trembling. You tried to get free, but the guy who still held you against the wall only tightened his grip. You felt something sharp against the neck. He leaned closer to your throat and whispered softly. "Look at such a pretty baby."

Your heart raced as you looked back at the mask, and as he removed his hand from your mouth he whispered. "Shhh… be quiet, for it is me, your Romeo." His voice made you realize who it was, as the mask was pulled up a little bit his lips slowly revealed a white-toothed smile. "Are you scared, darling?" He chuckled, as he let his hands slowly roam around your body. You couldn't help a gasp that slipped past your lips out of embarrassment. Fear, mixed with your feelings for him. The heat of his hands and the smell of his scent lingering on your body made your heart flutter in your ribs. You try to free one of your hands from his grip and place it on his face, to remove that stupid mask for the first time. But he quickly caught it and stopped your act. You were flustered. You looked up at his Ghost face, but the man with a white mask didn’t seem as frightening anymore. Your heart pounded in your chest, your chest felt heavy and your breathing got shallow. "Aemond. Please. I… need to see you…" You whispered, in a soft voice. "Did you miss me, my little one? I sure missed you." He pushed your back into the wall harder, as his grin got wider on his face. "Such a bad girl needs a proper scolding… and that's a lesson I am willing to give her," he mumbled. "Don't be annoyed, darling." He leaned towards your ear whispering in it. "I know you want all this."

You leaned your head back against the wall as you listened to him, biting down on your lower lip feeling his excitement growing, tightly gripping his clothes before you threw your arms over his shoulders. You looked at the eyes of the mask he still wore as you slowly nodded your head at his words as your breathing picked up "Please." "Please?" He chuckled as his voice got deeper. "My darling, you know I don't handle orders." He moved his left hand and held your chin, forcing you to look up at him as his grip tightened. "Look at me, look me in the eyes. Now say please again… louder… and better." Leaning towards your ear again, his voice got lower. "And do it quickly, before I can't handle my needs any longer." As he pinned you against the wall with one of his arms, he removed the mask, revealing his handsome face. "You do know I can't breathe with that thing on," He smirked as he started unbuttoning his shirt. "I know what you want… it seems you have gotten addicted to me, is that right?"

A deep moan escaped past your lips when you saw his familiar face under that Ghost mask, revealing his messy blonde hair. You gulped, looking at him nervously. As much as you wanted him, you couldn’t bring yourself to say what he wanted you to say. But when you saw him undoing his shirt’s buttons, you felt your body getting hot and your heart pounded even faster. Your eyes widened and you looked at him, nodding your head slightly. You already had no words in your head, you tried to speak but your mouth was dry, so you nodded dumbly to his question, looking at his half-exposed chest. "Yes? Is that all you can say?" He chuckled, taking his time to make you beg even more. "I want to hear you want me." Letting his left hand roam freely around your body, teasing your skin. He whispered next to your mouth. "I want you to moan, and ask me for more. I want you to make me want you even more." He added as he pulled both your hands toward his shoulders, wrapping them around it. "Or are you ashamed? Do you feel dirty? It's alright, my little one. Your secret is safe with me." He took a piece of your hair and brushed it behind your ear. "As it seems, both our secrets are safe with the other," he smirked.

"Now, would you like your Romeo to do what Romeo wants to do with you, my sweet one?" His voice got raspy as he started to breathe heavily. "Or should Romeo take what Romeo wants, no matter what a sweet, but slightly naughty girl wants?" He raised his right eyebrow with a sly smile on his face, waiting for you to give in to his needs. "Y-Yes, Gods, please I want you." Your voice was a bit higher than usual, as you were too ashamed to actually talk and look into his lovely eyes. He slowly pulled you closer to him, as you bit your lower lip. As he spoke with his deep voice, you felt an urge to bite his neck gently wanting to mark his pale skin. Your eyes were shut, as your hair was tossed over your shoulders while Aemond’s hands roamed over your body. You let out a shudder and breathed hard, feeling the cold wall against your back and listening to Aemond's provocative words. You looked up at his handsome face, which had been the inspiration for so many of your childhood fantasies. The way he touched your skin is like poetry in motion, and the way he talked to you sent shivers down your spine. You felt completely lost in the moment, and all you could think about was what to do next. "I want you…" You whispered in his ear. Your voice attempted to come out calm but you couldn't hide the tremble in it.

"Good girl for saying it. Now say it again." His voice came out with a growl as he pulled you close before laying you on the mattress. He needed to have you. "I want to taste you, my sweet one." He started to move his hand slowly towards your throat, where his thumb pressed against your jugular as his fingers squeezed against you. "Can I taste you?" He asked again, looking you in the eyes with his deep lavender stare, a slight smirk on his lips. "Yes." Your eyes widened, as you imagined the different ways he touched you and bite your skin. "Yes…but please be gentle…" You let the words out in a hushed whisper. You tried to focus on him. The way he looked you in the eyes, the way he speaks to you, everything about him is making you crazy. "Y-Yes." You whispered again, feeling the tingles all over your body from his touch. Your heart pounded harder, your breathing got shallower. You felt a little bit scared that just anyone could walk in. You felt like this was more than just a game. "You can taste me all you want." In those words sounded a slight desperation.

"And I will, my sweet one." His hands moved back to your chin, and he caressed your face. "You look just as beautiful as you have in any of the many fantasies I've had. No matter what happens, just keep your eyes on mine okay?" He leaned towards your earlobe, his lips kissing it. "My darling… my love… my sweet, sweet one…" the tip of his tongue touched the shell of your ear slowly. "I want to taste you everywhere, my sweet one," he growled. "I want to feel my hands on every inch of your skin. I want you to feel how much I want you." His body pressed closer to yours grinding his hard cock against you then leaned down to your neck closer attaching his mouth to your skin. "Let me show you," he whispered and kissed your throat. His fingers went back up to your throat, and he started to suckle against your jugular. As Aemond's lips touch the skin on your neck, your head tilts back, and close your eyes. Your whole body started to shake and your muscles tensed. Every little touch of his lips and the way he talked to you made your entire being tremble. Even though you were trying to resist it, you felt like you were losing control of the situation. You felt your heart pound with an unusual rhythm like there was no tomorrow. Your breathing felt short and quick. Your hands moved to Aemond’s chest, squeezing it in return. Your eyes closed as a shuddering feeling moved across your whole body upon feeling his lips and tongue on your skin. There was something about what he was doing to you that made you feel so many emotions. And you just couldn’t stop it. You wanted him to continue. Your breathing got shallower. The sound of a moan could have been heard between your lips.

"Oh, my sweet one." He took your chin in his hands and kissed you slowly again. Enjoying how it felt to have you in such a raw way "Do you want to know something? I don't know if there are gods watching over us in these walls." He grinned, as he moved his head down to your chest. "But if there are, then I would be sure that there is a special place in the heavens for you… and me." He looked into your eyes. "I want to taste you wherever I want to taste you." With his mouth still on your neck he moved his finger slowly to your lips, whispering into her ear. "Do you like this? Do you enjoy your prince's lips on your sweet neck?" He smirked as he moved lower down your body, and started to drag his lips down your stomach to your thighs as his hands held onto your thighs keeping them open, making your skin shake from the cold air. "Let me taste you, my sweet one," he said, as he started to kiss your thighs again teasing you.

Your head tilted to the side as Aemond started to kiss your neck, and you could not contain your own moans. The feeling of his hands against your waist and thighs, and the way he made your whole body shake from the cold air made you feel something you never felt with anyone in your life. And your heart was beating like crazy. "Yes, Aemond." You moaned when he started to kiss and lick your warm wet cunt. Your legs started to go weak, and you started to arch your back off the bed, in such a way that you could almost feel every muscle of Aemond’s body against yours. A moan was quietly heard from your lips as Aemond kissed, bit, and touched every inch of your thighs and pussy. The whole scene felt like it was a dream, but a dream too delightful to be true, and you just wanted it to continue forever. Another moan escaped your lips, as your skin got sensitive with every movement of Aemond’s fingers easing into your tight walls curling them as he felt you tighten around his long digits.

As your head started to tilt forward and he could feel a shake in your legs, he pulled you closer to him as all the air in his lungs was used up to quicken the pace of his tongue before moving slowly and gently. "My sweet one." He continued to lick, nibble, and kiss your thighs making sure to leave his mark. “I’m going to cum.” You whimpered, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Aemond hummed against you and continued eating you out, his tongue rubbing your sensitive clit in the best ways possible until you were letting out high-pitched moans as you came. Aemond continued running his tongue up and down your wet slit throughout your orgasm, lapping away at your release that leaked out. You let out a small content sigh as you slowly began letting yourself relax, and it didn’t take long for Aemond to gently pick up your legs down from his shoulders and lick the area around his mouth clean. He gripped tight around your thighs holding them open as he pulled you as his fingers massaged your soft skin. "You have no idea how much I crave you." His lips started to get desperate in the way he kissed up your body, as the sound of your moans got even louder. "Are you ready for me, my sweet one?" He whispered, moving his mouth to your face. "Or should I continue with what I am doing right now?" He smiled, as he kept on teasing you with his fingers, moving closer and closer to the spot it seemed only he could reach inside of you.

Your eyes opened and met Aemond’s eyes for a moment before you let your head fall back onto the bed again. Your body felt hot, and your heart pounded strongly and fast. "Do it, Aemond." You whispered. You were almost begging for it, and your heart felt like it was ready to jump out of your chest. Your whole body was shaking from the tingles and sensation Aemond’s touch gave you. Your body was feeling flushed with heat and mumbled under your breath "Take me… You can have me Please. " You put your hand on Aemond’s neck, holding it there. Your breathing got deeper. He grabbed you by the waist and leaned in closer. With his right hand, he softly grabbed your breast as his left hand reached around the back of your neck. He looked into your eyes. He smiled, he leaned in. Aemond's breath was short as if his heart was skipping a beat. Your voice called to him, your touch almost driving him mad. At that moment, you seemed not to be his cute little princess but a woman in need of a man's touch. His hand came up to your neck, holding it gently as his thumb caressed your skin. "This was the moment I was waiting for." You thought. You sighed with pleasure and moaned louder as Aemond caressed your curves and pulled at your hair as if wanting to take you there forever. The more he touched you, the better you felt. Slowly, you raised yourself on your arms and began kissing his neck, leaving soft, sweet kisses. You couldn't wait any longer you wanted him badly and you wanted him now.

Everything was building up to this moment. Aemond could feel the heat rising in him, this was the most extraordinary lovemaking he had ever participated in. You could practically feel the love and affection dripping from his every touch. Aemond smiled to himself as you began to kiss him on his neck, Aemond's fingers traced your curves as he kissed you back, your skin as smooth as silk. Aemond felt the moment had to be perfect. He wanted this to be a night that you would never forget. His breath was labored, his heart racing in his chest as his desire for you grew. You felt like fire, every touch driving him a little mad with the heat. He didn't want to wait anymore, he needed to take you now. Aemond slowly pumped his cock a few times before sliding into your warm pussy with a groan. Aemond's hands slowly began to travel down your body, moving to your hips as he felt you tighten around his dick giving you a moment to adjust to his size. The anticipation alone was enough to drive him to madness. Aemond's kisses down your neck turned from soft to hungry in moments. Your eyes closed as his lips trailed down to her neck, marking your sweaty skin as he went along. With each kiss he gave you, you could feel your heart beating faster and faster, he was making you weak and you could barely keep your eyes open. A deep moan escaped your lips as he gripped your body like nothing else mattered and you felt as if you were melting beneath him, letting your nails dig into his back with a moan of his name, as if your whole world had transformed into just his touch alone. You moaned out loud and felt your body tensing as his hands touched you again, but this time with more boldness. You could feel that he was getting impatient, that he wanted you just as badly. However, he was so tender, that it almost felt like it was the first time he was having sex with you. Your breathing became more shallow and you let out a soft groan of pleasure while your eyes stayed locked on his.

Aemond's body went tense. He couldn't believe that this was happening again, it felt just like a dream coming true. He was ready to make this the greatest love you had ever felt. Every touch and every movement of the hands felt like fire and thunder, he wanted to make this feel like the greatest night of your life. Aemond's passion grew with every caress and kiss, his heart beating out of his chest. You had no idea how much he loved you and this moment felt perfect. Aemond moaned as he thrusted into you with a quickened pace. He kissed you passionately as he did this, his heart racing with the intensity of the moment. Aemond was losing himself in this experience, wanting more and more. He wanted you and only you tonight. The both of you shared a love for the ages. Aemond never wanted your love to leave him again, he was yours forever and you were his. No one could change that. When he felt you squirm, all of his instincts kicked in. He knew when to slow down and when to give you his all. Aemond didn't want to last a few minutes with you, he wanted this to be a long night for both of you. He kissed you deeply as his hips slammed against yours, his body moving in the motions you both had come to know so well. His moan was loud as he kept loving you. He wanted it to last the rest of his life, this exact moment.

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut

[huramuna]

beware the sapphire peak - chapter 3, end.

aemond targaryen x wife reader x alys rivers a period piece, set in 1902.

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wordcount: 3.7k

you're a young, american lady who is an aspiring author. you are wooed by a mysterious and charming savant from england. swept off your feet, you're whisked away to his family's ancient estate, Dragonstone Hall. but with all stories, secrets are hiding around every corner, and your suitor is no different.a crimson peak inspired mini series.

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!i don't do taglists right now, so sorry!

content: smut (specifics below cut), angst, gaslighting, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, alys in her girlboss gatekeep gaslight era, no use of y/n, afab reader, pre-established alysmond, this isn't going where you think it is (it might be), infidelity-ish, polyamory, mentions of infertility, murder, depictions of murder/violence, pregnancy

moonlight sonata - beethoven • nocturne in e-flat major, op. 9, no. 2 - chopin

warnings: p in v, face sitting, come eating i guess!, breeding kink

So sweet– she had tasted so sweet to you, like the most saccharine, tooth rotting, sugary treat you’d ever had. A taste that you could get lost in for eons, grasping at the surface that threatened to pull you under, deeper, deeper… until darkness consumed you– and you could only taste her. 

Alys murmured something to you as your mind went fuzzy with panic. What would Aemond think? What would happen now? Would he divorce you? Would he fire Alys? 

Your hands shook slightly, a tingling and eventual numbing feeling coming to your lips, spreading throughout your extremities. Everything was in slow motion, the vision of Alys blurred through tears. “A-Alys,” you croaked. “I-I don’t know what just happened— I-I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, don’t cry, my sweet puppy,” she cooed, upon you again, her scent all consuming and overwhelming and you wanted to kiss her again. “It’s natural.”

“N-Natural?” you whimpered, eyes still misty.

“Yes,” Alys breathed, petting your head. “You know, male lions usually have a few lionesses in their pride— and the lionesses are known to take great affections with each other, too. ‘Tis only natural, to seek the comforts of ones who comfort you.” 

You sniffed, not really understanding what she was saying. The numbness was spreading, your head spinning and feeling like a hive of bees had taken host in your cranium. “I-I don’t… I don’t feel well…” you managed to whisper, clinging to the older woman as you lost feeling in your limbs, an acute pins-and-needles type pain steepling into your flesh, tapering off into icy splinters. 

Now, you saw nothing but darkness, only hearing the hushed whispers of someone faraway. 

You were dreaming now, you were sure— as you walked through the halls, feeling light as a feather. Your hand dragged along the stair bannister, nails tapping to a rhythmic tune that you could hardly recollect. It felt as if you were outside of your body in a slightly pastel toned version of the real world, a skewed view of what was actually real. The shade of carpet was off hue, a lighter, rosy red than it actually was, the accompanying curtains a complimentary shade of pink, when in reality, they were deep crimson. 

Your steps felt effortless, a spring in your step like a young fawn who’d figured out how to use its legs, jaunting through the corridors with ease. You enjoyed your lovely pastel dream world, until you turned and saw the very end of the foyer. 

It was dark, the light sucked out of it like it’d been erased, consumed— a familiar sight of inky black tendrils beckoned from the end of the hall, your feet moving on their own accord now. Your brain, feeling very much like prey, screamed at you. Threat, threat— run, run, run! But you couldn’t, you couldn’t turn, nor abscond. Getting closer, there was an eerie hum, like many voices converging together into a cacophony— you recognized it, fear settling into your bones. It was a dirge. 

Pleasepleaseplease, don’t make me, don’t make me. Save me, save me.

The siren song lured you closer, until you were swallowed by the darkness itself, falling, falling… 

“We are you, Lady Targaryen.” 

“You shan’t leave this place.” 

“You will be trapped and rotted like us.” 

“You’ve fallen for their ruse. A fatal mistake.” 

The fall felt neverending, the breath stolen from your lungs until they felt like shriveled raisins. Hands grabbed at your body greedily, pulling you under the surface as water replaced oxygen in your body– you gasped out, screaming, but no sound came, your arms wouldn’t move, as if they were stuck in molasses.

Other voices permeated your being, familiar ones. They brought a little comfort, but you could only discern bits and pieces of what they were whispering, chattering around you. 

“— used too much, Alys—,”

“— she is perfect—,” 

“— needs to wake up before—,”

Your consciousness, your real life felt so far away now, as your hands reached out to buffet the impact of your fall into the void… you could almost feel the sickly crunch of your ligaments being broken as you kissed the loam, into a darling embrace of nothingness.

You crashed to the ground, body strewn and broken like a porcelain doll– broken, shattered, thrown away. Trapped.

Sitting up from the bed, your bed, you were drenched in sweat. Oxygen ballooned in your lungs with a sharp, audible inhale as you looked around, eyes wide like a newborn fawn, once again. You zeroed in on Aemond, who was sitting in the corner of the room in the reading chair, one leg crossed over another, bobbing with anxiety. Alys was there, too, off to the opposite side of the chamber, fiddling with something on the desk. Her hair, usually well mannered and groomed, was slightly strewn in a loose bun.

The sound of your gasp caused them to be at your side in an instant, one on either side of the bed. Aemond’s hand was entwined with yours instantly.

“Thank God, she’s finally awake,” he murmured, shooting Alys a quick glance, brow furrowed.

“Oh, darling,” Alys cooed, “You took quite a spill in the bathroom– Lord Targaryen found you with a nasty head wound.”

Fell? When did you fall? With a shaky hand, your fingers skimmed the outline of cloth pressed to your forehead– you winced, a sharp intake of breath hissing through your teeth, it was tender to the touch. “When… how long have I been… unconscious for?”

“Five days.” Aemond responded, his leg still shaking as he pulled up the chair, sitting back down in it promptly. 

You felt bewildered by that– five days? Five days you’d been asleep– and your dreams felt like only a moment and an eternity. The distress must’ve clearly read on your face, as Aemond squeezed your hand. You glanced over to him, lines of worry etched into his brow and beyond. He had dark circles under his eyes, likely from lack of sleep. He was, overall, disheveled, a look you hadn’t quite seen on him. You swallowed, your mouth suddenly cloying and full of cotton. 

Alys nudged you, a spoon in her hand. She had soup– when did she leave? – offering it, intent on feeding you like a mere babe. Curling into yourself inwardly, you shook your head. “... m’ fine, I can… I can do it,” you offered, suddenly feeling extremely aware of the heavy mood of the room. They had fretted over you for days, for an accident you likely caused yourself. 

“Come, dear,” Alys urged. “‘Tis wild rice in a nice bone broth.” 

Your indignant streak ended quickly as your stomach audibly growled at the sound of the food. Mustering down your shame, you sipped at the soup, allowing Alys to spoon feed you. Aemond had a faraway look in his eye as he stared at the pair of you.

–

Your recovery was slow and meticulous– you had fractured your leg from your fall, as well as having some nasty bruises on your hip, the purple red hue blooming under your skin like ink from a tipped over inkwell. 

You were utterly dependent on Alys and Aemond as they nursed you back to health, hand feeding you, bathing you, carrying you down stairs– and you let them. You melded into their touch, becoming one with them and they handled you like extensions of themselves, gentle and loving, as not to hurt you any further.

Your head wasn’t completely clear, though– even a whole month and a half after your accident, you still felt like a teddy, stuffed full of wool and hardly sentient. Alys laid you down in the bathtub, the same one you’d knocked your head against apparently, the water warm. It washed over you in waves, heat sinking into your bones and quelling the urge you had to scream, to run– to do anything. The scent of lavender filled your nose as she poured floral oils into the water. 

Aemond was behind her, watching carefully. He was always there, no matter the situation, looming. He was adjusting his shirt cuffs idly, over and over in an anxious habit. He had quite a lot of those, you had noted. Now that you were almost always by his side, you watched him constantly, taking in those little habits. Jaw clenching, eye twitching, rubbing his fingers together, bouncing his leg. Not only those, but he constantly looked to Alys, as if they were communicating with their eyes alone. 

You wondered what they were saying, as they met gazes and then looked back to you in sync while you were in the bath, nude as the day you were born. You pulled your legs up to your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious as they both bore into you, regarding you unabashedly, orbs roving over your figure. Pressing your chin to your knees, you looked past them, the glint of their scrutiny in your peripheral now. There was someone behind them.

Bloody and crooked, dripping water and essence of life, her body bloated and putrid. Her hair was blonde, at one point, at least– it was now a murky gray, stained pinkish with only the notion of its former color peeking through. Her eyes were dark, never ending holes– it was like looking straight into the void itself. Her throat was slashed, leaking the same black ichor that was in your dreams while you were incapacitated. Heavy breathing, jagged and errant, like a broken key on a piano, drowned out the chatter between Aemond and Alys. Her hand, spindly and wretched, squeezed on the frame of the bathroom door as she perched upon it, unable to stand upon the weight of broken, splintered legs. 

“You. Won’t. Live.”

The person you were before your accident might have choked, sobbed– but you were good acquaintances now with the ghosts of the estate, and their never ending threats and prophecy. Your eyes glazed over, a peeved grunt coming from you. “Go away.” you muttered. You were sick of seeing their faces, hiding in plain sight, always leering at you from afar with their grotesque visages.

“What?” Alys asked, taking her hands out of the water and peering at you curiously.

“... may I bathe alone, please?” you sighed, wishing for one moment of peace and quiet and aloneness.

Alys looked back at Aemond and they shared that unspoken connection once again. He nodded slightly, minutely. He didn’t even say anything– he didn’t say much since your accident, leaning on Alys to be his voice. He clenched his jaw, as he does, and left the room. 

Alys planted a kiss on your brow– the sweetness of her perfume felt familiar– and she departed, closing the door. As she left, you reflected on the state of your life. You felt like less than a person, moreso a doll. You didn’t remember falling, and you remembered… kissing Alys. Hardly, it was like a memory fluttering away on a breeze now, but the feeling of it was still there. It flooded back in your mind as you had drank in the scent of her when she got close, your stomach turning into a horde of butterflies. Was that even real? Or was it a figment of your damaged brain, painting a pretty picture for you while you were in a state of stupefaction.

It had to have been an illusion. Surely. 

You supplanted your hand on the lip of the tub after soaking for at least three hours– the water was cold now, turning your slightly warmed stupor into ice. You had hardly walked on your own these past few weeks, and when attempting to, held up by Alys or Aemond. Pulling yourself up with the little strength you had, you stood up. Your legs shook, but eventually found their own as you tested your luck further. One foot on the floor, then the other, toes splayed and wiggling as they touched the cool floor. Something akin to elation came to your chest as you stomped, hiding a tiny giggle. How childish you felt now– but not as bad as you’ve felt during your recovery. You felt less than a child then, moreso a barely living organism, attached to the hip of Aly or Aemond, solely dependent on their care of you.

You grabbed the robe left on the privy lid, snugging it to your form– you considered keeping it untied, to rove around the estate free of inhibition, just because you could. But, you decided against it, tying it taut around your waist. You went to leave, hand hesitating as you went to touch the knob, remembering something… something like a shock touching your hand from before. Shock be damned, you turned the knob. No prick of electricity followed, and you were free. 

Leaving wet footprints on the wood floors, you saw the halls in a new light. ‘Twas no pretty pastel painting, but it was familiar and real. You hummed along, hand tracing the bannister like you had when you dreamt. The estate was very quiet, not even a sound emitting besides the little pitter-patter of your feet– where had Aemond and Alys gone? Surely, with the length they’d kept you, they hadn’t gone far? 

As you descended down one of the far halls you usually did not venture to, namely the Servant’s Quarters, where Alys resided, your ears pricked up to pick up a noise. Like the faraway call of an owl, deep and throaty, you could only hear, feel, the bass of it– it only got louder as you got closer to her room, the door ajar, cracked… 

Peering in, your heart momentarily stopped, breath caught in your windpipe. Alys and Aemond were upon her bed, the top three buttons of her shirt undone. You could see the swell of her breast, heaving as she mouthed Aemond’s bare neck, his tie undone slightly from its spot on his collar, but done tighter just below his Adam’s apple in… a makeshift collar, almost. The older woman pulled on it with one hand, her other down… down… to Aemond’s weeping cock. She massaged it, her hand glistening with his arousal. His face was that of pure bliss and servitude, falling apart in her hand, with her lips against his skin, whispering. 

A gasp fell from your lips and they peered up at you. Aemond’s face turned to that of horror– but Alys’ didn’t change. Her lips just perked into a further smile. “Come in, little one,” she hummed.

Against better judgment, or any judgment really, you opened the door further. Your still wet hair was stuck to your face slightly, peering up at them both through fettered lashes. You should be in hysterics, you should be crying, screaming, cursing, damning them both to hell for– for… this. But, you were doing none of that. You felt… placid, like calm water. 

Alys beckoned you closer. “See, Aemond?” she practically purred, nosing his cheek while offering her hand to you. “I told you, she was perfect.”

“My love,” Aemond croaked. “Are… you well?” 

That was the question of the year, wasn’t it? Were you well? You blinked slowly, mulling it over in your mind. “No. I’m not,” you responded, taking Alys’ hand in your own. “But, I am alright with that. We are all… unwell in our own ways.” 

“So insightful, my little puppy,” Alys pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your mind and soul were utterly enraptured by her. “She knows how to share, don’t you, sweet puppy?” she side-eyed Aemond. “The others didn’t know how to share, did they– so greedy, they were. Not like you,” she spoke of you so reverently, with a honeyed warmth in her voice you just wanted to melt into. 

Your heart was thumping at the sheer taboo of the situation, but you were excited– Alys tugged at your robe slightly, exposing your breasts to the cold air, your nipples pebbling into pert little peaks instantly. She let go of Aemond’s shaft, her hand wetted still with his excitement, offering you two fingers. She didn’t even have to say anything, you just opened your mouth as she rested those digits on your tongue, and you sucked on them eagerly. 

Aemond, all the while, was slightly aghast at it– and even more, aroused. His blood felt like it was on fire as his hand reached out to caress your nipple like he always had before, between his fore and middle finger. You whimpered around Alys’ fingers before she withdrew them, smearing your lips with your own saliva. 

“I’m so happy, my love,” Alys seemed to be addressing both you and Aemond, as she pulled you onto the bed between them, her fingers drawing little circles upon your bare thighs as your robe rode up. “We’ve waited so long for you– but it was worth the wait, wasn’t it?” her lips skimmed one side of your neck, while Aemond nosed at the other. 

You felt all encompassing, squeezed between the two of them– your brain was firing off on all cylinders, every cell of your body writhing in pleasure. “... w-waiting?” you managed to ask.

“Yes, puppy. We waited for you– all of the others were no good, defective– but you are perfect. You desire both of us, yes?” Alys asked, peering up at you.

You nodded without hesitation. 

“You know how much I desire children, but unable to have any of my own,” she murmured. “Will you have a family with us? Like a pride of lions, hm?”

You swallowed, eyes peeling away from Alys, drifting to the door, which was now open. The ghastly figures of seven women hung in the hallway, dead by many different manners. Eyes of the damned stared back at you.

“Y-yes, I want to have a family with you,” you agreed softly. You truly did want it– as you’d become so dependent on the both of them, you would do anything to please them. And you loved them both. You blinked– the figures at the door were gone now. 

Alys hummed in delight. “Oh, my sweet,” she nipped at your skin before pulling you to the side of the bed. “Aemond, I am surprised she isn’t taken with child yet– he is quite virile, isn’t he– like a stud stallion,” she giggled as Aemond came up behind you, continuing to kiss your neck. “I suppose you need to breed her more often, now that she’s agreed.”

You melted into your husband’s touch, you had missed it so sorely– he had been so quiet and solemn during your recovery, like he was mourning something. He laid back on the bed and pulled you atop him, his arousal already prodding at your folds. You ached for him, truly, sighing a little moan into his mouth as you kissed. His taste was so different from Alys’, his was heady and deep, lulling you into a sense of familiarity. Sliding you back, he slowly lowered you down onto his length, stretching you out. You mewled at the sensation, coupled with Alys palming your breasts and pinching your nipples, causing that delightful cocktail of pain and pleasure that you had chased so fervently months ago.

Cursing under your breath, you adjusted to his size, looking down at him as you rested with him to the hilt. His hand grasped your hip, eclipsing you and thumbing at your clit. You rocked back and forth on him, eyes closed for a moment in exhilaration. Once opening them, you didn’t feel Alys behind you, but now she was atop Aemond as well, her bottom half sat upon his face as he serviced her, too– ever dutiful. The sight was raunchy and erotic and made a tingle go through you as you continued your rocking motions, skin slapping upon skin as you chased your high. 

Alys leaned forward, in turn, pulling you to her. Your lips met again and she tasted just as lovely as you remember, so sweet and comforting, like honey coating your lips. The entirety of the situation was catching up to you as your peak hit you like a train, whimpering sweet nothings into Alys’ mouth, your hand squeezing on Aemond’s hip. 

Apparently your peak had started a crescendo, as Alys was next, spilling on Aemond’s tongue and rolling off of him, his face coated in the evidence of her orgasm. Something primal and feral came over you as you leaned down and connected lips with him again, tasting both him and her at the same time– you clenched on his cock that was nestled deep inside of you, and with a grunt, he spilled deep inside of you. 

‘Twas round one of four upon that night.

–

You quite enjoyed the estate, as big and spacious as it was, you suppose it could be considered lonely. You imagined it in its heyday, full of diplomats, royalty, lords and ladies and children alike– but it seemed to be a ghost of its former self. Much like you felt you were– mayhaps not a ghost. You felt more akin to a moth, emerging from your silken cocoon and spreading your wings.

Sitting upon the terrace, it was a full three years since you and Aemond had married. You watched the lawn as your twins toddled on the greenery with an abundance of toys– a boy and a girl that were just a bit over a year and a half old. 

Settling into the seat, you put a hand over your swollen belly– once again round with child. You and Alys were keen on running Aemond ragged until the estate was once again full of children, much to his chagrin– and pleasure. 

“Lemonade, puppy?” Alys hummed, nosing your ear as she offered you a cool glass. 

“Thank you, sweet,” you responded in kind, taking a sip. Your eyes followed Alys’ hand as she gently caressed your belly, pulling up a stool and sitting beside you, one ear to your stomach. She quite liked talking to the children, born or unborn– always chattering, reading stories and telling tall tales. 

Aemond scooped up the twins from the greenery, walking over to the two of you. “Say hello to mummas,” he cooed softly. 

The twins babbled little greetings to both Alys and you, who they both considered their mother. You feared for the conversation that would come in the future where you had to explain that every family was different, and not everyone had two mummas. 

But for now, you’d enjoy blissful ignorance upon the secluded estate. 

Tipping your head back, you surveyed the tall walls of the building. 

Seven windows lined the eastern inner palisade– and with those seven windows, were seven figures, staring back at you. 

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #beware the sapphire peak #alysmond #alys rivers #alys rivers x aemond #alys rivers x reader #alys rivers x reader x aemond targaryen

[squirmhoney]

Hey love! Drabble event request: Number 3, “This is what you wanted all along, huh?" With Aemond Targaryen please,,,

Drabble Event: "This is what you wanted all along, huh?" x Aemond Targaryen

A/N: I really liked this one so I hope you all do too. Warnings: Incest. Smut. Fingering. 18+ WC: 700+

Slender fingers slipped into your lace panties, sliding across your wet folds torturously slow. It's as if he's memorising every part of you, not making any attempt to touch you where you desperately craved him most.

"Aemond," you whined, opening your legs further for him. Your oversized t-shirt was lifted over your stomach, making it easier for you to watch the way he touched you. "Please."

"You'll have to do better than that," Aemond purred in your ear, teeth nipping at the skin of your neck. His hot breath felt teasing as his face hovered over your neck, finally resting when he rested his forehead against yours. "Come on, I know you can do better than that."

"Touch me," you whispered into his lips, pouting at him. "Please."

A grin covered his lips as his fingers slid up to your clit, dragging your wetness with it. He worked slow as his middle finger rubbed against you, making you finally let out a sigh at the smallest touch.

"This is what you wanted all along, huh?" Aemond teased, leaning his head back as he watched you. His eyes ate up the way your eyebrows contoured or little breaths escaped your lips from pleasure. "Isn't it, niece?"

"Yes," you moaned, nibbling at your bottom lip. "Its all I've wanted."

Your confession made you all flustered, the surge of confidence leaving you as your cheeks heated up.

"Don't get all shy on me now," his voice was stern, making your skin prickle in delight. "Not when we've got this far."

"Fuck," the word came out chocked as he curled two of his fingers inside of you. The coolness of his rings, making you clench around him.

"That's my girl."

Aemond's finger thrusted inside of you, stretching your walls out. With each push of his fingers you were becoming a whimpering mess, hips grinding up into his hand like some sort of bitch in heat.

"Needy are we?" He questioned, pushing his fingers in deeper and faster.

You could hear how wet you are, the squelching of your pussy filling the room. It should of been embarrassing, to be this wet and needy for your uncle but with every push of his fingers you couldn't even manage a thought to care. Especially when his fingers were grazing your soft spot, sending you closer to the edge.

"Going to answer me?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice as if he knew you couldn't answer. He knew the affect he had on you, sending you into some dumb mess that could barely mumble a sentence. "You can't, can you? Too busy making a mess on my fingers to form a sentence."

All you did was nod, the noises leaving you being the most lewdest thing. Your thighs started to shake slightly, tension growing in your stomach as pressed against your g-spot. You knew you were close and by the looks of Aemond's wicked smile, he knew it too.

"Can't wait to see how drunk you become when I fuck you tonight." Aemond's fingers pushed into you faster, using his thumb to flick against your clit. He could feel your walls tightening, his words sending you closer to the edge. "You like the thought of that. Your uncle turning you into a dumb mess for his cock."

"Aemond," you cried, feeling your walls spasm around his fingers and a flood of pleasure take over you.

His fingers kept going even when your thighs clamped around his hand and you begun to wriggle about. He made sure to have you fully finished until you were pushing him away from the over stimulation.

But he didn't fully pull away, only moving to yank your panties off your legs. His head slowly moved down inbetween your thighs, eyes staring hungrily at the sight of your drenched pussy.

"I need to clean you up after the mess you've made," Aemond's words fanned against your folds as his hands wrapped your thighs around your shoulder. He ignored your pleas to wait a second, tongue diving down to get a taste. "Fucking delicious."

"Wait a second," you whimpered, jolting at sensitive you felt.

"You didn't think this was over yet, did you?" Aemond grinned into your cunt, greedily drinking all your juices. His lips wrapped around your clit, his words coming out muffled. "We're only just getting started."

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #squirmsdrabbleevent

[flowerandblood]

My Best Friend (30) (End)

[modern! club owner • Aemond x fem!reader]  

[warnings: kissing and fluff so none?]

[description: Aemond has his own club and often does business at the home of one of his business associates. There he often meets his younger sister, with whom he develops a deeper relationship through shared secrets. This is slow burn love story.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

This series has a sequel under a different title, My Beloved Nymph, which you can read here: Part 1

______

Y/N and Aemond were sleeping in each other's arms as the sun went down when the phone rang suddenly. Y/N reached for her cell phone, surprised, rubbing her eyes.

"What happened?" She asked, trying to clear her mind quickly.

“Police searched an apartment which belongs to Albert for drugs and found it well hidden under the floorboards. However, they found a lot of your photos on his computer." She heard Marcus' voice. Her heart was pounding like crazy. Aemond must have heard what he said because he pushed himself up on his elbows, his eye wide with disbelief. “You have to come to the police station to make a statement. I'll be there in about half an hour, don't say anything until I get there."

Y/N and Aemond got dressed in a hurry, looking at each other alarmingly. Aemond didn't say anything, but he wondered who had tipped off the police about the drugs in his apartment, and how they'd even found out about it. He wondered if Marcus and his men had anything to do with it.

They got in the car and drove to the police station. Marcus and Klaus were already waiting for them there. Marcus smiled reassuringly at Y/N as he hugged her.

“I told you we would catch this peace of shit. Come, I'll prepare you for the conversation."

Aemond and Klaus waited impatiently outside the room where Y/N and Marcus were talking to the policeman. Klaus, as her brother, had also been questioned about this earlier. The minutes dragged on and on until finally the door opened and Y/N walked out of the room, pale, followed by Marcus.

"You did well." He complimented her, but she just pursed her lips and nodded. Aemond, seeing the look on her face, suggested they come over for some warm tea. They walked over to the vending machine, and Aemond spoke immediately.

"What happened? What did they tell you?" He asked, feeling his heart pounding with stress. Y/N swallowed softly.

“They showed me pictures on his computer. There were pictures not only of me from a distance, but also of me sleeping, pictures of the inside of my room, of my lockers." She shuddered at the thought. Aemond's jaw tightened at her words. “He took pictures of me through the window while I was changing. At night when the light was on."

Aemond exhaled softly, trying to control himself. He was furious, but glad that the police finally got their hands on him. He hoped he wouldn't get out on bail. He stroked her shoulder comfortingly and kissed the top of her head.

"Go to Klaus. I want to talk alone with Marcus." He said calmly. Y/N looked at him surprised but nodded. Aemond asked Marcus aside. He suggested that they go out for a cigarette, so they both left the police station. Marcus pulled out his package and opened it, pointing it at Aemond. Aemond took a cigarette from him and lit it with his lighter. They both took a drag and stood in silence for a moment.

"How did the police find out about the drugs in his apartment?" Aemond asked, exhaling smoke through his nose, glancing at him intently. Marcus smiled.

"Does it matter?" He asked, flicking the ashes off his cigarette. Aemond frowned.

"It does for me." He said briefly, looking at him intensely. Marcus shook his head disapprovingly, taking another drag, looking to the side.

"Knowing this won't do you any good. Let it go." He said briefly, exhaling smoke through his mouth. Aemond stared at him, his face expressionless. He inhaled, frustrated by his lack of response.

"I have a bad feeling you did a little house search before you reported it to the police, am I right?" He asked suddenly, looking at him carefully. Marcus laughed.

"Aemond, you are a wise man." He said looking at him. There was something unsettling in his eyes, just like when he was in his office. "Why do you get into things that can hurt you. You don't have enough of your problems? Are you running out of topics to talk to your therapist about?”

Aemond looked at him in shock. Nobody but his parents and Y/N knew about it. He was sure none of these people had told him. So where did he get his information from? He pursed his lips.

"How do you know that?" He asked, uncertainty evident in his voice despite his efforts. Marcus looked at him calmly.

"Your brother often visits one of the brothels I own." He said in an expressionless tone, Aemond staring at him in disbelief. "I already told you. I'm not a good person."

***

"What?" Y/N asked in shock as they drove back to his apartment. She couldn't believe her ears. "Did he tell you he owned the brothel we were in?"

"Yes." Aemond said, exhaling quickly. “He is dangerous. You shouldn’t see him again."

Y/N looked at him in pain and disbelief.

"He took care of me all my life, he would never hurt me." She said quickly, feeling a huge pain in her chest. She knew Marcus had secrets and things he was hiding, but she didn't know he was in this business. Aemond snorted.

“With such a place, he definitely has contacts with the mafia. That's how he had to know what they were selling Albert and how much. And that's why he didn't want me to get involved." He said through clenched teeth. Y/N looked at him questioningly. “After Albert texted me, I met up with Marcus. I wanted to know where Albert picks up his goods. Marcus then told me to be careful what I’m getting myself into." He said, anger building up in his chest.

Y/N stared at him in disbelief. She pressed her cheek against the glass and sobbed. Aemond took her hand with his free hand and squeezed it. "I'm begging you, don't go to see him ever again."

***

The next day, Marcus texted her. He wanted to meet. He wrote that Aemond could come too if he wanted, but he'd have to give them some alone time. Aemond had advised her against it at first, no longer trusting him completely, but seeing her desperation and pain, he agreed to take her where Marcus wanted.

It turned out that the given address was a cemetery. The additional number he gave was the grave number. Y/N watched him from a distance, sitting on a bench in front of the statue, which was full of fresh flowers. She knew what had happened. She felt her heart pounding like crazy. She glanced at Aemond, who seemed to be thinking the same thing as she was.

"Give us a moment." She said softly and walked towards him. Aemond stayed behind.

Y/N walked over to Marcus and sat next to him. A photo of smiling Laura looked at them from the other side. Y/N's lips twitched, she couldn't hold back the tears anymore. She looked at him.

"When did it happen?" 

Marcus looked at her, the sight of her face making him look full of concern and warmth.

"Three days ago. Everything was ready. Her parents took care of it." He said, but there was irony in his voice. Y/N didn't say anything for a moment. They stared into each other's eyes intensely.

"I'm so sorry." She said finally.

Marcus was silent for a moment.

"He told you?" He asked suddenly. Y/N shuddered, pressing her lips together tighter. Tears streamed down her face, making her vision blurry. She wiped her nose with her hand.

"Yes." She replied in a broken voice. To her surprise, Marcus smiled.

"Good. It'll be better for you that way." He said calmly. Y/N frowned, for some reason his remark infuriated her. Until now, she hadn't realized how strong her feelings for him were.

"How can you say that?" She asked with pain. Marcus hit his tongue against his cheek, her reaction genuinely surprised him. She could see that for a moment he considered whether or not to tell her anything else.

"You do realize that Albert wouldn't be such an idiot to keep your pictures on his computer and drugs at his apratment, right?" He asked and Y/N froze. She stared blankly at him, trying to understand what he was saying to her.

"My people dropped them off. They took pictures of you too. One night Klaus let them into your house. But don't worry, he doesn't realize what he agreed to." He spoke in a tone she had never heard from him before. She felt his gaze burn her. She felt her heart shrink to the size of a walnut.

"You framed him?" She asked quietly, wanting to know if she understood correctly. Marcus laughed heartily.

"Did I? No. He's really a drug dealer and he really took pictures of you in the park. I tried to make the ones that went to the police less... intimate." He said after a moment's thought. "But don't worry. He's got rich parents, he can afford a lawyer. He'll get a suspended sentence. But I suppose it'll give him a tought that you have some interesting friends." He said calmly.

Y/N felt her whole body tremble. She had always sensed that Marcus was hiding something. When she saw him talking quietly to his father in his office, when they were suddenly silent as she entered the room. She explained to herself that these were things they didn't want her to know about. What she was hearing now was a bucket of cold water to her. She thought for a moment whether to ask the question that was on her lips.

"Was what happened to Laura really an accident?" She asked softly, her voice empty and tired. Marcus smiled sadly.

"No. Accidents don't exist." He said, looking at her understandingly. "It was a sign from several people that they didn't like what I was doing. The price of my selfishness. I thought I could take what I want and have her at the same time. But that was impossible. I tried to explain it to Aemond. I hope he is smarter than me." He said and took her hand in his. Y/N looked at him surprised.

"I will take your case to the end. I will keep in touch with Klaus. You can always count on me. But I have a soft spot for you. I won't be able to stop seeing you unless you make me. I shouldn't have come to the University to pick you up. I'm afraid if this keeps up, one day when you're coming home from somewhere in the evening, a strange black car will suddenly hit you, and I'll bring flowers to another grave."

Y/N gasped at his words, unable to breathe. Marcus kissed her hand, as he had done in the car. This time the gesture lasted longer, he closed his eyes as if he would never see her again. Finally he looked at her. There was only fatigue in his eyes.

"Forgive me, I told you I’m selfish. They say that if you love someone, you should let them go. Go away with him and don't try to meet me. Be happy with him as I was with Laura for a few years."

***

After talking to Marcus, Y/N was devastated. She felt like she had just lost a family member. She couldn't sleep at night. Aemond kissed her shoulders and neck tenderly, hugging her from behind. Y/N was cradled in his strong arms, tears streaming down her face, her breathing ragged. His presence was the only comfort that brought her relief.

"My little one. My beloved nymph." He whispered again and again, his lips touching her bare skin. He knew how much she suffered. He felt a twinge of jealousy that this man was so important to her, but on the other hand he understood it and tried to accept it. He kept his thoughts to himself, showing her only his total support and all the tenderness he had inside.

"I love you." She whispered softly, taking a quiet, greedy breath. Aemond kissed her neck again at this confession. "Please, don't leave me alone."

"Never." He groaned, pressing her tighter against him. They both knew that by arrangement, he had to drive her to Klaus's tomorrow. His throat tightened at the thought. He never thought he'd become so dependent on someone. 

That he will fall in love with someone so much that he won't be able to sleep without that person next to him. He felt like it was getting worse. He missed her even when she was in class for a few hours. He didn't know how he was going to survive a few days without her.

A thought occurred to him, but he backed out of it, deciding it was too soon. It was coming back to him, again and again. He thought deeply as he stroked her tiny shoulder, placing gentle kisses on her neck. He pursed his lips, not believing he was about to say it. 

"Move into my apartment." He said softly.

He felt Y/N shiver and froze in his embrace. She didn't move for a moment, then turned slightly to look at him. Their faces were millimeters apart. She was all red with tears and embarrassment, but her eyes shone.

"Are you serious? I don't want you to feel overwhelmed by my presence. Make you tired of me." She said uncertainly. She was afraid that if he was with her all the time, she would eventually get on his nerves. Aemond ran his fingers through her hair.

"I'm overwhelmed when you're not with me. When I can't confide in you, touch you, embrace you, fuck you.” He whispered, his gaze dark, his artificial eye staring blankly at her. Y/N swallowed loudly at his confession. She felt the same, but was afraid to admit it. She smiled slightly and kissed him tenderly.

"All right."

***

Klaus took the news that Y/N wanted to move very badly. She knew he was as attached to her as she was to him. She had promised him, and was going to keep her promise, that she would visit him several times a week. They hugged tightly without saying a word. Klaus knew he couldn't make her stay. He wanted her to be happy.

Aemond freed up one of his rooms in the apartment, which previously served as his home gym, to make it into a workshop for Y/N. He wanted her to have a room of her own to run away to—just as he had his office on the other side—and where she could work in peace. He knew that at first she would be uncomfortable and that such a place would allow her to settle in better.

They bought special shelves for her, drawers and a tall, sloping desk where she could draw and pin her work, as well as work on a laptop. They bought her proper lighting and an armchair, set out her books and supplies. Y/N even brought her plants from home and put them on the windowsill.

Aemond also gives her a section of his closet to put her clothes in. However, he stipulated that he still wanted her to walk around the house in his shirts if she felt like it, because he liked the view very much. To his surprise, the presence of another person in his apartment did not annoy him. On the contrary, now everything around him reminded him that Y/N was with him and only him, that she was his and he didn't have to share her with anyone.

He watched her as she arranged things in her study. He pulled her to him suddenly and murmured in her ear, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. He loved that it was their gesture. Y/N always beamed when he did that. Nobody else knew what it was about.

"Shall we order something for dinner?" He asked, stroking her bare thigh. Y/N sighed softly, wrapping an arm around his waist, which he accepted with a sound of satisfaction.

"Yes. I don't have the energy to cook. I'm not even halfway through unpacking yet." She sighed heavily at the thought. Aemond kissed her head tenderly.

"Rest, then I'll help you." He said, taking her hand. Y/N smiled as she looked at his face. He did not wear a blindfold in her presence. She stroked his scarred cheek gently, looking at him thoughtfully. "What?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Y/N only smiled wider and kissed him deeply, standing on tiptoe to reach him. Aemond cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her back with a sound of pleasure, they caressed each other's lips for a moment without breaking away from each other. Y/N broke the kiss by grabbing one of his hands and kissing it. Aemond shivered at the sight.

"I'm so glad I made it." She said softly. Aemond looked at her amused.

"What exactly?" He asked, lifting her chin.

"I became your friend."

_____

I decided to end this story here, feeling that it could get too long - it already has so many parts! Nevertheless, I made a second part of this story with a different title, taking place about 2 years after the events of this chapter, of course with the same characters, referring to the events of this part. The second part would revolve around Aemond's already more serious plans for Y/N and their already more advanced relationship. Thanks for all the kind words so far! 💖😬🔥🥴🥵

@chainsawsangel​​​​​​​​​​​​  @yentroucnagol​​​​​​​​​​​ @cardi-bre91​​​​​​​​​​​ @melsunshine​​​​​​​​​​​ @bellaisasleep​​​​​​​​​​​ @candypurplebutterfly​​​​​​​​​​​ @malfoytargaryen​​​​​​​​​​​ @serrhaewin​​​​​​​​​​​ @svtansdaddyx​​​​​​​​​​​  @iiamthehybrid​​​​​​​​​​  @beiigegalx​​​​​​​​​​ @sarahkimtae​​​​​​​​​​ @fangirlninja67​​​​​​​​​​ @namoreno​​​​​​​​​​ @thetrueblackheart​​​

#aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond smut #aemond x y/n #prince aemond #aemond fluff #modern!aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond fandom #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell x reader #hotd aemond #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic

[authurials]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ... 2/2

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . the seven always demand a price--this is your absolution​

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . one

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 . 18+ situations, (minor) violence, child loss, (non-graphic) traumatic birthing experience, strong language, religious guilt, illusions to character death/murder, very heavy material concerning said child loss and the following grief--please read with caution

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . so i know some of you were hoping for a HEA for aemond and reader, unfortunately this time around the plot demanded something different; however, i still hope you like this one-shot nontheless because i’m proud of how it turned out. i don’t tend to gravitate towards darker themes a whole lot in my writing but sometimes i get a request that just takes me that way, and i can’t ignore what my characters are telling me. so as always, remember to like, comment and reblog if you enjoy reading! do not repost/claim as your own please

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐒 surrounding your pregnancy dulled to whispers as your gilded words proved fruitful and true, the proof of which grew upon each turn of the moon; your belly expanded, rounding pleasantly as the child within you prepared to meet this world. And while most might look upon the change of a woman’s body with a tender sort of wonder, you only felt disgust as you stared in resentment at the angry stretched lines that ran across your stomach. The skin gleamed wetly under the flickering of your chamber’s lit candles as you rested in a warm bath, trying to find some kind of temporary reprieve from the pain the unborn child had been causing you of late. The maester claimed it was a promise of the end, that soon the child would burst forth from your womb and for once you found yourself close to praying to the gods you had so far scorned that his words were true.

You wanted your body back, feeling it had become more of a prison as of late then something you had once proudly held agency over. Again, you felt a burning hot flash of hatred for the child you carried as you lifted the rag from the water, ringing it out before dragging it slowly across the firm arch of your belly with far more gentleness than you felt. Even if you hated the babe inside you, you did not wish it harm–you simply wished it gone. Perhaps once it was finally rested from your body and you felt more like yourself you’d be more obliged to feel some sort of affection for the thing, but for now it was nothing more than a nuisance.

Sighing, you let the rag drop from your fingers and splash back into the bath, resting fully back against the tub as you closed your eyes. It truly had been a trying couple of months, particularly when it came to the state of your and Aemond’s marriage. You were not fool enough to believe that the babe would serve as some sort of salve to your rumored indiscretions, but you had believed at the least that it would’ve made your husband more amenable to you; and in some ways it had–as your pregnancy progressed Aemond took it upon himself to spend more time with you, usually in silent contemplation as he read or sharpened his weapons but at least he deemed it necessary enough to share his presence with the mother of his child. However, he had not been as easy to sway back into your bed as your hubris had led you to believe.

One might believe his inattention to your more carnal needs was based solely on his concern for the unborn child you carried, but you knew his refusal to bed you held deeper meaning than that. You were not blind to the steady gaze he would levy at you when speaking to one another, the untrusting glint that wavered just behind his one eye as he dutifully carried out his duties as your husband. It always appeared as if he was waiting for something, his eye constantly straying to the swell of your abdomen as his lips parted in silent prayer–

He wanted the babe to be his. And be his you hoped as well, for it would make your life strides easier if you were to bring forth a child–a son–with the Valyrian look. Your position would be all but secured, whether you chose to continue your illicit affairs or not was inconsequential–you had done your duty as a Targaryen’s wife and produced him an heir. Aemond would surely change his tune and resume his worship once more at your altar, hopefully more inclined to turn a blind eye to the rumors of the royal court.

Your eyes flicked up as the door your shared chambers opened and the subject of your thoughts entered; dressed in his usual jerkin and leathers, sword at his hip, Aemond Targaryen was as always a sight to behold. What you lacked in love for him you made up for in lust, once again close to thanking the gods you dismissed that you had managed to secure him as your husband. Though you were not blind to the danger a man like Aemond possessed–you knew him capable of a great many things, kinslaying only barely scraping the surface of the sins he had committed.

“Beloved,” you welcomed with a smile, sitting up slightly in the tub as you greeted him, “I was not expecting you back tonight….”

Your words wavered as you took note of the tense set of his jaw and the way his fingers flexed around the pommel of his sword–he was angry. Feigning concern, you gripped the sides of the tub, intent to get out and perform your wifely duties and offer comfort.

“Stay there.” Was all Aemond muttered, sparing you only a glance as he undid the belt of his sword and tossed it on the bed.

Hesitating, you reluctantly let the water envelope you once more as you leaned back, eyes never leaving his form as he went through the usual end of day motions, “what troubles you, husband?”

Aemond stills at your words, tense silence filling the space between you for a moment until he finally turns his back slowly to you and continues his nightly routine. So it is you who ails him….

“What has happened, Aemond?” You ask more firmly, frown turning your lips sour as you glare at his back.

“I always believed I had asked so little of you, dear wife,” he hisses the title like a curse as he tugs each button of his jerkin loose, shrugging it off his undershirt and tossing it to the floor, “but it seems I have once again been made the fool.”

“What nonsense do you speak of?” You hum. “What have I supposedly done now that has earned your ire?”

“‘Supposedly,’” Aemond’s laugh is devoid of humor as he turns to look at you, singular eye filled with accusation. “You cling to innocence so well, wife, but I see the truth of your crimes–the Seven have shown me.”

“The Seven or your grandfather?” You shot back accusingly. “Otto Hightower has spoken nothing but venom about me since my arrival in the capital–he has never liked me, Aemond.”

“Because he saw right through you from the start,” he breaths coldly, making strides across the room towards you.

Struck with a sudden sense of fear, you sit up and press against the side of the tub as best you can as he kneels before you, hands gripping the side in white knuckled fists as he leans in. His gaze falls to your stomach as he watches your hand fall protectively on it, it is only an instinct on your part but the gesture seems to only fuel his fire.

“I should have listened to his counsel when he told me of what ill fit stock you were,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “I could’ve saved myself all the bother and shame of having a whore for a–”

“How dare you!?” You cut him off, hand itching to strike him but you held back; violence would only beget violence and you knew you stood no chance against a dragon.

“How dare I?” Aemond shouts, pushing forward even more so your noses are almost brushing; the heat of his breath brushes across your damp as he pants. “How dare I be a dutiful and loyal husband? How dare I take care of you and protect you and pleasure you? And for what? It has never been enough for you, has it? You always wanted more, more, more–you greedy cunt!”

“This cunt is to be the mother of your child–” You tried to defend yourself but his hand came up to grip the column of your throat, not pressing down but stilling your heart in fear nonetheless.

“Do not try and kid either of us, darling,” he used the endearment like the sharp edge of a knife across your throat, thumb stroking menacingly over your pulse point as he continued. “We both know the babe might not be mine, and even if it were it does not absolve you of your sins. If it were not for my faith in the Seven’s retribution, I’d punish you myself….”

A pause–and then a laugh.

You laughed in the face of a dragon, muscles in your neck contracting under the pads of his deadly fingers as your body shook with the force of your mirth. That was until you felt the press of his grip, cutting off easy air flow to your lungs and causing you to choke on your laughter.

“You do not get to laugh at me!” Aemond cursed, a mad glint in his eyes as he held you there in limbo–pressing no harder nor letting up on his grip. “You have already made a mockery of me, of our vows, of the Seven–I will not allow you to take anything else, whore.”

Your noses were pressed together now, lips threatening to brush against each other until he forcefully pushed you away in disgust. Hitting the side of the tub, you grunt and cough, sucking in a full breath as you scramble and splash in the tub, trying to gather yourself as Aemond stocked back to his original place by the bed.

“You–” You struggled to form a coherent thought, having never had anyone–especially a man–lay their hands upon you in such a fashion. “You–”

“I care not if the babe is mine or one of your lovers,” he began again, ignoring you as his voice took on a more even and sharp tone. “It is in your favor that they come out looking like me, wife, for if they do I will keep this farce of a marriage and ensure you are taken care of but we will never be one like the gods intended. And if they do not look like me, well, I have yet to discuss that with my mother and grandfather but at the very least I will have myself rid of you….”

“Your gods….” You croaked, spitting out the thick coat of saliva that lined the inside of your mouth.

“What about my gods?” Aemond sneered.

“What do they say of a man who lays his hands upon his wife in anger?” Your gaze flicked to him, stare scathing as you began to burn with a rage that rarely came over you; you had always prided yourself on being calm and calculating, never showing your best hand until it was too late. But Aemond had made a grave mistake in assuming you would just lie down like a kicked dog and accept whatever punishment he cast upon you. “Or better yet, husband–what do they say of killing one’s own kin?”

“You still your vile tongue, wench,” Aemond spat, taking a step towards you once more but all you did was laugh, feeling the itch and burn of your irritated throat with each movement. Pulling yourself up carefully, your hand rested against your stomach as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, opening them once more only as a smirk curved your lips.

“You can fool yourself into believing the Seven offer you salvation for your crimes, my prince,” you leaned over the rim of the tub, something wicked and haunted in your eyes as you let out another chuckle, “but there is still something rotten within you, a poison that infects and kills–same as my own. Your gods cannot cure you, Aemond, nor will they have you when the day of judgment comes….”

You fall gently back against the tub, water sloshing out as you lift a leg and rest it against the rim, smiling at your red faced husband who stood before you with clenched fists. For a moment, you believed he would truly kill you–wrap his hands once more around your pretty little neck and finish the job. Instead, you watched as he turned and stormed out of your chambers, door slamming behind you loud enough to make you flinch.

A stillness fell over the room as you were left alone with the finality of your words–the last nail in what would be the coffin of your marriage to Aemond Targaryen. You had long since realized you were incapable of remorse, however, as you numbly blinked away the angry fog of your mind and sighed. Leaning your head back, your eyes slide closed as you take a deep breath in and let it out, both hands finding your quivering stomach as your labors begin.

─── ⋆⋅†⋅⋆ ──

𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 that night from his wife and took flight on Vhagar, flying far away from the reach of King’s Landing and from the murderous anger that plagued him. He would not be made a kinslayer again, so instead he strayed far away from civilization and found as much peace as he could on his brief odyssey. The only company he hungered for was that of his dragon, for she had no judgment or ire to offer him–just the comfort of her presence as she curled up for slumber after a long day’s flight–her rider sitting pensively around the fire.

On the eighth day of his self-imposed exile, he returned with a clear and firm mind–he knew what he must do. He could no longer stomach the acts of his ill-suited wife, for not only did they stand in direct opposition to his Faith but they also left him achingly empty as he allowed her to seduce him with her false piety. The idea of having the marriage annulled was not much better–it would surely stir its own bought of rumors–but Aemond would regain the favor of the court and of the gods with a next match; he would ensure this one was deserving of the Targaryen name and of the Seven–he would not be so blinded by sinful lust again.

Yet, when he was met upon his return with the worried fretting of his mother and not of his grandfather’s wrath he knew that his plans would have to wait. He allowed her to embrace him, arms encircling her smaller frame as she rested her head against his chest with a sniffle, “oh Aemond….”

“What has happened, mother?” He frowned, pulling back to look upon her face; her eyes were puffy from fallen tears, dark purple circles marring the pale flesh underneath from lack of sleep and worry. “Tell me.”

He bit the two words out stiffly, demanding his mother explain what was going on as fear took a vice grip over his heart; his first thoughts fell to her own being of course, and then to that of his sister’s, only then did they stray to the wife and unborn child he had abandoned.

“Mother….” He let out a shuddering breath as the queen still offered him no words. “Please….”

“Your wife,” she croaked out, not meeting his gaze as she blinked away fresh tears, “she went into labor the night you left.”

The news itself did not come as a surprise, but the sullen way in which she delivered it let Aemond know that something had happened during the delivery; for a moment he selfishly hoped that the birthing bed had taken the wicked woman away from him, but the thought was followed by a deep ache of grief.

“And?” He pressed his mother for more, needing to know.

“She labored for so long,” Alicent continued, shaking her head as she closed her eyes; she had been by his wife’s side the entire time, holding her good daughter’s hand, offering her words of affection and encouragement. No matter the girl’s standing in the court of public opinion, she was her son’s wife and was giving birth to her grandchild. “I feared the maester would recommend that we….that we–”

“Please mother,” Aemond choked out, imploring her to put him out of his misery, “please, just tell me what has happened.”

Silence. Hands shaking, gripping the fabric of her son’s tunic almost pleadingly:

“The babe came out….” The queen got a far away look in her eye, as if remembering every detail as it had happened; the small body of her grandchild covered in the viscera of their mother as it was passed from midwife to maestar. No breath, no cry, no baby…. “They came out not breathing, my son–”

Cutting off his mother, Aemond pushed past and began to make his way into the keep, unknowing of what he intended to do just that he needed to see them–both of them; his mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts, his heart an insurmountable amalgamation of emotion. He was angry and hurt and maybe a bit vengeful, but his heart still cried out for the woman he thought he had married–for the mother who had just lost their child.

He needed to see them both.

“Aemond, please, wait!” Alicent hurried after him, grabbing at his arm. “You must understand–”

“Understand what, mother?” He bit out, continuing on his way to Maegor’s Holdfast. “My child is dead….and I loathe the woman who gave birth to them and yet I still feel inclined to go to her side and comfort her–”

“You cannot!” His mother gasped. “Aemond, you must listen to me–”

She let go of his arm, stopping in her tracks as he kept on his path; without thinking she blurted out, “she is not well!”

Stopping in his tracks, he kept his back to his mother as her words sunk in, “she is sick?”

“Not of body, for the most part,” Alicent picked at her shaking hands, looking at the back of her son’s head. “But her mind suffers greatly from the loss of your child. I fear if she were to see you….”

“Where is my child, mother?” Aemond found himself asking, a sudden calmness falling over him as he let her words sink in.

“We had them taken away to your other chambers,” she explained. “We wanted to wait until you had returned to lay them to rest.”

He could see it now–a small body, wrapped up in bandages, set atop a pyre as Vhagar loomed over them like an omen; the only god his child would ever know.

“I want to see them.”

He did not wait for his mother’s response, simply continuing on his way to the chambers he had taken apart from his martial ones. For some reason he recalled how Aegon had jested upon learning of Aemond’s move that his little brother was more like him then he had thought; yet Aemond had never stepped out on his vows to his wife, even as she constantly threw them back in his face with her infidelities. The anger was still there, but it dulled in comparison to the numbness that was now washing over him.

The chambers were cold and dark when he entered them, not even sparing the guard placed outside a word or glance, no fire crackling in the hearth and the dim light of the setting sun casting shadows across the floor. Beside the bed now resided a bassinet, the same kind he had been placed in when was but a babe at his mother’s breast. His heart ached, slamming against his chest as he silently walked over, hands limp at his sides. He saw the silver of their crown first, fine baby hairs resting against their malleable skull as they peacefully laid in the crib–as if they were sleeping.

He choked on the thought, a sob escaping his lips that he then angrily covered; tears stung at his one good eye, threatening to escape as he peered down at their cold body. It was too much for his heart to bear, a heart he had once considered as black as Balerion but now surely it bled red as the pain stabbed at him. Lowering his hand, he rested it on the side of the crib as he continued to peer down at the babe; a moment later he found himself leaning down to take the small thing into his arms and tucked it against his chest, ignoring the quiet screams of agony inside his mind.

Standing there, he gazed down upon the stone face of the babe who would never open their eyes, but for a moment he imagined that if they could that it would be the eyes of their mother staring back at him. It was a discomforting thought, the reminder of his wife, one he quickly brushed away so as to not sully this moment with his child. He did not check to see if they were a boy or a girl–it did not matter–and once he had withstood all he could, he gently laid them to rest once more in the bassinet before leaving as quickly as he had come.

Only for a moment was he lost at what to do next, before the last image he had of his wife flashed in his mind–smirking as she leaned out of the tub, spitting words of venom at him even as something akin to worry settled in her eyes. He did not want to face her yet, but he knew he must, there was something inexplicable and unavoidable drawing him through the holdfast and to their shared chambers. A guard stood outside that door as well, but unlike the other he made a move to stop Aemond from entering.

“The queen has commanded that no one be allowed to see the lady–” The guard grunted as he was shoved and held against the wall, the prince’s dagger pressed against his throat.

The silver-haired man uttered no words, no warnings, just looked into the knight’s eyes for a moment with his dead stare before he pulled away, dagger still in hand as he entered the room. Same as the other, there was no fire or candles to light his way, curtains pulled across every window and the balcony doors shut tight and barred; it cast the room in almost darkness, one only able to make out the silhouettes of objects as Aemond made his way further in. He only stopped when he heard a faint sniffle, proceeded by indecipherable and quick whisperings; the prince could only make out a few words as he followed the noise to where it laid on the other side of the bed–

From the Father….mercy; from the Mother….forgiveness.

Unsettled, Aemond walked around the corner of the bed and stopped there, gazing upon the curled up figure on the floor who rocked themselves as they choked on raw sobs and their strange mutterings.

“Wife.”

The word slipped from his lips before he could stop it, causing the figure to still for a moment before their rantings began again. She let out a cry, his name on her tongue as she weakly lifted herself from the ground and threw her body at his feet, face pressing into his knees as she gasped for breath. Before he could stop himself his hand found his way into her hair, stroking and gripping it gently as he tried to make sense of her words.

“Hush now,” he hummed, staring ahead of himself rather than at the pitiful creature that was once his wife; he did not recognize her–in the span of mere days she had transformed from a woman into a wrath, a living ghost doomed to haunt him forever.

“They took him from me,” she sobbed, tears staining his leathers as she rubbed her face against his legs. “They took our son….”

A boy–a silver-haired son. A prince like Aemond.

She whimpered as his grip tightened and pulled at a lock of her hair, and he quickly gentled his touch, letting it fall away completely lest he couldn’t control himself.

“Who took him?” He asked, entertaining her madness.

“The Seven,” she gasped out. “They took him as punishment, for my sins….for all that I have destroyed. Aemond….”

His name too was whispered like a prayer, a plea, as if he too was a god that she must kneel at the altar of and beg for forgiveness; as if that could restore their son. Usually quick to anger, he found he had nothing but pity and shared grief in his heart for the woman before him. Allowing her to stand on trembling legs, gripping at his chest and arms as she stuttered out more vows of penance.

From the Maiden and the Crone….an apology. From the Warrior….a plea. From the Smith….a second chance. And from the Stranger….

She begged Them to take her.

And Aemond held her through it all until she once more fell quiet, the only sounds that came from her lips were broken whimpers and choked cries, muffled into his now damp jerkin. Their bodies were pressed together, prone and stiff and unmoving, pillars of aged stone that threatened to crumble. But he held them up, supported his own body just as much as he did hers, never uttering a word because he had none to give. He would not throw blame around, nor would he offer empty words of comfort–he hadn’t the stomach for either right now; all he knew was that she was all he had in that moment, the future be damned.

“The Stranger….” She hummed, voice softer now as she pulled her face away from him, the vague glimmer of light that streamed in falling across her; he was startled by how wide her eyes were, filled with an unsettling clarity as she flicked them up to look at him, mouth gaping open in something akin to awe. “They sent you back to me.”

“I–” He began, then stopped. “I don’t understand.”

“The Stranger bid you to return because there is a debt to be paid,” her smile was maddened, teeth grinding together as the corners pulled up harshly.  “The debt must be paid….I must pay the debt.”

“What debt? What madness do you speak of?” He stopped himself from taking hold of her and shaking some sense into her frail body, knowing her only to be lost to the grief–it would pass, it must pass.

“It is my fault that our son is gone,” she spoke with such resolved and sureness, reaching down to take one of his hands in both of hers–staring down at it with an odd sort of reverence, “so the the Stranger has sent you to balance the scale, can you not see that?”

“And how can I possibly balance the scale?” Aemond snapped, trying to pull his hand away from her, but she held fast as she dug her thumb into the palm.

“....you must kill me,” she hesitated over the words, her hysteria lost in the heavy realization of what she was asking him to do.

He paused, “you’re crazy.”

Again, he tried to pull away but she began to sob again, stopping his movements as she held fast to his hand and lifted it more, flattening the palm against her collarbone as she begged.

“Please, Aemond,” she looked up into his eye, tears streaming down her face, “this is my only retribution, my gift to you….and the Seven.”

“You think I want you dead?” He gritted out, glaring at his hand against her flesh, thumb smoothing over the protruding outline of bone.

“I think you want my penance,” she sniffled. “It is owed to you….husband.”

“Do not call me that when you ask me to murder you,” he frowned even as his hand smoothed up to the smooth and fragile bones of her neck, fingers finding purchase there.

“I ask you to free me,” she replied softly, leaning into his touch as her eyes slid close. “I ask you to send me to the Seven so that I can face their final judgment….”

“And so I might see our son before my punishments begin.”

He gazed brokenly at her face as she spoke those last words with such damnable finality; leaning down to press their foreheads together he let out an angry sob, finally allowing the tears he had been holding in to fall. And fall they did to the sunken face of his wife, his lover, his enemy–her own tears mingling with his and settling on her chapped lips as his grip tightened around her throat–

absolution tasted so sweet.

#˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 : #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen one shot

[divine-donna]

lights! camera! action!

in honor of hotd’s golden globe win, have just this random shitpost of an au for the hotd cast.

aka. movie star au! (i also saw someone edit ewan to be aemond on the red carpet so that also inspired me)

anyways where do you see yourself, or your oc, fitting in this au? i’d love to know!!

ser criston cole

say hello to ser criston! or just cris, as you’ve come to call him. a stuntman making his acting debut in the new drama, house of the dragon. compared to his stoic persona, he is very goofy. laughs a lot and can never do one take. being serious is not his forte which only makes his acting chops a lot more impressive. he also laughs when he’s nervous and he’s constantly nervous around the more experienced people. doing combat scenes with him is super fun and he always makes sure his costars, and even you, are alright. does his own stunts. formerly worked on the game of thrones show (according to rumors at least).

“the princess rhaenyra is brazen and relentless. a spider who, haha. spiders. a spider who strings and sucks her prey dry. hahaha. i’m so sorry guys. can i get some water please?”

daemon targaryen

daemon is an experienced actor with a lot of films under his belt. however, he’s most prominently known to have starred in lots of b movies, particularly of the horror genre. he’s given his characters depth but the critical reception has really shrouded his talent. house of the dragon, then, is proof that he can act. and, most importantly, that he’s a good actor. he acts with professionalism and enjoys spending time with his costars outside of work. he does have a loyal following that are willing to watch anything he is in but also, he’s been single for a long time. dating just isn’t in his mind until he meets you.

“that was a really great shoot today. anyways, (y/n), do you want to join me and the others to grab some food? we’re all quite hungry and want to wish the children goodbye and good luck on future projects. kind of sad they’re leaving.”

rhaenyra targaryen

rhaenyra targaryen is a famed stage actor. outside of theatre and drag, they are not well known. house of the dragon signifies their serious television debut. rhaenyra is queer, using they/she pronouns, and presents masc outside of the show. they bring a unique perspective to their character and are well respected in the theatre and drag scene. they got into performing through drag and was even featured on a reality show for a brief time. they become a queer icon once making their television debut and can’t be any happier with their success.

“are those chocolate covered almonds? can i have one (y/n)?...thanks! say, there’s something i want to try with my character. spare me a minute so i can run it by you?...you’re the best!”

alicent hightower

alicent has quite the filmography to brag about. she’s been an actress since she was a child, thus she has as many films under her belt as daemon despite the latter being much older than her and having more experience. she is especially known from her role on a teen show as the sweet protagonist (who everyone eventually got fed up with after 8 seasons of no character growth). so playing a complex character like alicent lets her show off her acting chops while also metaphorically shedding her image as the good teenage girl. you can find her hanging out with rhaenyra or yourself.

“what made me want to take this role? well, it was a chance to grow, you know. and such a devoted mother, wife, woman, has layers to it. it just goes deeper than what i have done during most of my career. and to bring this woman to life is such a great honor.”

aegon targaryen

aegon targaryen is the leading man with a lot of fans and a role in an ongoing multi-movie franchise. a chris evans, if you will. his most notable role is as a righteous man, someone so morally upstanding. so to play someone like aegon provides him with a challenge. he loves the new material and to finally be something different! he’s also very much like criston, always cracking up during his lines and making jokes. he’s always bringing refreshments to set for everyone and there are nothing but good things said about him.

“oh wow. did you get me a smoothie (y/n)? you didn’t have to, y’know. i don’t mind getting you stuff....oh, you just wanted to? you are very sweet. maybe we can go grab some food after this shoot is done.”

aemond targaryen

the newbie. he’s only acted in soap operas and dramas but he blows up after his debut on house of the dragon. aemond becomes probably one of the most popular actors after his debut. his inexperience makes him nervous and after the takes are done, he’s always apologizing and asking if his costars are okay (like with luke). he’s mostly played sweethearts in his roles, so his character is a new change of pace. sometimes, he does need a pep talk from you because it is very intimidating to be working around such experienced actors and actresses like rhaenyra and alicent!

“i am so sorry if i was too aggressive. are you alright?...okay thank god! i was worried that i had pushed it too far....it was a good take? oh wow! thank you so much for the compliment (y/n)!”

helaena targaryen

the it-girl and a rising new talent, helaena is the hottest new actress. she rose to prominence with rom coms and many people feared she would be categorized as a rom com actress from then on out. however, helaena is not one for formulas! she starred in a tv series that went against her rom com image and a dramatic film that had critics praising her for weeks on end. house of the dragon is one of her many endeavors to expand her craft. she is also on the more famous side compared to some of her other costars and has a large social media following, hailed as a style icon.

“(y/n), you want to take a picture with me on the iron throne?...cool! weirdly enough, this is very comfortable....oh, are you cold? here, you can have my jacket. it gets quite chilly on the sound stage.”

jacaerys velaryon

jace has dipped his toes into acting, mostly in comedies because his comedic timing is amazing. but his primary source of income is as a model and a musician. he’s written a few songs solo and heads a punk band. house of the dragon represents his dramatic debut. and a lot of his fans don’t recognize him at first when he comes on screen until they look at the credits. nevertheless, he brings in new fans for his band and his numbers on social media sky rocket. he is a bit of a goofball like aegon and has a large storage of memes for the groupchats.

“hey (y/n), (y/n). why did the bike fall over? because it’s two tired! hahaha, sorry, sorry. i will stop telling you corny jokes. i know you secretly love them.”

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #ser criston #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon the usurper #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #hotd au

[icarusignite]

An Eye for an Eye (part 30)

A/N:  so sorry for the late update, I've been having midterms all of last week and this week so I just didn't have time to post, but thank you for being patient, it's finally here so enjoy <3

Also tw, this chapter gets a little gorey.

Word Count: ~2.5k

All chapters: MASTERLIST

AO3

It was cold.

It was so so cold and Daenys was drowning; sinking deeper and deeper into the dark abyss. She thrashed her arms and legs wildly to stay afloat but her limbs felt leaden, making it impossible to break the surface. The ocean was endless, stretching as far as her eye could see, and an unbearable weight was pressing down on her chest. She felt an unseen force wrap around her legs, dragging her deeper into the murky depths and she struggled harder, the breath running out from her lungs little by little.

As she grew more lightheaded, a figure in the distance appeared to be approaching her and she blinked rapidly. As it neared, she could make out its pale waxy skin and the buoyant dark curls that adorned its head.

"Lucerys?" her voice felt too loud in her own ears, echoing in the vast emptiness.

Her brother's spectral form floated closer, his eyes closed and his face arranged in a peaceful expression as if he were just sleeping. They hovered in front of each other for a few moments, suspended in time. Then his eyes snapped open, a ghastly shade of blue and without pupils, his accusatory gaze piercing through her. He reached out both his hands toward her face and she resisted a flinch when his skin came into contact with hers. The chill seeped into her very bones. When he opened his mouth, he did not have the teeth of a boy, he had the maw of a dragon, with multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth that reached as far back as his throat. Daenys wanted to scream, to back away, but no sound came out of her mouth and she stayed frozen, Lucerys's hand still resting on her cheek as he bared his teeth at her.

"Daenys I miss you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Why did you abandon me?"

"I-I'm sorry Luke- I'm sorry," Daenys's eye stung with fresh tears and the salt of the ocean.

"What are you sorry for sweet girl?"

The sound came from a new figure that drifted closer. It was her mother, clad in her finest evening gown, her silver locks billowing out like seaweed behind her. Daenys squinted her eye to try and see better in the pitch blackness but then a strange light filtered down through the water and it danced in strange patterns around her, casting eerie shadows on her mother's skin. Her skin, oh gods her skin. It was charred and blackened all over with areas where it had been completely burned away to reveal oozing red open wounds and white bone. Her dress was melted to her body, the fabric fused to the blistered skin and her hands were contorted into gnarled claws. Only her face was untouched, pristine alabaster with a gentle smile pulling at her lips as she gazed at Daenys.

"Mama?" Daenys whimpered.

"Oh, my dearest, darling girl."

More spectres were joining them, weightless and formless. Her grandmother  Rhaenys, with charred skin to match Rhaenyra's and Jacaerys with several arrows embedded in him. Then came Helaena, a gaping hole in her throat that leaked blood, tainting the water around her a faint crimson. In her arms, she cradled a toddler no older than three years of age, its face and form crushed beyond recognition. Young Joffrey was next to arrive, and Daenys held back a dry heave at the sight of him. His body was covered in bruises and cuts, and one side of his face had completely caved in as if from the impact of a fall from a great height. He held his right arm tightly against his side as if it were broken, and at his left arm was Floris Baratheon, her throat slit into a vicious gaping smile. Aemond was there too, blood seeping out of his right eye, rendering him completely blind.

"What-what happened to you? What happened to you all," Daenys croaked, finally finding her voice.

A cold hand came to grip the back of her neck tightly.

"You happened, my little dragon. You let us die. You let us all die."

"Daemon? No...no...I-"

"You betrayed us, You deserted us. We gave our lives and you did not even lift a finger to defend us."

"I would never, you know I would never, Daemon please," Daenys's gaze flickered frantically between her family members and they all watched her with pity and disappointment.

"Now you are all alone. My poor girl, all alone in this cruel world," Rhaenyra cooed, stroking a shrivelled finger down her cheek and she shuddered.

"No-no you cannot leave me. Please don't leave me. I'll make it right, I'll do anything, just please don't leave."

"Do not make promises you cannot keep princess."

Daenys's heart clenched at the familiar voice, "Cassandra? Not you too, oh gods please not you too."

Cassandra was in a simple white shift, the front of it completely drenched in blood. She fisted it with hands caked in red, her eyes sparkling with tears.

"I did not want this. I did not want to die like this, not like this...not like this!"

"Was that my fault too? Did I do something to cause you pain, did I hurt you too?"

"All you do is hurt Daenys. You take and take and take. All you know how to give is pain."

"That's not true...please, I would never hurt you."

"You don't even know that you're doing it. That is how ignorant and selfish you are."

"If this is about...whatever this is about, I am sorry. I did not mean to, it was a mistake. Do not be angry with me," she beseeched.

The ghostly figures began to circle her, slowly at first, and then faster. They brushed their dead skin against her, pulling at her limbs and clothes, dragging her deeper down. More people seemed to have joined as well, a whole crowd of broken and deformed bodies forming around her, their blood and gore polluting the water around them. The acrid smell of smoke assaulted her senses and Daenys was plunged into darkness once more. Fingers tore at her hair, tried to peel apart her lips and claw inside her mouth. All she could do is whimper, her voice stuck in her throat. If they wanted to rip her to shreds, perhaps she should let them, after all, it was her fault they were in such a state.

Rhaenyra and Rhaenys were right in front of her, with their lips twisted in identical sugar-sweet smiles, until their eyes started melting, running down their cheeks in rivulets like liquified yolks. They each kissed one of her cheeks and then they wailed, pressing their mouths against her ears, holding her down so she could not escape. The sound was high-pitched and guttural, it is the last thing she heard before the crowd of hands and teeth swallowed her.

_____________

Aemond had just drifted off to a fitful slumber draped in the armchair across from his bed when he was awoken by the sound of his wife's whimpers. He scrambled up and over to her side immediately, brows furrowing in concern as he watched her for a moment. She was tossing and turning in his bed, sweat drenching her hair as she writhed against the sheets that had wrapped themselves around her limbs. Her breaths came out in shallow laboured gasps and Aemond gently brushed away the strands of hair that were plastered to her forehead and tried to peel away her hands that were trying to pick apart her own mouth. She flinched at his touch and lashed out against him, her face contorting in pain.

"Daenys," he whispered, his voice soft. "Wake up, you're having a nightmare."

His words seemed to have no effect on her and then she began to scream, her eyes closed in terror, still thrashing in bed as if she were fighting an invisible foe. Aemond felt a knot form in his stomach as he watched her. He grabbed onto her shoulders to haul her into a sitting position and shook her more urgently.

"Wake up! It's not real. Whatever it is, it's not real, wake up please!" he repeated, his voice a little louder this time.

Daenys jolted awake, still screaming, and aggressively pushed Aemond away from her. He stumbled back as if he had been slapped, startled at her reaction.

"Daenys?" he ventured cautiously.

"Stay away!" she howled, tears streaming down her face as she dragged in several shuddering breaths in between sobs. She swiped her hands across her face and down her arms, trying to get rid of something.

Aemond approached her slowly, reaching for her shoulders again but she smacked his hands away. Her broken cries echoed through the room and he felt his crack.

"What's wrong? What happened to you?"

"Go away, go away, go away!" she screeched again, scooting to the edge of the bed and pulling her legs up to her chest in an effort to make herself smaller. "He's here. They're here, they're all here."

Daenys rocked back and forth, eye darting frantically from one darkened corner of the room to another.

"Daenys please...let me help you," a note of desperation crept into Aemond's voice at her distraught state.

"I don't want your help," she spat. "Just leave me alone. He is here, they are here, please leave me alone!"

Aemond sighed and watched her for a while as she struggled to catch her breath amidst her crying. Then he shook his head and stalked over to the other side of the bed where a pile of blankets had been tossed over during Daenys's fitful sleep. He shook out one of the blankets and draped it over her until she was completely covered. Her lamentations became muffled until they eventually slowed down after several excruciatingly long minutes.

"Wha-" she hiccuped, her voice coming out hoarse. "What are you doing?"

"Are you feeling a little better?"

Only a few quiet sniffles could be heard from under the blanket. Aemond sat at the edge of the bed, folding up one leg under him and letting the other dangle off the side. Gently, he lifted the edge of the material to reveal his wife's miserable face.

"Don't push me away," Aemond pleaded, wrapping the blanket tighter across her shoulders.

Daenys looked up at him mournfully as she made an effort to control her breathing.

"It is something Helaena does, when the twins have nightmares," Aemond continued to speak to distract her. "It seems to help them, especially Jaehaerys, it is the only way he will go back to sleep some nights."

"Jaehaerys and Jaehaera have nightmares?"

"...Sometimes. Jaehaerys in particular seems to be very affected by what happened...that night."

"Oh."

Daenys's gaze drifted over to the corner of the room once more and when Aemond caught sight of the panic in her eye, he placed his hand on her cheek to draw her attention back to himself. However, it had the opposite effect and she scrambled backward, a shriek ripping from her throat, his hand on her face reminding her of the hands that ripped into her. In her haste to escape, she nearly toppled off the bed and only Aemond's fingers around her wrist pulled her away from the edge.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"He's here and he won't-won't go away, and he won't say anything, he won't forgive me...I can't-," she coughed violently, choking on her own frenzied words.

Aemond pulled the blanket back over her head, wanting to provide her with an environment of calm and stability that she sorely needed. For a few moments, the only sound in the room was Daenys's muted sobs. Aemond cupped her face through the fabric, and pressed his forehead to hers, taking care so that his skin was not in immediate contact with hers.

"Shhhh, you're alright. I promise you're alright. Everything is going to be alright."

When Daenys tried to turn away again, Aemond moved so that he remained in her field of vision.

"Eyes on me love. There's no one over there. Eyes on me, I am right here."

Daenys regarded him from under the blanket and she was met with Aemond's gentle eyes, his eyepatch having been discarded in the scuffle earlier. His sapphire stone glimmered in the dim light of his chambers as he tenderly wiped the tears from her face and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Shh, it's all right," he murmured, stroking her hair. "It was just a dream. You're safe. I'm here now and you are safe with me."

"It isn't about me," she blubbered, "It's not about me being safe. What good is it that I am safe if the people I love are dead."

"Is that what the dream was about? You do not have to speak about it if it pains you."

"I-I don't know," and then she was hyperventilating, each breath coming out strangled and choked.

Aemond pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her quivering shoulders. He could feel the erratic thump of her heart against him.

"Shhhh, I said we do not have to speak of it if you do not wish to. Just breathe,"  he took several deep measured breaths to guide her. "Breathe Daenys, just please breathe."

Daenys clung to him tighter, her nails digging into his skin. He winced at the discomfort but didn't pull away, only drawing her closer, rubbing soothing circles on her back. He slowed his breathing and encouraged her to follow along, whispering words of comfort in her ear. Finally, her uneven breaths began to slow down and her hammering heartbeat decelerated to match his strong and steady one.

"Daenys?"

When she didn't respond, Aemond looked down and saw that she had fallen asleep. He sighed and tilted his head back to rest against the headboard behind him, staying in his position at the edge of the bed with his wife holding onto him even in sleep, as if he was the only solid thing in the world. He watched her for a long time, smoothing the hair back from her face, eye tracking over the expanse of her skin and her fluttering lashes. The area around her left eye was still red and swollen, with a smattering of purple-blue bruising where the blood seemed to be collecting. Aemond assumed that she had put something over it to make the injury seem less severe as it did not look nearly as bad earlier in the night during the festivities. He had wiped down her face with a wet cloth before he put her to bed, and had been horrified to find that her wound did not seem to be healing as fast as he had hoped. He scarcely remembered how long it had taken his own to improve, but seeing Daenys's marred face made the guilt surge up in him in waves.

"I am never going to be forgiven, I don't deserve to be forgiven," he mumbled tiredly before slipping into the darkness of slumber shortly after.

____________

Taglist:

@m1tzifa1ry ​ @blulemonades ​ @bietchz ​ @bugheadskid ​ @applepyesworld ​  @mrswhitethornbelikov ​ @mysingularitybts ​ @caspianobsessed @lotr-got ​ @theekinslayer ​  @vaf24 ​ @feiwelinchen ​ @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @hanabbrmpg ​  @issybee0611 ​ @lyannesworld ​ @moni-cah @akinatrix ​ @carryonmywaywardho ​  @queenofbeingdepressed ​   @cateyesinlove ​ @frozenhuntress67 ​  @bregarc @spicykimchii @stargaryenx ​ @linevondensternen ​ @koobratzy ​ @nightmarematrix

#aemond x oc #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd fanfic #jacaerys velaryon #game of thrones #daenerys targaryen #aemond x y/n #lucerys velaryon #helaena targaryen #hotd aegon #hotd aemond #hotd imagine #aemond kinslayer #aemond one eye #rhaenicent #daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra x alicent

[lightningandfireinmybones]

don’t know if you’re still taking requests for prompts but is possible can the audience get 14, 15, 36, 46, 54 all in one. thank you so much for all the wonderful writing you’ve blessed us with so far btw 🥺❤️.

HELLO MY LOVE I WASN'T IGNORING YOU I WAS JUST FINISHING UP CHAPTER 20 BUT HERE WE GOOOOOOOOO

“i want to taste you” & “open your mouth” & “you’re mine” & “you feels so good” & “don’t forget who you belong to”

(18+ !!!!!

horny jail bc we're leaning into the uncle thing in an au where it's not normalized for targs,,, you've been warned and my ticket to every religion's hell has been booked in advance so no need to remind me)

"Aemond! What the fuck-"

"Don't," Aemond hisses, continuing to drag Valaena down the hallway, the sounds of the party dying behind them the deeper into the house they go.

"Don't what? Don't object to being manhandled out of my brother's birthday?" Valaena aims a kick at Aemond's groin, one he avoids by throwing her into her darkened bedroom.

"Don't," Aemond grits out, following her in and slamming the door shut behind him, "dance with another man like that in front of me."

In the purple glow of the LEDs surrounding her bed, Aemond can see Valaena cross her arms over her chest, just accentuating the swell of her breasts over the edge of the corset top he loves and hates at once. The second he'd walked into Jace's birthday party to see Valaena dressed in a tight black and gold corset with leather pants molded to the curve of her ass, he should've known the night would bring nothing but trouble.

Seeing her grind with Cregan, Jace's best friend, on the makeshift dancefloor had tested his patience until he'd finally snapped and dragged her away.

"Oh?" Valaena arches a brow at him, accentuating the scar on her face, the one he'd given her. "Don't grind my ass against another man's dick? What, would it be okay if I ground my ass against a woman then?"

"Don't let anyone else touch that body. That ass is mine." Aemond leans against the door, blocking her way out, staring down at her as he breathes through the last of his patience.

"We're not together anymore, Aemond! You left me, remember? I can dance with whoever I want!" Valaena storms closer, teetering in the heels she's wearing, slamming her finger into the center of Aemond's chest.

"Valaena. You're mine. You always have been and you always will be," Aemond declares, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around, slamming her back against the door. He pins her wrists above her head in one hand, slots his knee between her legs, right in the cradle of warmth between her thighs. Every rational thought, every sense of self-preservation deserting him at the jealousy coursing through his veins.

"You said you were my uncle, just my uncle," Valaena pants out, her hips flush against his. "A good uncle doesn't rub his thigh against his niece like this."

"A good uncle doesn't do a lot of things," Aemond trails his hand up her side, ghosting over her breasts, just grazing her collarbones, caressing her neck. "But you're not a very good little niece, are you? Good nieces don't dress like this to tempt their uncle. Good nieces don't rub their needy little pussy on their uncle's thigh."

He tightens his grip on her throat. Giving into temptation, he licks the glitter from the elegant column of her neck.

"Tell me to stop," Aemond nips at the racing thump of her pulse. "Tell me you don't want me."

Instead of restoring sanity to them both, Valaena moans his name.

"Kepus," she says breathily, "I want to taste you."

The words are knives to the last shreds of his self-control.

In one motion, he's pushing her down to her knees, gripping her hair in his hands as he forces her chin up to look at her. Lavender eyes glitter at him, a flush working down her chest, the dark edge of a nipple poking over the edge of the corset.

"Open your mouth," Aemond says darkly.

Valaena obeys nearly instantly, lush lips parting and pink tongue poking out like she's waiting for him. Her hands are scrabbling at his hips, the metallic clang of his belt buckle the only sound in the room above their harsh breathing and the distant thud of a rap song's bass.

His cock springs free, Valaena's tongue darting out to lick at the head like it's a lollypop, big eyes on him the whole time.

He pulls the hair in his hand harshly, tugging hard enough to jerk her head back.

"No teasing. You want your uncle to fuck your mouth? Fine. Take it, Sweet Niece."

Without warning, Aemond thrusts forward, his cock disappearing deep into Valaena's mouth. She chokes nearly immediately, hands coming to clutch his thighs for stabilization. He doesn't give her any time to adjust, ruthlessly taking her mouth for his own.

Guilt doesn't exist. Time doesn't exist. The way her father is going to kill them both doesn't exist.

The only thing that is real, that is true, is the warmth of her mouth, the tears gathering in the corner of Valaena's eyes, the flick of her tongue across the head of his cock when he pulls out.

"You feel so good, taking my cock so well," Aemond groans, pushing her head deeper onto him. "You wanted your uncle's cock in your mouth? You wanted to be a dirty little whore for me, on your knees and loving every second of it?"

Valaena moans around him, the vibrations traveling up his spine to lodge in his brain. She loves this. She danced with Cregan to start this.

Fuck. They'd never escape each other.

He is unforgiving, but she takes every inch of him, choking and gagging around the thick length. It is heaven, it is hell, it is every condemnation they deserve mixed with absolution they do not.

With his fingers digging into the back of her neck, Aemond comes with a cry of her name.

Every drop, every spurt down her throat, she takes, swallowing with fervor, sucking him for all he's worth. It spills out of her mouth, her tongue following, an obscene scene dragging him down.

When he can finally bear to part from her, he pulls himself out of her mouth, crouching down to her level. Mascara tracks run down her cheeks, her lips are swollen from the abuse, but her eyes are bright. Happy.

Aemond runs his thumb over her lip, catching a stray drop of his cum. He pushes his thumb past her lips, into the sweetness of her mouth.

"Don't forget who you belong to, Sweet Niece."

#i leaned into the uncle thing #might as well enjoy the ride if i'm going to hell #enjoy you heathens:') #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #tdopom fic #ask #minors dni

[buggyswritingcorner]

requesting nsfw-alphabet for aemond/aegon/daemond

NSFW AEMOND TARGARYEN

I decided to do Aemond as I have been seeing edits of him and I'm thirsting lol also it's pretty long hope that's not an issue :D

masterlist

NSFW UNDERCUT!!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Depends on how intimate you are in other aspects of your relationship. I can imagine him yearning for a deeper connection with his lover. Thus he probably doesn't like sleeping with many of the sex workers of The Street of Silk. If you are the lucky one he's chosen as his favourite you can expect him to be quite endearing but still sort of distant never allowing you to hold him too close or himself to linger too long. If you two are in an intimate romantic relationship he might aswell be tied to your hip. Doesn't like it when you go away even if it is for hygene purposes. He simply doesn't care, he believes being with you after sex strengthens your bond. You will have to either push him off and make a run for it to the bathroom or drag him with you.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Surely he must pride himself with his long platinum hair, only ever letting the people he trusts most brush it. Loves it when you play with it, braiding intricate braids or just running your hands through it as you brush out the tangles.

Something tells me your hands or your face - deep inside he's touch starved and deprived of intimacy due to his scar. So when you gently glide your fingers over his scar, your kisses feeling like butterfly wings on his forehead he meltsss. Oftentimes when he's most relaxed he takes your hands and kisses your palms intertwining your fingers and biting down on them playfully.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

I am almost 99% sure he gets a huge ego rush when you swallow for him. Something about you not being disgusted with him (bare minimum i know) turns him on so bad. He pulls you in for a kiss immeadiately after.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not gonna lie I think he's into older women. So if you are prepare to get worshipped and don't forget to praise him for it. Have I mentioned he yearns for all of your attention all the time? Even in serious situations he finds a way to be in your line of sight puffing his chest like a proud cub when your eyes slip over his slim physique, lingering in certain places.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Apart from his little 'family trip' with Aegon to The Street of Silk when he was 13 I don't think much was had. Perhaps he stumbled back a few more times when his longing and lust overcame him. But the shame afterwards was too much to bear. That's why he sees you as his saving grace as though you were sent to him by the gods themselves.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Whichever ones he can lace your hands together in. The intimate touch alone sends him into a frenzy. Or the ones he can stare you in the eyes in. Keeping your eyes locked as he thrusts slow and harsh. That's why you atop is one of his favourites - he can stare you down, squeezing your hands almost painfully as he reminds you to keep your beautiful eyes on him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Again, really depends how close you two are. The first few times he will want to keep up appearances, seeming as though he can handle anything and everything that is thrown at him. Once the two of you start getting comfortable he realizes it is okay to make mistakes with you, because you will help him learn from them guiding him along the way. Sometimes he suddenly stops, pushing his chest into yours to keep as close as he can whilst smilling at your face. He might even chuckle once you start demanding for him to continue, teasing you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Hygene is very important to him. Doesn't really shave honestly just doesn't see the point but will do something about it if you voice your discomfort.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's much more playfull once he gets comfortable which kind of goes hand in hand with the romance aspect - that is if you find him calling you sweet names while torturing you with two of his fingers romantic. Really he makes sure you feel as adored as you make him feel - kissing along your spine, taking your hand in his and pressing the palm onto his chest where his heart resides - whispering about you being the owner of his heart.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Before you two got intimate for the first time he would do his best to simply ignore it. Sometimes he wouldn't be able to resist but would feel sort of guilty afterwards as if he had done something wrong. After he met you he wouldn't hold back anymore - instead he would search for you knowing only you will quench his thirst.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Slight pain kink? I think coming to your quarters after a hard day in the training yard that would result in you gently pressing on his bruises sat atop of him and stroking his hair would remind him just how alive he is. He longs for all the feeling you awake in him be it pain or happiness. Praise. PRAISE. This man cannot get enough of it - you tugging his head in the direction of the mirror whispering into his ear about his ethereal beauty, endlessly complimenting him and nibbling on his ears. Even better when his face flushes a deep red and you comment on it. Or when you kiss his scarred eye, praising the beaufitul saphirre that resides in the socket.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere, literally just about anywhere safe for his mothers chambers - that he finds disgusting. Truly always ready to tug you into an empty dark hallway or the armory that is empty around noon. Sometimes when he feels stressed he will take you on dragonback far away from Kings' Landing to some deserted island or meadow and have his way with you under the sky.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You being how to put it… Barbaric? Making your way across the battlefield slashing and stabbing or your sharp tongue throwing retorts at ignorant court members. Your stinging insults and clear dangerous voice. He finds you so mesmerising and fascinating - how a gorgeous creature such as you could be so vicious and unforgiving to those select few. It lights a fire deep in him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I can see him doing almost anything as long as it pleases you maybe safe for some extremely 'unhygenic' stuff? He likes to keep clean so I can't imagine he'd fuck in the mud or something like that.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Probably prefers giving, liking the way you squirm and writhe at the offense his tongue puts you under. Taking his time to first spread your desire along your lower lips then diving into you, thrusting with unmatched vigor. Finally after he decides you've had enough he graces you with the mercy of his tongue gliding around your bud and suckling gently in intervals steadfastly pushing you to your high. All whilst your thighs are wrapped tightly around his head resting on his broad shoulders.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow yet energetic, always making sure to hit the right spots with calculated thrusts. Forcing your body to glide atop the matress so far sometimes he has to shield your head from hitting the headboard with his forearm. Always has his eyes pinned to your face untill the last few minutes when his hips start stuttering and bucking against his will, then he rest his head next to yours moaning into your ear and enjoying the tickles of your hair on his face.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Doesn't exactly love having to tear himself away from you after the intimate acts, but knows his responsibilities. Don't get me wrong he will never say no to one but the fact that they're usually done between meetings or training leaves you lingering on his mind during long speeches or spars with Ser Criston. Not exactly ideal when he has to pull down his black tunic down every five seconds during the fight.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Risky, very risky, likes to play games and win them. Except when he loses, then it's your turn to laugh as you make him regret his actions. Teasing each other in public usually ends with you either almost getting caught because of you decides it's a good idea to do so during dinner with family members, or you end up in some abandoned room clothes ripped haphazardly and thrown across the floor.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He's a dragon. Need I say more? He will last a lot usually waiting for you to finish first going as far as to stop himself when he needs to ensuring he won't finish first. He certainly thinks of it as something that boosts his masculinity being able to withhold his own pleasure for the sake of yours. He knows he has to rest for a while between rounds, that is if you don't decide to have your way with him and overstimulate him just to refuse him his second orgasm right after he's almost ripped the sheets to shreds, tears escaping his azure eye.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He's certainly open to trying new stuff, but might feel as though he is not pleasing you enough so reassure him. Thinks he wouldn't like them being used on him, but once you coax him with sweet promises he submits. And is suprised with how much he's enjoying himself, begging for more within minutes. Next time he will make sure to stealthily sneak toys into conversation.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He does like to tease a lot when you allow him. Usually he's the one pleading for you to have him but when it comes down to revenge he serves it cold. First riling you up, winding you up like a toy then leaving to take a seat by the fireplace with a book in his hand. His childhood taught him incredible patience and will power. He can last long periods of time resisting your advances only ever letting his eye slip down your figure. That is usually your only window of opportunity if you do not capture his attention whilst he's staring he will simply go back to reading.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He whines and whimpers no you cannot change my mind. Lots of humming also. Pulling you close kissing your neck so you feel the vibration of his sultry voice in your very veins. Sometimes when he's close his whimpers turn into deep moans coming from the back of his throat.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He can be suprisingly affectionate, it takes time and trust but he is capable of it. Ranging from deep slow and sweet kisses to feather-like arm touches his love radiates in overpowering waves swallowing you and enveloping you in its' warm embrace. He also enjoys music A LOT. Especially the deeper tones of violins or flutes, sometimes when he's thrusting he matches the rhythm of the music coming from the open windows.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Above average in length I think but very girthy. It ensures that perfect stretch that's not too painfull but leaves you entirely satisfied. It is almost like the gods sculpted you for each other, carefully moving the flesh to form a perfect puzzle.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He's young and in his prime let's just say you never actually end up sleeping when you bid each othe good night. Not only does he lust for you he also finds deep comfort in you, such that he has never felt before with another. He's bewildered not just by the feelings he's feeling but also by the sheer intensity of them. He wants to make sure every moment with you counts.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He has a lot of trouble falling asleep normally, but somehow after a few rounds he feels more sleepy than after a rough training session. Something about your calming presence and sweet smell lulls him to sleep. Oftentimes you have to drag him out of bed to the copper bathtub. Other times he refuses to let go of you whining whenever you make move to get up like a pup and burying his face into your chest or neck.

#aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader

[multistoty]

He had more story than time to tell it - but she supposed that's true for all of them. Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes part of you, step for step, breath for breath. But she wouldn’t go too far, too many kind hearts turn cold every day. Why did Aemond have to say it? Husband and lost should not at all fit in the same world. Aegon shouldn’t lie unbreathing on the floor because he was some predestined king he had never wanted to be. Alicent had made her always self conscious though she had confidence who she was. Now, she had to be a queen even when that role was Thusnelda. Someone to keep it all from crumbling even if she felt bone tired. Plus, she was terrified of hurting him further. It had taken everything to get her sister in the bed roll next to her husband. But the silence until he woke again had bothered her. The silence without Aegon’s nagging. The silence of a brother so broken she had been terrified he was lost to it all. She needed Aemond. Needed her first confidant. Thank the gods for both of them. They needed this. She would not bring up the bartering of marriage on their first conversation without him. Without. Such a hard word to realize and have living in your skin. But there was a standard with which she expected of herself. Sometimes she feels as though there are two helaena's, one coasting directly on top of the other: the superficial her, who nods when she's supposed to nod and says what she's supposed to say, and some other, deeper part, the part that worries and dreams… Most of the time they move along in sync and she hardly notices the split, but sometimes it feels as though she’s two whole different people and could rip apart at any second.It's like a razor blade edging its way through her organs, shredding her, all she can think is: It will kill her, it will kill her, it will kill her. But maybe happiness isn't in the choosing. Maybe it's in the fiction, in the pretending: that wherever we have ended up is where we intended to be all along.Who knows? Maybe they’re right. Maybe we are driven crazy by our feelings. Maybe love is a disease, and we would be better off without it.But we have chosen a different road. And in the end that is the point of escaping the cure: We are free to choose.We are even free to choose the wrong thing. She’d learned to get really good at this - say one thing when I'm thinking about something else, act like she was listening when she was not, pretend to be calm and happy when she was really freaking out. It's one of the skills you perfect as you get older. Now though, she stepped further into his line of sight. Letting the soft blanket of his words help create the torrent at bay for a moment. It had taken so long to convince her sister to sleep that she should have known better, but caring for someone else and doing something only helped when her world felt so meaningless and unchanged and different.There were so many people relying on them. Yet, he was speaking with her like a brother and not a king. “I don’t want to hurt you further by my closeness. I am uncertain how badly you are injured and I need to hear you drone on to me for years to come.- I’m shared. But I am a mother and a sister and Rhaenyra knows that my husband- that Aegon is now free. Even if she isn’t behind this,I have to figure out how to stop her from descending upon us. Upon you. Thusnelda is ready for revenge. As much as I want it, I am struggling with allowing myself it. I want to be stone though I feel like sand dragging us to different places with only the picture of solidity lost to despair. I guess the eye bags and swaying were still in your repertoire of cataloguing. I will take care of myself - soon, brother of mine. I feel as if I failed him. That sword could so easily be buried in my chest. I could have fought harder even though I know it was useless. They weren’t leaving without his heart ceasing beating. Thusnelda has kept me going. And you standing. I had to hear you speak coherently.”

@power-over-one-eye