#bella writes ✍️

[thekinslayed]

Thou Shalt Not Covet

summary | Aemond is displeased to find his wife alone with his drunken brother.

pairing | aemond targaryen x wife!reader, unrequited aegon ii targaryen x reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral sex (f), p in v sex, voyeurism, masturbation (m), angst, possessive aemond, aegon is kinda pathetic, Everyone Needs To Chill

wordcount | 5.8k

note | i owe aeg a written apology for this one, im sorry pooks </3 the idea for this came in a peach bellini-induced dream

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! <3

(dividers by @targaryen-dynasty)

It was nearing the hour of the bat, you had been sitting on your vanity chair, brushing your long locks when you heard the door to yours and Aemond’s marital chambers open. You perked up at the sound, turning with a smile on your face to greet your lord husband. He had been called away to the Tower of the Hand as soon as supper had ended, dealing with urgent matters of the realm while the king was nowhere to be seen. You jumped when the man standing in your room was not Aemond, but your good brother-in-law, Aegon. His cheeks were flushed, his stance wobbly, no doubt from the amount of wine he had consumed tonight. 

“Aegon!” You exclaimed. You quickly reached for your robe, covering your nightgown-clad figure to save yourself some modesty. “What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?”

The inebriated king jumped at the sight of you and the sound of his name. “Gods be good,” he said while steadying himself. He didn’t feel great, and the sight of you in your nightgown did nothing to ease his disorientation. He leaned a hand against the doorframe, rubbing a hand across his warm face, greeting you, “Sister.”

“Is something wrong, my king?” You asked, concerned with the faraway look in his eyes. You kept your distance still, wary of his grace’s well-known habits when deep in his cups. “If you are looking for Aemond, I am afraid he is still caught up in that meeting with your grandsire.”

“I just needed to get out, staying in these walls has given my mind no reprieve,” Aegon said with what you felt was an honest answer. He let out a heavy sigh, the corner of his lips dipping into a small frown. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted to ask Aemond about his opinion on something important.” Aegon could scarcely remember the steps he had taken that lead him to your chambers, the small details of what he needed to say held in the slippery grip of his drunken stupor. The sting from his mother's hand on his cheek and the stabbing tone of her voice led him away from his seat in the council table, where he was needed, and into the tunnels that lead to the familiar path of his refuge. With a cup of ale in his hand and the boisterous ruckus of the alehouse, the king had forged himself a plan.

A ship to depart from the Bay by dawn. Essos. A crown for Aemond.

You were aware of Aegon being at the receiving end of his mother’s ire once more, no doubt escaping to his cups after their fight that had echoed through the halls of the Keep. You approached his leaning figure, coming to stand by the settee, patting down the cushions to invite him in. 

“Why don’t you sit? Aemond might be back in a few, and you look like the slightest poke would send your face to the mud, brother,” you offered. Though your brother-in-law was far from being as proper and honorable as your lord husband, you worried for him. Aegon wasn’t perfect, yet it would be hard to deny that he has struggled to find his place in the family. You have seen the gloom that always clouded his purple orbs, one he had tried to hide when he had sat the Iron Throne and the Conqueror’s crown was placed upon his head.

Aegon did as he was told, sinking into the seat with a heavy thud and a groan. Silence encompassed the room for a moment, the crackling of the hearth filling in the gaps between you and the king. He could feel himself sobering up fast, the fact that he was sitting with his brother’s wife, his beautiful wife, while Aemond was away had him flustered, his senses fighting through the cloudy haze of the liquor in his system.

“Your husband,” he managed, “is he really as praiseworthy as mother makes him out to be?” Aegon queried, his tone casual and light. You approached the seat across from him, pulling your robe tighter around your figure as you sat down.

“What do you think? He’s your brother. You have known what he is like much longer than I,” you responded, smiling at him softly. Your head tilted ever so slightly when you studied the elder Targaryen before you, how his plump cheeks were flushed and the skin under his eyes held perpetual lines of exhaustion. Aegon let out a low hum, twisting his lips while he stared into the fire. 

“Aemond has always been a good man. A bit of a brute, but a good man,” Aegon said, nodding, but then paused to consider his words. “I suppose I want to know…is he kind to you?”

“The most kind,” you smiled bashfully. The thoughts of your lord husband always brought about a warmth that painted your cheeks, especially the ones when his icy cold demeanor always melted around you, an occurrence he said was only possible with your power. A dreamy sigh left your lips as you longed to have him by your side at that moment, still eagerly awaiting his return from his duties. You turned to meet Aegon’s gaze, “I know it is hard to believe, but he is so good to me, your brother. I never expected our marriage to turn out this way. So… wonderful.”

A smile, slight at first, appeared on Aegon’s lips at the sight of your blissful face, whispering a small ‘good’, before returning his gaze to the hearth. Another beat of silence passed you before you spoke up once more. 

“And you and Helaena? Is everything alright?” You asked, inquiring about the state of Aegon and his sister-wife, to which Aegon only gave a small shrug.

 “You know Helaena, Inever know how she feels about anything,” he said with a rueful smile on his lips. You frowned at his words, feeling bad with how quickly his smile dropped once he finished speaking.

“Helaena, she…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words to approach the subject. 

“She is so special. She’s not like the rest of us. She is bestowed with gifts that I don’t think any of us truly understand, nor can she fully carry the weight of. She needs someone to carry that weight with her, Aegon. I know you try for her, but it all just requires time. Give her time to open up to you, brother. Don’t force it out of her,” you advised. The king’s eyes sparkled when they stared at you while you spoke, attentive and awake. The corner of his plump lips quirked up at your words, breathing out a huff.

​​“She does seem fragile, doesn’t she?” Aegon said. You watched as Aegon fiddled with his thumbs, a twinge in your heart at the sight of him. It was no secret the king and queen had an unconventional relationship, with them being brother and sister, coupled with their utterly contrasting personalities. Even with children, Aegon and Helaena had never found their rhythm with each other, and the gaps in their marriage were only intensified whenever it was held in contrast to yours and Aemond’s marriage.

“How do you put up with his moods? Aemond, I mean,” Aegon suddenly asked with a small grin, eager to change the subject. “He’s not a pleasant man when he’s in a temper, to put it mildly.”

The surprise on your face was evident as the conversation shifted back to you, a small chuckle leaving your lips at his words. 

“Oh, believe me, I have tried many ways to deal with that fiery temper of his,” you laughed along with Aegon. “I am no dragon, I find no use in fighting fire with fire, though it has taken a bit of creativity to tame that temper of his.” 

A suggestive glint in your eyes twinkled as you spoke, giggling when Aegon let out a boisterous laugh in understanding. He was visibly surprised by his good sister’s candor, one he had not something he had expected out of you.

“And I bet you’ve been successful at it too, haven’t you?” He asked, cackling when you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Quite a bit, yes!” you agreed, a proud smile on your lips. Aegon shook his head at you, his shoulders bouncing with the laughter that bubbled from his chest.

The ease that flowed between both of you took Aegon by surprise. If only he could have more moments with you like this, perhaps he’d be a better man, a better king, even. No wonder Aemond had been so taken with you. His brooding brother had taken on a lightness to him since you had entered his life, one Aegon had first thought was quite bizarre to see in the one-eyed prince at first, but now he understood. You held the power to make any man change his ways with a single smile.

“Gods be good. That man is lucky to have you.”

Your mischievous smile turned into one of fondness at the king’s words, your longing for your lord husband growing all the more the longer he was missing from your side. 

“No luckier than I to have him as my husband,” you responded, earning a low hum from the king. Large round eyes, ones he bore from his mother, turned to look at you, glimmering against the warm glow from the fireplace. You fiddled with your fingers with uncertainty when you caught the change in his gaze, the warmth of his amethyst orbs turning to that of hidden longing. You knew this wasn’t because of love for you, it couldn’t be. You assumed the king merely craved the stability and trust that yours and Aemond’s marriage had, but you couldn’t deny the way he looked at you at times, a look almost too similar to that your husband held for you. 

It was best to probably dismiss your brother-in-law for the sake of being proper, but you just didn’t have it in you to leave him on his own for the night, not when the murky sorrow returned to his eyes, replacing the light your presence had stoked. You cleared your throat, the air in the room suddenly turning prickly. 

“I’m sorry that Aemond is taking so long. Why don’t you lay for a bit while you wait, brother? The daybed is quite comfortable,” you offered. Aegon instantly refused, not wanting to impose in your own chambers.

“No, no, I should go. I will be alright, princess,” he reassured, though the way your face held uncertainty made him falter. There was no doubt anyone who would come upon him in the halls would immediately know of his whereabouts, with his messy silver tresses, half-open doublet, and the smell of cheap mead that he exuded. Hells, when did he lose one of his rings?

You managed to convince him to settle by the daybed, promising to wake him upon Aemond’s return. It took little effort for him to fall asleep, the liquor in his system quickly submitting him to the depths of slumber. You fetched some furs to drape over his sleeping figure, soft snores resonating from the daybed. A sigh left your lips at the state of the elder Targaryen, worried about how he had been coping with the weight of the crown upon his shoulders.

 You were on your side of the bed, engrossed in your reading when your husband finally returned from his duties. You looked at Aemond in worry when he eyed his brother’s sleeping figure, his features immediately merging into one of anger and confusion after finding his wife and his brother all alone at night. 

“What the hell is he doing in our chamber?” He asked, his tone harsh. 

“Aemond..” You said softly, putting away your book before rising to approach him. Your arms came up to caress his biceps, soothing him. “He came looking for you, husband. Your brother is troubled, he waited for your return to talk to you about it,” you explained, hoping your husband would see reason and put away his anger, though his furrowed brows let you know that you shouldn’t get too hopeful. 

“I don’t care what he was looking for. King or not, he should know better than to intrude on my wife,” Aemond said, his anger still not waning while his voice rose. He was about to say more when you squeezed his biceps, a frown on your features. His own immediately softened, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “You shouldn’t be around him when he’s like this.” 

“I know, I know. But I was worried for him. I couldn’t just turn him away, my love,” you explained. Your hands drifted down to take hold of his fisted palms, making him unclench to let you take his hands in yours. 

“I should have made you aware of his being here. He needed someone to talk to, husband. I told him to lie down while he waited for you, but I fear the wine has gotten the best of him.” You pressed kisses to your husband’s wrists, placing his calloused palms to cup your face. Your eyes met his good one as it studied you, your feet taking a small step closer to his warmth.

“Was there anything he told you?” Aemond asked. You both looked at his sleeping figure. Aegon's snores had stopped, but he still lay peacefully asleep on your daybed. 

“He asked about our wellbeing but that was about it.” You half-lied. You thought it best to keep your conversation with the elder Targaryen between yourselves, something only you understood. 

Aemond’s apprehension of having his brother around his wife was something he did not hide, well aware of his hidden desire and admiration for his lady. The thought of you and Aegon spending time alone in your marital chambers while he was away took all of him not to strangle his sleeping brother if it weren’t for your soft presence. He could laugh at the incredulity of the circumstances, his brother having clearly wasted no time to seize the opportunity in his absence. 

The one-eyed prince stepped away from your grasp, turning away to rid himself of his day clothes. You bit your lip anxiously as he continued to spare glares at his slumbering brother. You approached him once more, standing in front of him. Your hands caressed his chest while he pulled you in by your waist, craving your touch after hours of being away. You planted a small kiss on his cheek for comfort, and another one on his lips. 

“I think it best for you to talk to him, my love. You both understand each other the best, after all,” you said softly. Your husband let out another angry sigh despite your kisses. How sweet you were, nothing but goodness in the fibers of your being. In his heart of hearts, he wished it weren’t so, that this kindness was only reserved for him, your lord husband, that way he would be saved from the many who feel smitten by your charms, his own brother for one. 

“I have no wish to even look at him,” Aemond snapped, looking away from you. He shook his head, knowing what he wanted to say, but being unable to bring himself to do it. “I just don’t like it. He looks at you, covets you.”

“Aemond..” you started, but you sighed as your husband gave you a warning look. 

“I swear to you, husband. He merely came with the intent to talk to you tonight. He was proper with me,” you promised, cupping his face in trying to reassure him, but his sharp jaw had stayed clenched. Your face dropped, frowning when he still refused to look at you.

“Darling,” you beckoned. You dipped your head to meet his gaze, a silent plea of understanding in your countenance when you stared at each other. You watched Aemond study your face with a cold glint. 

Seeing your husband still aggravated by your current situation, you knew you had to do something to calm him, lest he did something irrational to the sleeping king in your midst.

Tentatively, you pressed your lips against his in a kiss. You felt him soften ever so slightly, deepening the kiss when his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against your husband’s, his hot breath fanning over your face.

“What was that for?” Aemond asked, his tone still hardened.

“Missed you,” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him once more. It was quick to escalate, with Aemond taking the lead. His tongue prodded its way into your mouth, exploring your warm cavern while a whine emitted deep from your throat at your husband’s ministrations. You felt his hands wander down to your waist to settle on her arse with a firm squeeze. Breathless you pulled away, though your husband’s firm grip bid you to stay pressed against his chest. 

“I do not want this happening again,” Aemond said quietly, a hint of anger still in his voice. His jealousy flared, a heat rising in his head that inhibited him to think clearly. It was irrational, and he hated that it was so, but he did not know how to let it go. 

“You are my wife,” Aemond practically growled. You nodded at him obediently, whispering, “I am all yours, Aemond. Always,” before surging forward to kiss him again.

“I love you,” the prince said as the kiss broke. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

You had barely reciprocated the words before Aemond was kissing you again, this time more urgent and passionate as you grew more heated. His lips traveled to your neck, sucking and kissing while his hands gripped you behind. You had almost let your eyes roll back into your skull in pleasure when you barely remembered that Aegon still lay asleep in your chambers. 

“Darling… Your brother….” You trailed off, barely getting the words out while your husband pressed his growing stiffness into your center. “He is still sleeping there, my love.”

“Let him watch if he wants. It’s what he does anyway,” Aemond said, his voice coming out with barely any volume to it with his face still pressed into your neck. He had enough for the moment, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on forever.

“Aemond,” you warned, an unsure glint in your eye. You weren’t sure if this was some sort of sick power play your husband was doing to assert his possession over his wife to his brother, but you were still apprehensive about the whole ordeal. And yet, the heat that pooled in your center coupled with the look the silver-haired man held before you was making your rationality jump out the window. 

The longer you made your husband wait, the more you saw his temper rise again. You quickly kissed him once more, letting your lord husband do whatever he wanted for the night.  You pushed the idea of being intimate while Aegon lay asleep and risked being watched when he woke into the back of your mind, focusing on her and Aemond alone. It would be a lie to say the idea of getting caught and watched didn’t excite you at all. The idea of your prince asserting his possession over you in front of another man made you feel heated, wanted, and highly desirable. After all, Aegon was fully asleep anyway. 

Time to get creative.

Aegon was in fact, not asleep. He had woken up the moment Aemond returned, but continued to lay with his eyes closed upon hearing his brother’s anger at his intrusion. He knew if he were to awaken there was a good chance of a big fight breaking out between them, perhaps of Aemond even killing him right then and there. 

And so, he continued to pretend to be asleep while he listened to Aemond’s rage and his wife’s attempts to soothe him. Even with just listening, the elder could tell how easily the lady’s soft demeanor warmed his brother’s cold one. His heart thumped wildly against his chest, forcing his eyes to remain shut.

Amidst hushed whispers, his ears perked up in curiosity when he heard a wet smacking, then another, and then another. Hushed whispers again, and then the sound of kissing continued once more. From where the daybed was situated in their chambers, Aegon only needed to crane his neck slightly to the side and crack his eyes open just a hair to see you and Aemond in a passionate embrace. Despite the darkness brought about by the dying embers of the hearth, he could still see how his brother’s hand wandered, squeezing and caressing his wife. He saw how you kissed him with such passion, one he was unsure any lady had ever done with him. Jealousy burned within him, while heat pooled in his chest at the sight of the two lovers. He was a fool to continue to listen, to witness what was before him, but Aegon couldn’t find the strength to look away. What the king wouldn’t give for her to be doing that to him, to hold her in his arms. He was sickened with desire.

The younger prince led you to the bed, where he bunched up your nightgown to your hips before descending his lips upon your core. Aemond had an inkling that his brother would awaken, a sick desire to show the king what was his overwhelmed him. Lost in the depths of the mindnumbing pleasure that devoured your wit, you were none the wiser with your husband’s little game. He was wary enough to cover your bareness with his body, though the sweet sounds emanating from your lips were hard to stifle. Still, your husband had no complaints. 

Your husband was like a man starved, devouring your sweet ambrosia like it was the water that gave him life. You bit back the mewls that threatened to escape your mouth, though your efforts were futile as they only grew in volume with your impending release.

“Aemond, the curtain,” you mumbled before a moan cut off your words. You reached out to the curtain hanging from your bedpost, urging your husband to cover you for the sake of decency. If he even heard your word, he paid them no mind while he continued to fuck you with his tongue. His nose nuzzled against your pearl, the sparks of pleasure shooting from your nub sending you into a dizzying haze. Your release washed over you like the tide, and you had barely been granted a moment of reprieve to see if Aegon had been disturbed before your husband had freed his cock, sparing no second and breaching your walls. 

You threw your head back into the feather mattress, a breathless whine escaping your lips as he rutted into you at an unforgiving pace. Your hands clung onto your husband’s shoulders while you willed yourself to stay mindful of the noise, yet you couldn’t help the soft whines of your husband’s name that left your lips, much to the one-eyed prince’s delight. 

Aegon’s cock strained painfully in his breeches at the sweet sounds you were making for his brother. His hand twitched to rub at his bulge, and he subtly covered his lap with a cushion to pleasure himself. From his view, he was only granted the sight of his brother’s back while your legs wrapped around his trim waist, but the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin made Aegon’s skin tingle and his cock jump against his palm. He rubbed himself in tandem with the rhythm of the bedframe’s creaking, praying that the darkness of the room made it so that neither of you would catch him in the act. 

Aemond surged forward to meet your lips in a kiss that was a mess of teeth, tongue, and spit. His pace remained relentless, determined to make you fall apart on his cock while his brother helplessly watched. One quick look behind him and he had seen Aegon, crowned king of the Seven Kingdoms, pathetically jerking himself off to the sight of him fucking his wife. Aemond may have once coveted the crown placed upon his brother’s head and the glory that came along with it, but for once he had something his brother wanted. Nothing else would ever come above the warmth of your embrace and the sweet nectar from between your thighs. As a second son he would be bestowed no lands, no legacy, and no other glory, but what more would a man need than a wife who sang the loveliest melody while he split her open with his cock?

Your nails dug into the hard planes of Aemond’s back as he drove you further into your second peak. It was all overwhelming, the caution of keeping quiet, the mind-numbing pleasure of your prince’s cock driving into your cunt, and his grunts of pleasure in your ear, coupled with the electrifying sparks of his thumb playing with your pearl. 

“Do you like this, dear wife? Making me fuck you while your king lay asleep in our chambers? Is this what you wanted, hm? Is this what you wanted me to do?” Aemond growled in your ear, punctuating each query with a harsh thrust. You could only whine and whimper in response, while the warmth in your belly only grew higher, and higher, until it spread all over like cold water, making you spill around Aemond’s cock while you moaned in ecstasy. 

Behind you, Aegon bit his lip harshly as he spilled into his breeches, the sounds of your release driving him towards his. He pressed his face into the cushion to hide his panting, his skin growing heated with the humid air of sex that filled the room. 

Aemond soon spurted his own seed into your core, the pulsing of your walls milking him dry while his thrusts slowed. He collapsed on top of you for a moment, breathing in the scent of your damp skin while he caught his breath. 

“I love you.” He said against your skin, this time without the anger behind his words.

You caressed your husband’s hair while he continued to lay on top of you, equally feeling as boneless with his weight engulfing you comfortingly like a blanket. 

“I love you,” you whispered in response. “There is nothing else I desire for in this world other than you, my love.”

Aegon felt an odd twinge in his chest at your words. For a moment, just a few seconds, he fantasized you had uttered those words to him, and you were his.

After regaining your senses, you lifted your head slightly to take a peek at Aegon. From the view where you lay, it looked to you that the king remained peacefully asleep despite you and your husband’s activities. Though the darkness in the room betrayed you, making it hard for you to actually see the tear that had streaked down his cheek.

“I guess that didn’t wake him up,” you mused. Aemond merely hummed in response, his face still buried in the crook of your neck.

“No, he can sleep through anything. Must be nice.” Aemond said quietly. He bit back the smirk at your blissful unawareness, moving to lay on his back before pulling you to his chest.

“Will you promise me that you will talk to him? On the morrow?” you asked, looking up at him with hope. Your husband nodded, sealing his promise with a kiss on your forehead. He pulled the covers over the both of you, rubbing your back while you drifted off into slumber. Your husband held you tight through the night, pleasantly satisfied. 

You remained asleep when Aemond had gotten up just as the sun broke through the horizon, pulling away from you to prepare for his morning training. After getting dressed in his training clothes, Aemond approached his brother’s sleeping figure on the daybed, nudging him awake. He threw a spare training jacket to Aegon, which covered his confused face, dazed with exhaustion. 

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly, eyeing his brother with indifference. “You’re going to train with me.” 

The kind did not appreciate his brother's prodding. He would have preferred to sleep for another hour if Aemond would allow it, but he also knew his brother rarely allowed things that he, himself did not have a preference for, and so Aegon rose from the daybed with great annoyance, and a deep sense of contempt. He let out a groan when he stretched his aching limbs, the exhaustion from the previous night still coursing through his muscles. Aegon had been talking a little too loud for Aemond’s liking, who turned to his brother to quiet him. 

“Shut it. Do not disturb my wife,” he hissed, eyeing your sleeping figure when you slightly stirred. Aegon rolled his eyes at his brother’s order, though obediently changing his dirty doublet for his brother’s gambeson. 

“You’re one to talk about disturbing others in their sleep,” the king grumbled under his breath. Aemond merely let out a breathy chuckle at his brother’s words. 

This idiot. Subtlety was never his strong suit.

While Aegon finished up the last buckle of his garment, Aemond kneeled one knee on the bed to lean over your sleeping figure, planting a small kiss on your forehead. You let out a small dreamy hum in response, still deep into the throes of your slumber. Aemond pulled up the furs to cover you better, before turning to Aegon and leading him outside.

The morning air was crisp when the brothers descended the steps to the training yard. Few littered about, mostly servants running around in preparation for the day. The surprise in their gaze was undeniable at witnessing their king awake so early, the sight of him in the training yard with his brother clearly not a usual occurrence. 

The brothers sparred together, or rather, Aegon was pathetically dodging his brother’s attacks while Aemond swung at him with a skilled ease. It was clear there was a tension between the two, one they were both well aware of the reason why. With only a few hits in, Aegon had already begun to pant, the years of his negligence in his sword training catching up to him quickly.

“I hope the satisfaction you get from this helps to quench the fire in your cock, brother,” the king taunted, heaving.

“There’s only one person who can quench the fire in my cock, and it certainly isn’t you,” Aemond retorted, indifference coating his tone but a smirk decorated his lips.  “My wife tells me you had something to say to me. What was so important you chose to intrude on my wife in the middle of the night?”

Aegon held up a hand in defeat, dropping his sword carelessly into the dirt before bending over to lean his hands on his knees. He took deep breaths while he willed himself not to vomit, the wine in his stomach not settling well with the strenuous ordeal he found himself in so early in the morning.

Essos. His crown for freedom. All of those now seemed like a faraway dream, with the way his brother looked down on him with an unhidden contempt, the effort would be completely futile.

“I thought we could talk, as brothers. Yet standing here in front of you know, I see that is far likely to happen, Aemond,” Aegon said, resignation in his tone. His brother scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

​​“Talk,” Aemond said, his voice filled with sarcasm. He let out a small chuckle, grabbing a rag to wipe his sword.

“We can talk,” Aemond expressed, his tone carrying a feigned lightness that perturbed Aegon. “Just not about your little obsession with my wife, brother.”

“My obsession?” Aegon responded, incredulous. He looked at Aemond in utter disbelief, who continued to clean his sword calmly.

“If anyone is obsessing about someone here, Aemond, it is not me. You are too quick to anger, too riddled with jealousy of me that you cannot stand for me to be in a room with her. I would almost think you were afraid of being bested by me,” Aegon said, his lips curling into a sneer. His brother halted in the middle of his wiping, the hand holding the hilt of his sword gripping the handle tight. Aegon gulped at the sight, wary of the younger’s growing temper. Aemond turned to the king, narrowing his good eye at him.

“I do not fear you, Aegon. Do not pretend,” he said, an eerie calmness in his tone. Aegon took a careful step back as his brother stepped forward, crossing his arms behind his back. “I wouldn’t give a shit about you being around her if I didn’t know your damned thoughts about her. She is mine.”

Aegon’s clenched jaw mirrored Aemond’s. His brother’s words left him with no reasonable defense. His affection for his brother’s wife was now out in the open, and he feared the repercussions. 

“How do you know what I think of her? What makes you think I even want her?” Aegon responded, anger in his voice. 

“It is because I know you, Aegon. You are predictable, you grow wide-eyed at the first thing that you believe would grant you the smallest ounce of affection. It is pitiful, really, especially for a king,” Aemond sneered. Any snark rebuttal Aegon had died on his lips as he shrunk in the weight of his brother’s gaze. The younger prince’s stare was piercing, jabbing through Aegon’s skin, prodding at his bare bones. “If I see you making eyes at her again, I swear to it, there won’t be enough blood left in your body to even cry to the gods that they might spare you.”

Aegon could only stare at his brother, his response sending a chill down his spine. He had never feared the younger prince before, in all his physical prowess and ruthlessness, but as they stood in the quiet yard, he had begun to falter.

“All this for a woman, brother?” Aegon asked, voice low as he could only stare at his younger brother. Aemond huffed, standing tall over his king. 

“Yes,” Aemond said. “Over this woman.”

But I am your blood, Aegon wanted to say, but he could only stare.

“Don’t take it personally, brother. If any other man were standing in front of me, I would have said the same thing,” Aemond said, tilting his head mockingly. The one-eyed prince ignored the nagging in his consciousness, one that resembled his mother’s stern voice.

‘We must protect our own,’ she would always say, though as her sons now stood face to face, they couldn’t be more of a threat to each other. Perhaps he had gone too far, but he couldn’t let the fucker have more than he deserved. He already had the crown, the Conqueror’s name. He loved his brother, the gods know he did, but he would breathe fire onto the seven kingdoms if it meant it kept you by his side. 

Aegon could only sigh in defeat, kicking a small pebble by his feet as he sniffled.

“She is all yours, Aemond, do not fret. You have made that very clear. I shall take my leave, this conversation has certainly been the most… fruitful,” Aegon said, smiling sarcastically. The elder turned before Aemond could respond, walking back into the Keep.

Watching Aegon walk away, Aemond pondered on the weight of his words, what this would mean for you and for Aegon, realizing too late what he had failed to do. 

“Fuck,” he said beneath his breath. He closed his eye exasperatedly, stretching his neck backwards to face the sky. “My wife is going to kill me.”

#bella writes ✍️ #this is queued #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegond #targtowers #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd #aemond fic recs #aegon ii fic recs #ewan mitchell #tom glynn carney #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aegmond

[kailoraurelius]

What are ur headcanons for bechloe as a couple 🤔

Oooh okay. Ummmm. I don't think about their movie versions much these days lol gotta think. Lemme see if I can keep this organized.

1. Beca big spoons fairly often, but in a little spoon kinda way. Like she tucks her face down against Chloe’s shoulders, instead of being level with her. It's very cute.

2. Beca initiates touch with her friends pretty regularly in the movies, but I think once she and Chloe got together, there would be a brief period where she didn't initiate touch with Chloe in front of other people quite as much. And there would have to be a "hey, you know you can hold my hand or whatever in front of the others" kinda conversation where Beca admits she has slacked off because she fears she won't be able to keep her hands off Chloe at all now that she's allowed to reach out more.

3. Beca sleeps on right side of the bed. Chloe is supposed to sleep on the left, but she usually ends up more in the middle than on her side.

4. Chloe’s parents are super chill and helped Chloe pay for all those extra years of college. At first, they were just like "oh baby, failed. It's okay, you got it this time." Then they met the new Bellas, and especially Beca, and they went "ah ha. Okay, go get her, tiger!" And happily helped with the next few years too. Biggest Bechloe stans. They threw a literal party when the couple became official.

What number am I on, 5, okay: Chloe is a morning jog and shower person and Beca is a "I will put on my eyeliner and fix my hair, but otherwise I am not actually awake until noon" person. Chloe slips out of bed every morning with a soft kiss on Beca’s temple and usually returns from her jog right as Beca is leaving the house, where she gets a real, somewhat grumpy kiss goodbye.

(Note: If I have written Beau instead of Beca anywhere, it's because I've been talking a lot about Beau from Critical Role recently and I am not going back to fix it lmfao)

6. Beca likes to nap facedown on the couch after long days and Chloe will put on TV and lie on top of her like a weighted blanket.

7. Chloe cries the first time Beca calls her "my girlfriend" and Beca, mortified and horrible with crying people, starts saying it as often as possible so Chloe will quickly get used to it and not cry anymore. About a year later, they're laughing about how adorable and ridiculous it was and Beca off-handedly says, "I mean, what're you gonna do when I call you 'my wife' one day, dude? Fall apart?" And Chloe cries even harder. And then spends the morning making Beca incredibly late for work.

I think that's all I have atm! This was a super fun question to wake up to and now I gotta go write more fanfic of them. ✍️ Thank you!

#bechloe #kailoraurelius #beca mitchell #chloe beale #headcanon

[gggoldfinch]

Omg, writers asks!! ❤️

🦈 and ✍🏻

ask me fanfic questions!!!

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

Oh my god girl there are so many… I can’t think of specific lines, but there are scenes that stick in my head for ages that I like so so very much. The mansion fight scene in Something Good comes to mind first, and then more recently the very first introduction of Reader’s cemetery in the first chap of Cemetery Gates.

(Fr exposing myself here, now…) I have so many unpublished wip OC x Canon Character (canon-divergent) fics for other fandoms too that I love. Stored safely away for future revision, I have a several-part Twilight fic (yes I’m a Twihard, kiss my ass) written in the style of the books, and one of my favorite scenes from later on in it—one of my favorite things I’ve ever written actually—is a scene detailing the OC as she awakens after being turned into a vampire and how her experience is drastically different from Bella’s.

Another isn’t so much a fleshed-out fic as it is a detailed, detailed outline for a Star Wars fic. It spans 80+ years (yes, you read correctly) and two generations. There’s so much original lore, original planet-building, original culture-building, analysis, character development, canon character study, oh my GOD it’s actually phenomenal and I wish I could share it but it’s simply not ready for the public eye yet… I think if any of my fics were to grow into an unaffiliated novel it would be this one, considering how much thought and effort I’ve put into creating an original planet and it’s inhabitants and culture 🤷🏻‍♀️

I would possibly be willing to talk more about my unpublished OC works if anyone is interested in hearing more…

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

It seems kind of odd, but I have trouble writing characters with little screen-time. You’d think they’d be a clean slate to work from, but no!!! You have to stick with what you’re given and work OFF OF that to build a believable character. Which sucks because I love falling for side characters 🧍🏻‍♀️

✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?

On my living room couch, snuggled up under some blankets, a cup of tea, preferably with no TV blaring in the background. Either low-volume music on shuffle, or a scary story narration on youtube; or maybe if I’m really in the zone, just plain silence.

#thank you ronnieee #I went ham on that first question god dammmmn #ask game

[thelifeoflorna]

~5/8/2022~ Another win for writing journal post on the same day, albeit fairly late in the day... I felt quite fuzzy this morning so me and Bella enjoyed a slow transition out of bed. Joined a virtual focus group for a research project on the emotional impact of peer support work. I was quite anxious about it because of the topic and I didn't know who would be attending, but actually it ended up feeling like a safe space to share some really deep, usually unspoken, stuff and there were some really powerful discussions. H arrived as I finished. Once we had done a couple of bits at home we went to the pharmacy, then to McDs for lunch, then to Pets At Home where finally they had Bella's cat litter in stock, and then a brief nearby walk, which felt uncomfortably hot. After I got home, mainly got into some drawing again. Went for a walk just before it got dark as didn't manage much yesterday. In my usual style all the stuff from the group earlier started swirling round my head later on, after the offer of an official debrief. But back to my drawing now...✍️ 🦄 #instadaily #instablog #update #mentalhealth #dissociativeidentitydisorder #cptsd #autism #traumarecovery #edrecovery #anxiety #chronicillness #disability #pots #potsie #dysautonomia #positivevibes #recovery #nationaltrust #petwork #petworthhouse #dreamy #georgianarchitecture #nature #naturelove #natureseeker #walking #skyporn #cottagecore (at Petworth House and Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cg5K2r3qeAlFGglxNlowPOBKuPLI-hLF5p6Jp40/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#instadaily #instablog #update #mentalhealth #dissociativeidentitydisorder #cptsd #autism #traumarecovery #edrecovery #anxiety #chronicillness #disability #pots #potsie #dysautonomia #positivevibes #recovery #nationaltrust #petwork #petworthhouse #dreamy #georgianarchitecture #nature #naturelove #natureseeker #walking #skyporn #cottagecore

[mishervellous]

222 ask game! i’m so late to this! happy new year!

tagged by the lovely @unbridgeabledistances, @xgoldendays and @mrsinistertype 💙

2 fictional characters to describe yourself

my friend always tells me that I give off Eric Effiong energy (we get it I’m gay), and then I’d have to say Lip (positive)

2 songs stuck in your head

Bella Ciao de Libertad—the Far Cry 6 soundtrack SLAPS omg and Easy on Me by Adele

2 shows you’d rewatch forever

prolly Shameless and Supernatural

2 drinks you order at starbucks

no starbucks here bestie 💔 but the few times I went I always got a white chocolate frappuccino (?)

2 movies you know by heart

Titanic and Lilo & Stitch (the perfect combo)

2 concerts you’d like to go to

omg måneskin and post malone 😭

2 things you wanna do in 2022

go to London and write at least 100k of something ✍️

2 things about yourself that might surprise people

1) I can’t whistle 2) I’m half portuguese

2 random pictures from your camera roll

i’m too late to tag anyone but if you haven’t been tagged, now you have 💙

#tag gamez #💙💙💙💙

[arrthurpendragon]

✍️✍️✍️ + Breakaway?

Snow. It freaking snowed. Ugh. I hated snow. It was one of the few things Bella and I somewhat bonded over one morning before school. We stood side by side staring out the kitchen window with our arms folded across our chests with looks of disgust plastered on our faces. It was probably one of the few times you could actually tell we were twins.

Send an ask with ✍️ + the title of one of my fics and I’ll write a sentence for it.

#oc: rebekah swan #fic: breakaway #fd: twilight #write a sentence ask game #spoilers

[thekinslayed]

Sweet, Wonderful You

summary | Aemond finds himself pleased with his new wife.

pairing | newlywed aemond targaryen x wife!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, oral (f), semi-public, spanking, hot hot sex, arranged marriage, fingering, Aemond Has Feelings, lots of fluff and marital bliss <3

wordcount | 5.6k

note | if i had a penny for every time Aemond was up to no good in a tent, i'd only have two pennies, but it's weird that it’s happened twice!

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

(divider by @zaldritzosrose)

There was a slight rattle upon the earth when the hunting party returned with a thunderous arrival. Cheers and applause greeted the group of a hundred or so men, composed of noble lords, young squires, and knights to keep them all guarded in the woods. The hounds raced with the horses, barking at their feet. They had returned successfully after a full day and a half of hunting the prized stag, having departed a night before the rest of the royal party. 

Among the cluster, three heads of silver hair held a stark contrast from the rest. They rode straight to the center of the camp, stopping just before the royal tents. You stood with the Queen and your good sister, Helaena, who held a green little creature in her palm. Your fingers were wrung together anxiously as the princes dismounted their horses. One by one, Prince Aegon and Prince Daeron handed off their horses to the keepers, before coming over to greet their family, followed by your new husband, the one-eyed Prince Aemond. 

The King’s second son spotted you almost immediately upon returning to camp, keeping his good eye on you until he beckoned his horse to a halt. As he walked over, you felt a warm tinge in your cheeks when his good eye raked over your form. Your husband extended a hand to you when he was close enough, to which you hastily removed your glove to place your smaller palm in his. He dipped his head to press a kiss to your knuckles, greeting you, “Dear wife.”

“Well done, my prince. I was told of your great skills in hunting the stag,” you praised him. Behind his tall figure, you can see the beast being dragged away, blood staining the better half of its neck. You can feel the stares of onlookers around you, no doubt wanting to catch a glimpse of the newlyweds together. Your husband merely hummed, offering you a quip of a smile. 

"I was lucky, nothing more," Aemond said with a little bit of humility. The queen urged everyone to head inside the warm tent as the breeze began to lap at your faces with a sharp chill, the day slowly starting to dim. The prince took your hand and placed it on his elbow, turning his head to examine the dress you wore. It was a dark red, embellished with dragons of black thread, completed with a black underskirt and a dark fur trim along its neckline. A true Targaryen garment, paired with black fur-lined gloves your husband had given you before he left for the hunt. 

"Thank you for coming to greet me, my lady. You look lovely," he complimented, making you blush. It wasn’t often the prince would unleash compliments so openly, and in the short period you have been together, you had been bestowed mostly with formal and terse praises, this was a first. You ran a hand down your skirts shyly, happy to find your husband pleased with your attire. 

“Do you like it? It was a gift from Dragonstone. Your sister had written of her regret of not being able to come to the celebrations. Her being with child had prevented her from traveling, it seems,” you informed him. From your touch on his elbow, you feel your husband tense up. This immediately wiped the smile off your face, glancing up at him in slight worry of what you had said something to gain this reaction. His good eye blinked before his lips pursed, letting out another low hum.

“Half-sister.”

“W-what?”

“Rhaenyra, she is my half-sister,” Aemond corrected. You all but blanched at the return of his cold and distant tone, mentally kicking yourself for having forgotten the strife between King Viserys’ children. You didn’t miss the way when he mentioned her name, almost jeering. 

“Right, of course,” you chuckled awkwardly, before caressing his bicep with your other hand. Your husband led you into the tent, greeted by lords and ladies alike, who uttered praises of the pair of you making such a handsome couple. ‘Good fortune shall come to this union!’ and ‘Your marriage shall ever be fruitful!’ they praised, and you thanked them graciously with a smile. Aemond let you entertain your guests, who had traveled from all over the Seven Kingdoms to witness the marriage of the royal prince and his lady.

Somehow, you managed to make your way to where the Queen sat with her father, the Lord Hand. They bore satisfied smiles on their faces, and you approached them with your husband, an equally bright smile on your features.

“This has been the most splendid affair! The gods have been kind,” Alicent said, visibly pleased. Aemond expressed his word of thanks to his mother, before exchanging a courteous nod with his grandfather.

“Yes, they have,” you spoke softly, turning your head to look at your dragon prince. “They’ve kept my husband out of harm’s way, for that I am glad.”

Otto held a satisfied smile on his face at your words, pleased with having orchestrated this union. It was by his doing that your father had been called to court to sit on the King’s council, and with the highly revered lord’s arrival to the Red Keep, he brought with him his only daughter, seven and ten years of age. You had been given the role of a lady-in-waiting to Princess Helaena, joining the handful of other royal ladies that accompanied the princess.  

Aemond always knew he would marry for duty. To whom, he knew naught, up until he heard of you. It was determined that you shall be wed to the prince upon the endorsement from Otto Hightower to the King, though your father had asked for the marriage to happen after you turned eight and ten. Aemond had caught glimpses of you with Helaena and her ladies, but had never sought you out himself. He wasn’t one to meddle with his sister’s activities with her group, with their singing, sewing, and all of their giggling, but the few times he had seen you he thought you the most handsome out of all of them. A shy little thing you were, never boisterous or commanding. The princess often asked you to be her sole companion most days, when she had grown tired of being surrounded by different voices and faces. Helaena had expressed her delight after learning of your and Aemond’s nuptials, happy to see her favorite lady and her favorite brother together. 

He was pleased with this union, to say the least. You were quite the beauty, graceful, and well-equipped with the knowledge of history and philosophy, as well as the talent for playing the harp. He considered himself lucky not to be stuck with a woman he would not agree with in ego, like a Lannister. As meek as you were, you still possessed wit, but of an unassuming kind. The prince courted you for 4 moons, gracing your days with his presence as he accompanied you on walks through the royal gardens, sat with you in the library while you both read, and visited you in Helaena’s chambers when the rest of her ladies were dismissed. On your nameday, he had gifted you with an exquisite set of jewelry, a pair of earrings and a necklace of sapphire. He took quite an interest in you, despite his usual stoic expressions. Aemond was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and as much as he tried to ignore it, to be graced by the sight of you became a part of his days, and dreams of you filled his nights. However, despite all the time you had spent together, it was difficult to move past the formalities, especially with your interactions being heavily chaperoned and coupled with your timidness around the prince and Aemond's stiff demeanor. It turned out that Aemond's mastery of history and philosophy failed to equip him with the expertise of courting a woman.

Much to his dismay, the prince felt he had barely scratched the surface of you after four moons, but he considered it no matter, for he had a lifetime to explore your every facet.

One thing he did learn, however, was how you turned flustered so easily at his words, and how he reveled in making a beautiful woman blush.

On the night of your nuptials, Aemond had seen a shift in your usual doe-like eyes to something lush. The prince was grateful for having been granted his request to forego the bedding ceremony. You had made such pretty sounds for him, from the moment he sucked his first mark on your neck, to when your plush bosom was exposed to the dark room, up to when he stretched you out on his fingers, and ultimately, his cock. To have shared this moment with the debauched eyes of the others would be a great disgrace, and Aemond felt prideful of having witnessed such a reaction in his new wife. He saw a heady tinge glaze over your eyes when you had first spilled on his fingers, your confidence growing as you dug your nails into his shoulders while he thrust his hips into your weeping cunny. 

The morning after, his lady wife greeted him with a bashful smile, sweet as always. The evidence of your consummation merely existed in the marks on your neck and the blood-stained sheet discarded on the floor. On your second night, you had offered yourself to your husband, despite the terrible ache in between your thighs, but Aemond graciously declined, not wanting to have his wife too sore on the royal hunt that was to follow.

As the night went on and the nobility began to disperse from the royal tent to retire to their accommodation, Aemond found himself in his own pavilion, thinking about you. For the sake of propriety, you had been placed in a separate tent from your husband. He had bathed himself clean from the muck that clung to his pale skin, and changed into his night clothes to retire after almost two days of rigorous hunting. However, in the warmth from the small fire in his tent, Aemond felt a strange twinge in his chest. He felt the need to see you, perhaps even share the bed for the night. Aemond thought himself ridiculous, especially with the slight air of formality that still lingered between the two of you, but was a pull he felt, an odd need to be around you. And in the dead of night, the one-eyed prince, in all his formality and adherence to standards, let his feet guide him out of his tent to make the small walk towards yours. 

Your handmaiden was brushing your hair after helping you change into your nightgown when you heard a low voice through the tarp of your accommodation. You recognize it as your husband’s, and you had bid him to enter without hesitation. The maidservant made quick work to finish brushing your hair, before leaving with a bow when Aemond had entered. You turned to your prince, rising from your seat to greet him with a soft smile. The surprise on your face was evident, not expecting him to seek you out so late in a somewhat public environment. Perhaps he had a matter to discuss, one that could not wait until the morn.

Gods, was it about the dress?

“Is something the matter, lord husband?” you asked him. In the dim flicker of light from the small fire you had requested in your tent, Aemond’s good eye ran over the swell of your breasts, accentuated by the shadows. The prince cleared his throat, crossing his hands on his lower back.

“Should there be a matter at hand for me to see my wife?” he asked rhetorically. You blushed, flustered for having asked such a question. 

“Of course not,” you chuckled sheepishly, before approaching to hold him by the elbows, beckoning him to the fire. “Come.”

Your husband walked around the tent, studying the arrangements made for your accommodation. You walked over to the makeshift vanity they had provided, rubbing some oil into the ends of your hair to finish your nightly routine. 

“You were treated well in my absence, I hope?” Aemond spoke up. You turned to find him settled on the edge of your cot, leaning his weight on his palm.

“Oh, yes. Everyone has been kind... though quite curious I must say,” you answered, wiping away the residue on your fingers. Aemond raised an eyebrow at your words.

“About?”

You bit the inside of your cheek at his question, recalling the incessant prodding of the ladies of the court to learn more of how your husband has been thus far. You tried to answer the queries to the best of your abilities, though avoiding indulging too much in your husband’s private matters. That proved to be quite difficult, because the questions they asked the most were about his abilities in the marriage bed.

“About us. H-how our first night was and the like,” you stammered. You had no intent to lie to your husband, especially not so early in your marriage, but it still flustered you to discuss such matters. The corner of your husband’s lips quirked up in a smirk, and his eyebrow stayed raised as he continued to question you about the court’s inquisitiveness.

“And? What did you tell them?” He urged. Your fingers fiddled with the fringes of your robe, an anxious habit. You bit your lip while your cheeks turned pink, your mind struggling to find the words. 

“I told them it was quite… satisfactory,” you admitted, to which your husband responded with a hum.

“Satisfactory?”

“Well, I couldn’t really say much with your mother listening close by!” You all but squeaked, earning a low chuckle from the prince. He nodded his head slightly, satisfied with your answer. He rose from the cot, walking over to where you stood. Your head tilted up slightly as Aemond loomed over you, his good eye darkened to a dark amethyst from the lack of illumination in the tent. His smirk never fell, amused with how quickly you had grown flustered.

“And what did you really think about our first night, princess? Was it indeed satisfactory?” He asked. Your eyes tore away from him, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. They shifted around the room warily, focusing on anything but his piercing gaze, before giving him a meek nod. Two of his fingers lifted your chin back up to look at him, and he tilted his head slightly, raising his eyebrow to silently urge you to use your words. By your sides, your hands curled the fabric into your tight fists.

“Y-yes… more than that,” you admitted, warmth spreading all over your face up to the tip of your ears. Aemond merely hummed, his good eye raking over your features in thought.

To say your wedding night was satisfactory was a great understatement. As a girl, you had been taught whatever happened in the marriage bed was to be done under the grace of the Seven and with the utmost delicacy, it was your duty after all. To indulge in anything else would be a sin, and my, what a sweet sin it was. Your lord husband had managed to spurn sounds from you that you had never heard from your own lips. You had never been so overcome with such fire, such pulsing desire. He had touched you in ways that would have your Septa gasp in horror.

You had expected pain and a husband who would only do so much to get himself to spill his seed in your womb, yet there was little of that. Prince Aemond may not be the image of a romantic prince from the fairytales of your girlhood, but he had shown you a fire only a dragon can possess. He was as prolific of a lover as he was a scholar, and for a moment you had wondered how many women he had touched, licked, and sucked the way he did with you in order to become such a master in this art, though it mattered little. You were his woman now, and he was welcome to devour you however he liked. 

Your husband prepared you for what felt like hours, scissoring his deft fingers in your sweet cunt, his lips sucked on the stiff buds of your breast relentlessly, up until you were covered with a sheen of sweat before he finally took hold of your thighs and split you open with his cock.

He made you a quivering mess that night, spilling on his fingers and his cock beautifully. You were in awe at your own body’s response to his touch, your mind grew hazy the further you lost yourself in the throes of pleasure. When you had returned to your senses, he had wiped you clean and threw the furs over your naked body.

After having been exposed to him in the intimate enclosure of your marital chambers, you had wished to be kept in your new husband's embrace when you slept, but cordiality soon returned between the two of you. It was almost as if the events that had just passed were merely a dream, a fleeting expulsion of desire, and the night ended with you and Aemond lying on separate sides of the mattress.

The morning after, the quivering ache of your thighs served as a keepsake of your wedding night, and as much as you struggled to walk through the halls of the Keep, you found yourself craving more. On your second night, you had offered yourself to your prince, in hopes of being consumed by such fire again. To your dismay, your husband had refused, mostly because he watched you walk around with a slight limp all day and didn’t wish to put you in a further state of discomfort. On the third night, with Aemond having already departed for the hunt, you laid alone in your marital chambers, left to thoughts of your dragon prince.

Now, on your fourth night, your husband stood before you, his thumb caressing the plump flesh of your bottom lip. From his proximity, you could see how his pupil began to dilate, black threatening to overtake purple. 

“Are you still sore?” He asked in a low whisper. You shook your head lightly, careful not to shake off his grip, before whispering a soft ‘no’. With your words, his good eye flickered to meet your gaze for a second, before returning to your mouth. His head dipped down, capturing your lips in a kiss. You sighed, secretly in relief, at the feeling of his mouth upon yours once again. You let him guide you, following his pace as his tongue dipped into your cavern. The kiss was gentle, but getting your fill after going without his caress for two days made you breathless almost instantly. 

The both of you pulled away, and Aemond was tantalized at the sight of you. There it was, the change in your gaze. A look akin to hunger glazed over your orbs, and a flush ran across your cheek to the tip of your nose, your pink lips glistened with spit. He descended his lips onto your neck, replacing the fading marks on your neck with new ones. A soft whimper left you when your prince sucked on a spot that almost had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You softly caressed the back of his head, feeling the silky strands of silver under your fingertips.

Decency nagged in the back of your head, reminding you that despite the privacy provided by the pavilion, the thin tarp would do little to conceal any sound that would indicate to the guests your activities. 

“Aemond…” you breathed out. Your husband hummed against your skin, the vibrations of his voice shooting down straight to your core. “S-should we be doing this here?” 

Aemond lifted his head, pressing his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes as the warmth he exuded engulfed your entire being. “I do not see why not. We are alone, dear wife.”

“People will hear,” you reasoned. Your eyes opened to find him looking at you with an impish smirk, a sight so roguish in contrast to the formal prince you once knew.

“Let them hear. Why don’t we let them all know how diligent we are in doing our duty, hm?” He said, pulling away from you. You let him walk you backward, sitting on the edge of the cot when the back of your knees hit the wooden frame. Aemond bent to recapture your lips, his hand wandering down to cup your clothed breast. With frantic hands, you untied the robe covering your nightgown, shrugging it off to discard it off to the side. You had donned more modest apparel compared to the one you wore on your wedding night, sleeves much longer than the frail straps of the nightgown he had first seen you in. Still, the cotton was almost sheer, and the dark rings of your nipples were visible even in the dim light.

Next, you pulled Aemond’s tunic from his breeches, helping him pull off the garment. When he bent down to kiss you once more, your hands slithered to the back of his head. Your fingertips toyed with the clasp holding his eyepatch in place with the intention of taking the leather off, but his hand quickly covered yours, halting its ministrations.

“No,” was all he said. Aemond straightened back to his full height, looking down at you from the tip of his aquiline nose. You visibly gulped at the commanding aura that seemed to surround him, making you feel submissive, completely pliant to his will. Your thighs squeezed together to soothe the ache in your throbbing core, watching his long fingers untie the laces of his breeches. Before you were granted the sight of his long, beautiful cock, he grabbed either side of your waist to urge you to lie on your stomach. Your dragon grabbed a pillow, placing it underneath your abdomen to prop your hips up. Your heart thumped in anticipation, and your breath hitched in your throat when you felt the cool air kiss your rear when he lifted the hem of your nightgown. His large, calloused hands took hold of either cheek, spreading and squeezing the supple flesh of your rear. In between, your cunny started to glisten, tears of arousal dripping from your slit. 

A gasp left your lips when you feel his tongue swipe a hot strip down your opening, hearing him groan as he tasted your essence. He bestowed more licks to your cunt soon after, dipping into your slit to test. You pressed your face into the sheets in an attempt to muffle your whines, but in suppressing your responses, your hips started to squirm restlessly the more his tongue prodded at you. A squeal, one a little too loud to your liking, escaped you when your husband’s hand smacked your rear.

“Stay still,” he ordered, before diving back into your sweet cunt. You fisted the sheets in your hands, biting your lips hard when Aemond began fucking you with his tongue. The hot, wet muscle breached your walls deep in this position, much deeper than the first time. Breathless moans fell from your lips at the sensation of his mouth on your cunt, the act so utterly sinful and debauched. To your knowledge, you had never heard of any husband doing such a thing to his wife, more often than not hearing of the wife doing it to her husband instead. You silently thanked the gods for having bestowed you a husband unlike the others, a prince who took pleasure in giving you yours. 

A particularly loud moan filled the space when two of your husband’s fingers replaced his tongue, preparing you for his cock. Aemond stood back tall, his purple eye trained on the way your cunny swallowed his fingers, and the imprint of his hand that started to redden on your arse. You subtly moved your hips back to meet his hand, desperate for more.

“My, look at you, dear wife. I always thought you were a prim little thing, but here you are, fucking yourself on my fingers, moaning like some common whore,” he remarked. You whined at his words, embarrassment creeping up your spine, though you cared little, not when your lustful cravings for your husband clouded your mind. You craned your head to meet Aemond’s gaze from your position, catching the way he smirked out of the corner of your eye.

“Do you like it that much?” He asked, to which you nodded eagerly. You softly pleaded, ‘Please, husband’, and Aemond grunted in response.

“What is it you want, princess?” 

You propped yourself on an elbow, turning to face him, still on your stomach. Your eyes slightly widened to find his cock already exposed. He had been softly stroking it while fucking you with his fingers, evidently overcome with as much desire as you were. Now, his length sat heavy in his hand while he awaited your answer, tip flushed a deep red while it weeped a clear liquid.

“I want you, Aemond, all of you,” you made known. The prince let out another hum, before pulling his fingers out. You felt the mattress dip as he kneeled on the bed, caging you in between his legs. He propped himself on a hand by your side, the other holding his cock to line himself with your slit. Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt the blunt end of his cockhead press against your slit, letting out a whine when he breached your opening. His chest pressed against your back, the weight of his body on yours a welcome comfort. The prince’s breath was hot against the side of your face, and his deep groan echoed directly into your ear. He slid into your cunt inch by inch, tight walls hugging his length perfectly. He cursed under his breath when he finally bottomed out, lips pressing a kiss to your cheek as his nose nuzzled to inhale the scent of your sweet flesh.

“Gods above,” he groaned. His hips started to move with small, slow thrusts, still letting you adjust to the size of his impressive length. You whimpered, pressing your forehead against the bed while Aemond panted in your ear. “Such a tight fucking cunny. Perfectly made to take my cock, hm?”

“Yes, husband, it is all yours,” you moaned. As your walls started to relax, Aemond gained more space to thrust his length in and out of you. His pace began to pick up, the fabric of his breeches rubbing against your rear as his hips drove forward to meet yours. His cockhead kissed the tip of your cervix, causing a wave of pleasure to spread in your lower belly. 

Hearing Aemond’s grunts in your ear only spurned your arousal further. With his body covering yours, you felt him everywhere, from his breath that hit the side of your face, the fine hairs of his chest tickling the skin of your back, and the slapping of his hips against your plump flesh as he drove his cock into you relentlessly. His large hand crept up to intertwine with yours, holding your smaller hand tightly. The cot’s wooden frame began to creak at the sheer force of his thrusts, your body jerking as he fucked you mercilessly. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip to bite back the sobs that threatened to escape you, but your head was turned to the side to meet Aemond’s eager lips. He swallowed down the desperate moans that reverberated from you, before pulling away to press his damp forehead against the side of your burning cheek. 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, reverent and faithful, as your husband hurled you closer to your release. Aemond felt your walls start to tighten back up, pulsing, indicating the beginning of your release. His free hand sneaked in between your front, finding your pearl to stimulate. The circles rubbed on your nub only served to tighten the coil in your belly that threatened to snap, and your eyes clenched shut as your husband rendered you witless.

“Are you going to come for me, sweet wife?” He rasped in your ear. A chorus of whiny yesses fell from your lips, followed by more sobs.

Aemond felt a hot lick of pleasure deep within his belly, indicating his own climax was fast approaching. He drove his cock even harder into you, the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit at a lightning speed that began to cramp his forearm. He paid it no mind, determined to have you fall apart first. Your walls pulsed uncontrollably, squeezing and massaging his cock. Your nipples rubbed against the pillow underneath you, and with a particularly harsh thrust, you fell apart on Aemond’s cock. 

Your release washed over you like the tide, rendering you lightheaded as you spilled around your husband’s length. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, chasing his own end. Your legs bent to kick upwards as you began to squirm in overstimulation, though Aemond’s weight on your body prevented you from moving away. With one more thrust, then two, Aemond’s cock twitched in your cunt, before painting your walls with hot, white dragonseed. 

After he emptied his fill into your womb, your husband slumped in exhaustion, lying on top of you with his sweaty forehead pressed against your shoulder. Both of you took a moment to catch your breath, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You remained lying prone, eyes closed, as Aemond pulled out of you. You felt the mixture of your juices spill from your slit, whining when he pushed it back into your sensitive core with his finger. 

You opened your eyes to watch him walk off to grab a clean cloth to clean you with, pouring some water from a jug to soak the fabric. The damp material felt cool against your hot skin, still sheened with sweat. You shifted to lie on your back, turning to look at Aemond as he cleaned himself off. Your eyes ran down the ripple of fine muscle down his back, tracing the way his form tapered at the waist with your gaze.

“Will you stay?” You whispered, making him look at you. His good eye studied you, with your flush face and glistening skin. You looked at him with a gaze that made him feel warm inside, a feeling so strange and new. 

“Do you want me to?” He responded, to which you nodded yes. Throwing the rag on a basket, Aemond walked back to the cot, settling under the furs that you pushed back for him. Hesitantly, he lifted his arm to wrap around you, and you snuggled into his embrace without him having to ask.

It was quite pleasant, he realized, to have a wife to hold in his arms. And as you drifted off, he caressed your back soothingly, planting soft kisses on your forehead that you didn’t feel in your slumber. 

It was past the hour of the wolf when a sudden strong breeze in the night air drifted through the tent, causing you to stir awake to snuggle further into your husband’s warmth. A comforting warmth sparked in your heart to be in such a position, never having expected the prince to be one to cuddle at night. A satisfied sigh left your lips, before they pressed a soft kiss to the base of his neck.

You tilted your head up to cast a glance at him, letting out a small gasp when you caught the twinkle of a gemstone lodged into your husband’s left socket. The sapphire glinted like a star, reflecting the dying embers of the fire. Slowly lifting your hand to his face, your thumb softly caressed the indent of his scar, in awe of such beauty. You thought back to when he refused to remove his eyepatch earlier in the night, and you wondered why he chose not to flaunt such a mesmerizing sight. He must have slipped off the leather patch when you had descended into slumber.

In the short period you had come to know your husband, you had learned the loss of his eye was a pain he held in his heart. The small details Helaena had divulged caused an ache in your heart for the young boy that he was, and you understood why he harbored such grievance. To catch a small glimpse of the sapphire, albeit unintentionally, felt like an intrusion on the deepest part of Aemond's core, a peek of the well-hidden display of all his true glory.

Aemond slightly stirred from your touch in his face, causing you to pull away lest you disturb his sleep. You leaned to press a light kiss to his jaw, before going back to sleep with an affection in your chest that would only grow as the days went by.

In the morn, Aemond returned to his tent just as the dawn broke through the horizon. Few began to litter around, mostly setting up for everyone to break their fast before they departed back to the Red Keep. He dressed for the day, donning a dark green doublet, embroidered with dragons of gold thread. Afterwards, he walked over and peeked into your tent, finding you having your hair fixed by your handmaiden, still clad in your shift. Aemond left to let you finish getting ready, walking over to where his family began to gather around. Daeron and Aegon were already in playful banter despite the early hour, while Helaena sat with their mother, playing with a beetle she had found in the grass.

“Brother!” Daeron greeted, slapping Aemond on the back. The second son let out a warning grunt, to which the youngest only responded with a grin. “Where were you last night? We tried to find you, but you weren’t in your tent. We wanted to celebrate your nuptials, brother, Aegon had even snuck some jugs of Dornish wine into his tent!” 

“Ah, let him be, Daeron. He must have been taking a shit in the woods,” Aegon quipped, earning a hearty laugh from Daeron and a glare from Aemond. Alicent sighed, massaging her temples at hearing her son’s words.

“I was with my wife, Aegon. Perhaps you should check on yours,” Aemond retorted, eye glancing over to where their sister had wandered off to the trees to find more critters to add to her collection. The smile on Aegon’s face dropped, following his brother’s gaze.

“Boys, please, it is too early. Daeron, why don’t you come sit with me while Aemond fetches his wife? Aegon, don't let Helaena wander too far.” Upon their mother’s words, all three sons split up to walk off in different directions. Aemond walked back to your tent, just in time to catch you step out. His good eye slightly widened at the sight of you, beautifully dressed in a light blue garment of your homeland’s style. It was vastly different to the dress Rhaenyra had gifted you, but it suited you better. What caught his eye, however, was the shimmering jewelry paired to your dress. The gems of sapphire sparkled under the morning sun, sitting prettily on your chest and dangling from your ears. You gave Aemond a small smile, approaching him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Good morrow, lord husband,” you greeted him, caressing his cheek. Aemond muttered a greeting in return, still tantalized at how well you wore the stone. Pride swelled in his chest to see the marks he had left peek underneath the necklace, his possessiveness growing with well you wore the stone, clearly now marked as his. 

“How beautiful you are, dear wife,” he praised, causing you to blush as you expressed your thanks. His eye regarded you with fondness, a softness in his gaze that previously wasn’t there. Taking his hand in yours, Aemond let you intertwine your fingers as you walked hand in hand to greet everyone. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt the promise of something good coming to your marriage. You had never expected such delight to come your way when you were promised to the King’s second son, but as the days passed, you found yourself blossoming under the warmth of his presence. Indeed, good fortune shall come to your union.

#bella writes ✍️ #this is queued #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #hotd x reader

[thekinslayed]

Forget-Me-Not

summary | Aemond's devotion for his wife deepens as they navigate her recovery together

pairing | aemond targaryen x wife!reader

tags | fluff, hurt/comfort, memory loss, injury, ooc aemond

wordcount | 2k

note | something short and sweet because i was inspired by the little crumb we got today <3 (here's some info on the flowers mentioned!)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

song rec | My Jinji - Sunset Rollercoaster

(dividers by @saradika)

It was midday, and Aemond had been reading in their chambers after the council meeting when the door opened. She walked into the room and looked around, surprised as if unsure whether she was in the right place. She had been like this as of late, trying to grasp at her memories' first tingle of familiarity.

The prince’s lady wife had lost her memory when she fell off her horse during a riding accident. Her lord husband had been preoccupied with his duties on the King’s council, leaving her on her own most days. She took to the Kingswood with her Sworn Shield, relishing the feeling of the wind whipping at her face as they rode through the woods. Riding was something she had always loved to do as a girl, the memories of racing with her brothers through her homeland a sweet comfort to the foreign atmosphere in King’s Landing.

Perhaps she had gotten too excited, too greedy, when she urged her horse faster and faster until she disappeared from her knight’s midst. 

He had found her on the grass, horse nowhere to be found. It was unsure how the lady had fallen, but she had taken a great hit to her head from the impact. She looked like a forest nymph surrounded by bright flowers and green grass, hair falling around her like a halo, only if it weren’t for the streaks of blood that dripped down her temples.

When she had awakened, the princess was greeted by the sight of silver hair and a lone purple eye that watched her with worry. Her eyes shifted to the sapphire lodged into his other socket, curious as to how it got there. He was familiar to her, but she could not tell how she came to know him, her own husband. Aemond’s chest panged with hurt when his lady wife looked at him with a hazy confusion, her quaint voice muttering, “Who are you?”

Since that day, Aemond and his sweet wife had been on the path of trying to regain, or rather rebuild, her memories. 

“Hello,” She greeted him meekly. She was so shy to him now, much like she was before they were married. The princess had learned her husband loved her a great deal, and perhaps she shared a deep affection for him too, one that no amount of impact on her mind could erase. 

But how do you love a person you scarcely remember?

“Hello, my sweet,” He said to her softly. Aemond rose from his seat to approach her, giving her an embrace as he kissed her forehead. She timidly nuzzled into his arms, breathing in his scent. Teakwood and smoke, a scent that triggered a glimmer of familiarity in her otherwise foggy brain. She had made an effort to know her husband once more, making a mental list of what she liked about him.

'I like it when he holds me like this,' she thought, adding it to her list.

“Is everything alright?” He asked her, pulling away to look at her. Aemond ignored the slight twinge in his heart when she still regarded him with distance at times. He couldn’t find it within him to be cross with her, not when he blamed himself for her accident.

“I am alright, I tried to go for a walk in the gardens, but I… I’m afraid I cannot recall the way. A kind knight helped me back… one of the twins? Oh gods, I cannot remember his name either.” Her brows furrowed while she tried her hardest to remember the knight’s name. She bit her lip in concentration yet to no avail. 

“Ser Arryk?” Aemond hinted, to which she nodded in response.

“Right... Yes, Ser Arryk.” She trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. The dragon’s wife would often be like this as of late, a name or a scent would bring about hints of her past life, but as soon as she was able to grasp the memories in her hand, they would slip through her fingertips once more, lost in the blurry sea of her mind. With all her effort at trying to regain at least a single piece of memory, she found herself with headaches at the end of the day. It frustrated her to a great deal. 

Aemond knew how hard she struggled, and how much her memory weighed on her. It pained him to see her like this, even more, when he could do so little to help her. He tucked a loose hair behind her ear before cupping her chin. 

“Fret not, you will remember,” He reassured her, tone soft and warm.

“We will figure this out, you and I,” The prince promised her, the way he always did, with a determination in his voice and his heart. The idea that she might be lost forever terrified him, but she was still here, in his arms, and Aemond would have her any way he could.

“Thank you husband, for taking care of me,” She took this hand in hers, kissing the back of it in gratitude. At first, she had been wary of showing her affection, not quite remembering how. When she had seen how much Aemond cared for her and showered her with so much love, it didn’t take long for her to realize why her past self loved him greatly.

“Do you have time to walk in the gardens with me? I have been wanting for some fresh air,” She suggested shyly. She spoke so softly ever since the accident. When once she had been bubbly and exuberant, her wit had been replaced by a soft, yet curious wonder equal to that of a timid doe. 

“Of course,” Aemond replied, letting her take his hand in hers. He kissed her cheek, soft and sweet, a gentleness to him that was only ever reserved for her. “We can go anywhere you want.”

His lady wife let him lead the way to the gardens. As they walked, she tried her best to remember the twists and turns that led her down the steps of Maegor’s Holdfast. She realized the wrong turn she had earlier, which led her to another wing of the Keep where Ser Arryk had found her. 

“How pretty it is,” Aemond said as they entered the gardens. They welcomed the fresh air that breezed through the open space. The princess hummed in response as she felt a spark of familiarity in her chest of being in the gardens. What she did or who she was with, she could not recall, but that was alright. To see such things and be touched by the affinity of knowing was a good step forward.

They strolled through the gardens, the bright variety of flowers making her feel delighted to be surrounded by such beauty. She ran her fingertips on the ones that interested her, often stopping to smell some. Her eyes trained on a shrub filled with small, delicate blue flowers. 

As she stopped, her husband stopped right along with her. When Aemond turned to look at what his wife held in her hands, the sight of a familiar flower took him by surprise. Her favorite ones.

“Those are beautiful,” he said, with an amused smile. The blue spray of flowers was the same one he had gifted her throughout their courtship, a symbol of true and enduring love. 

His wife looked back at him with a familiar glint in her eyes. “They truly are, aren’t they?” She said, feeling the velvety surface of its petals against her fingertips. She hadn’t quite realized its significance to her and Aemond’s relationship, but she knew that she liked them.

“Do you know what they are called?” Her lord husband asked curiously. His good eye studied her face as she pondered, a glimmer of hope rose in his chest. 

“Forget-me-not,” She answered.

Aemond hummed in response, grinning with delight. They continued to walk hand-in-hand through the gardens, his lady wife swinging their hands. In any other case, he would not have allowed this, the formal man he was, but he let her, seeing the pleasant mood she was in. Conversation flowed between them, comfortable and light. The princess could sense when her husband would mention topics that could trigger her memory, and she tried to indulge him as much as she could. 

Aside from the couple that roamed the gardens, some lords and ladies of the court had also taken advantage of the pleasant weather. The sun shone brightly after days of cloudy gloom casting its shadow upon King’s Landing. 

The princess felt the stares at her and her husband, more so at her. She had been subject to their gazes ever since the incident. Most would look at her with pity for her circumstances, some with wonder as to how her and Aemond’s marriage still held strong. She did not miss the malicious stares from the ladies her age, no doubt thinking that the prince would soon tire of having to nurse his fragile wife.

Poor Prince Aemond, how ever could he endure having such a blank and empty shell of a wife?

The princess’ free had clutched Aemond’s arm, ducking her head with insecurity as they passed a group of nobles.

“They all stare,” she said lowly. Aemond sighed, caressing the back of her hand on his elbow comfortingly. 

“They do,” he said softly. He gave a sharp stare to the people they passed, leading his wife away. It was difficult to discount the looks they gave her, reminding him of his own experience when he had lost his eye. It angered him that they’d be so unkind to his wife, after all she’d been through. “We cannot worry about what they think of us, my love,” he comforted her.

She merely hummed in response, somewhat unconvinced. They continued their walk with her head ducked low, her bright spirit from earlier now dissipated.

Aemond led her to a secluded area, where they sat on a stone bench overlooking Blackwater Bay. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to plant a kiss on her forehead. “You must not let them bother you, dear wife,” he said against her skin. His wife let out a heavy sigh, leaning her head against his. 

“Do you not think of me a burden?” She mumbled, fingertips toying with the ends of his starlit hair. The guilt she felt for having imposed such an inconvenience on her lord husband weighed on her heavily. He was a prince of the realm, and he had no time to play healer to his own wife.

“No, never,” He emphasized, looking down to meet her eye. A large, calloused hand cupped her jaw. His thumb caressed her cheek while she leaned into his touch. 

“The circumstances given to us may not be the most favourable, yes, but I almost lost you, my love. I would have fought the Stranger with my own sword to have you returned to my side,” Aemond professed. Tears pricked at the corner of his wife’s eyes, her lips quivered from his overwhelming love. A single tear trailed down her cheek but was wiped away in haste by the prince’s thumb.

“What anyone else thinks or feels about you is not our concern. You are my concern,” he asserted, staring at her with adoration. The princess sniffled, before nodding to her husband, a whisper of thanks falling from her lips. Her eyes met his amethyst one, committing the sight of him lovingly in her memory. 

Hesitantly, she reached a hand to cup his cheek, before leaning forward to plant a soft peck on his lips. She liked the feeling of his lips, she decided. Her lips planted another kiss on his once more, deep and passionate. They kissed until she was out of breath, having to place a hand on her chest, panting.

In the following days, the princess awakened to a vase filled with blue forget-me-nots on her bedside table. She spent her time by her husband’s side, and when he was away she would indulge in different pursuits that pleased her. Fragments of her past had started to return to her, while some would forever be lost. She did not mourn this loss, for she had found that the new ones she shared with Aemond were filled with the same fondness. Falling for her husband the second time around did not require great difficulty to achieve, not when he made it so easy for her to love him.

#bella writes ✍️ #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #hotd x reader

[thekinslayed]

Give You My Lovin’

summary | It takes little effort for your boyfriend, Aemond, to drive you insane.

pairing | modern aemond targaryen x girlfriend!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, blowjob, naughty thoughts, aemond is So Fucking Hot, attempt at drunk sex, alcohol intoxication, spit kink, daddy kink, unexpectedly fluffy at the end!

wordcount | 3.3k

note | a little something to start your week! i need modern aemond astronomically bad. in ways concerning to feminism.

song rec | Give You My Lovin - Mazzy Star

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated! i am open for fic requests <3

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

When you first started dating your boyfriend, Aemond, you had never felt so greedy for someone the way you did for him. You just couldn't get enough of him– his hair, scent, innate confidence, and that face, gods, that was a face you would certainly go to war for. You were insatiable, and so was he. Many dates had been cut short because both your hands started wandering a little too much, or a look from him would immediately have your skin on fire and end up with you pulling him out the door to rush home. 

And after 3 years of dating, it was safe to say this man still had you feral from every little thing he did, even without the intention of doing so. 

It was early, too early even, to be feeling this way. You both had just woken up in your shared apartment, having a slow morning on your day off. With having lived together for more than a year now, you and Aemond had established your respective routines at home. At this time, both of you should have been out on a morning run, but your activities from last night left a terrible ache in your thighs which had you both staying in that morning. You were still in bed, leaning on the headboard, watching Aemond do pull-ups on the bar by the doorframe. He was only clad in his plaid pajama bottoms, and his back was turned to you, giving you a perfect view of the way his back muscles rippled with every movement. Your eyes watched as the veins on his forearms bulged every time he lifted himself. His arm muscles were well-defined and toned, waist trim, and shoulders wide. Years of calisthenics blessed your boyfriend with a lean, lithe form. He was tall, the tallest in his family, blessed with long legs and a model-like figure. There have been countless moments where girls would come up to your boyfriend in hopes of charming him, but sweet, faithful Aemond only had eyes for his girl.

He puffed out a breath of air with every rep, and droplets of sweat started to run down his back from the sheer exertion. You had lost track of how long he had been doing this, but you weren’t complaining. As he dropped back to his feet, he rolled his shoulders back, letting out a groan. The sound alone went straight to your core, which had been throbbing restlessly while watching him work out. He turned around to face you, and you bit your lip at the sight of his bare chest, sprinkled with light hair. His abs were incredibly well-defined, and you resisted the urge to run your finger down the bumps of defined muscle on his abdomen. How the hell does one even get an eight-pack? 

“Baby?”

“Hm?” You hummed, snapping out your trance. The corner of Aemond’s thin lips quirked up when he caught you shamelessly staring at him, and his eye didn’t miss the way you subtly rubbed your thighs together underneath the blankets.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked amusedly, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Mm… no,” you said sheepishly. Aemond chuckled, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed by your side.

You could smell the sweat off his skin, the heat radiating from his flesh warmed you through the blankets. Your cheeks blushed as you caught the sight of a lone droplet of sweat on the tip of his aquiline nose, right on the cleft. His hand rubbed the side of your thighs, sending a spark that ran up your spine. All of your sense were gone as your blood rushed to your cunt, rendering your mind cloudy aside from the fact of how much you want to fuck.

Shit, were you ovulating?

“Y’alright?” He asked, his good eye studying your face.

“Mhm,” you merely nodded, not trusting your own voice to form words at that moment. He smirked, knowing full well the kind of thoughts running through your head. Aemond leaned his face closer to yours, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Really? ‘Cos you got a little drool here,” He teased you, playfully wiping the corner of your mouth. You slapped his hand away, rolling your eyes as he bellowed out a laugh, though you couldn’t resist the way your lips tugged into a smile. You furrowed your eyebrows to feign anger, grasping his wrist to pull him on top of you.

“Enough of that, come here!”

It was half past 1 a.m. when Aemond opened the front door to the sight of you, drunkenly leaning on your friend who struggled to keep you on your feet. You had been out for girls’ night, and your boyfriend had patiently waited for you at home while you were out. He took you into his arms, thanking your best friend for safely taking you home, before shutting the door behind you both. 

“Aem,” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. Through your drunken haze, you feel a kiss planted on your hair, smoothing out the strands that had gotten messed up.

“Hi, baby,” Aemond greeted you, rubbing the exposed flesh on your waist. “Did you have a good time?”

You hummed as you nodded, leaning on the wall while Aemond bent down to take off your shoes. You had a fun night with your girls, perhaps a little too fun. The lightweight that you were, it only took you a couple of cocktails to have you warm and loose. Though sometime through the night you had started to miss your boyfriend, the fuzzy feeling from the alcohol going straight to your core as you thought about what he was up to.

Aemond guided you through your home with a hand on your waist, slowly taking steps forward while you leaned your weight on him. As you reached the living room, you turned your body towards him, wrapping both arms around his torso, and looking up at him with your chin on his chest. 

You let out a deep affectionate sigh as you stared at him through dizzy, blurry eyes. He was wearing his glasses, having been busy reading while he waited for you to come home. The thin frames sat on his perfect nose, the sight sending a warm flutter across your chest. How he made glasses look so fucking hot, you had no idea.

“I missed you,” You confessed, rubbing a hand on his chest. Aemond smiled at your words, leaning down to plant another kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you too, darling. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” he suggested, though you only whined and planted your feet on the floor.

“I need you, Aem,” You said, gripping on his bicep. Your nipples were hard against the thin fabric of your top, poking at Aemond’s chest as you pressed yourself against him. Your boyfriend only sighed, shaking his head slightly as he knew what you were up to. Truth be told, you were always needy for him. Your heart thumped heavily with yearning for his touch, his warmth, and that only amplified when you weren’t sober.

“No, baby, you know we can’t,” Aemond refused. It went against every fiber of his morality-driven being to take pleasure from you while you were intoxicated. His mother would be horrified if he did, reprimanding him that you were a woman, and every woman must be respected as she was the image of the Mother. 

But gods, you were irresistible when you were needy. 

You stomped your foot childishly at his refusal, grabbing his hand to guide it up your skirt. Your grip was surprisingly strong despite your intoxicated state, forcing his fingers past your panties where your cunt dripped with arousal, just for him.

“Please, Daddy, I need you so bad,” You cried out, hiding your face in his neck. Aemond could feel his resolve faltering as his cock jumped from how your slick coated his fingertips. He gulped, pulling his hand away from your core and wiping it away.

His large hands cupped your face, prompting you to look at him. Aemond’s heart twinged at the frown on your pink lips, your cheeks still adorably flushed from the liquor you had consumed. 

“It wouldn’t be right, with you drunk while I’m sober.” He explained, rubbing at your jaw affectionately. Some hair fell into your face, and his fingers tucked them behind your ear.

“I’m not drunk!”

“Okay, alright,” A chuckle fell from Aemond’s lips at your protest, before planting a kiss on your nose. “How about tomorrow, hm? I’ll spend the entire morning making it up to you if you still feel up for it.” A defeated sigh left your lips, accepting you won’t be able to convince him tonight. 

Damn you, Alicent, for raising such a perfect son.

You let Aemond guide you to the bathroom, where he helped you change into your pajamas before cleaning your face. He knew how much you would regret it if you went to be with a dirty face, so he clipped away your hair before removing your makeup himself. He held your hair back in one hand as you washed your face, a towel ready in the other. Your boyfriend patted your face dry and then applied your skincare products. The liquid felt cool against your flushed skin, your eyes comfortably closing as you let him take care of you.

The cold water on your face had helped you sober up a bit, and as you opened your eyes, the sight of Aemond’s concentrated face greeted you. The man took everything in his life quite seriously, even something so mundane as helping his darling girl clean her face after a drunken night out. You huffed out a chuckle, prompting him to meet your eyes.

“What’s funny?” he asked, but only getting a shake of the head as a response from you. Your hand grabbed his wrist, stopping his hand’s ministrations. You leaned forward to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.

“Baby,” Aemond tsked, pulling away from you. His good eye met yours, which shined with affection for him. His heart fluttered at the beauty that stood before him, giving you a small smile in return to your shy one. 

You were guided to your shared bedroom after brushing your teeth, sinking into the soft mattress as your exhaustion caught up to you. In the darkness of your home, your tired body turned to snuggle into Aemond’s arms. You let out a content sigh, whispering ‘I love you’ into your beloved’s skin.

The sound of Aemond’s breathless moans filled the room as they fell freely from his lips. He was sitting on the couch, boxers dropped to his ankles as your head bobbed up and down his length. Your hair was gripped tight into a ponytail in one hand while the other gripped the armrest of the couch tightly. The movie on your television was completely forgotten, only serving as background noise while you sucked your boyfriend’s cock. It drowned out the wet slick sounds coming from your mouth as Aemond continued to thrust his hips up, chasing his release. 

He cursed under his breath when your hand came up to fondle his balls, throwing his head back as you hurled him closer to his precipice. Before the knot in his stomach could snap, he pulled you away from his cock, hurling you up from your knees and onto the couch.

Aemond pulled off your shorts and panties in one go, before turning you around to drape your upper body on the arm of the couch. You could only gasp when he entered you in one swift motion. His hips pounded into you mercilessly, giving you no time to catch your breath as you moaned. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as his cockhead bullied your sweet spot deliciously.

“Aemond,” You wailed, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. The sound of skin slamming onto each other overlapped with the movie soundtrack as the credits started to roll, though both of you still paid it no mind. 

Aemond let out a groan, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. Your cunt throbbed as you heard him pant and grunt in your ear. His hands clutched your hips with a grip that was sure to leave marks, while his pace was still relentless, never faltering.

“Ha, so fucking tight. Perhaps I should fuck this pussy more, hm? Give it more attention?” He grunted in your ear. You whimpered at his words, walls clenching in excitement at the thought. “Yeah? You like that, baby?”

“Fu- yes, Daddy,” You whined shamelessly. Aemond let out a dark chuckle, planting a kiss on your temple before sitting back on his haunches. He pulled out his cock to manhandle you onto your back, before thrusting into you again to continue fucking you into release. Your leg draped over the back of the couch while the other was gripped tightly in Aemond’s hand. You lowered your hand to rub circles into your clit, but your boyfriend slapped it away to rub it himself. His thumb drew fast, hard circles onto your pearl, making your toes clench as it tightened the coil in your belly. You were so close, and Aemond could feel it with the way your walls spasmodically tightened around his cock. 

You could feel your climax threaten to wash you over, and as your moans only grew louder in pitch, Aemond’s hips thrust into you harder and harder. A chorus of ‘uh, uh, uh’s helplessly fell from your lips as you felt yourself being sunken deeper into the plush couch. 

A hand came up to the armrest above your head to ground yourself when Aemond took both of your thighs and pressed them against your chest. Your tailbone lifted into the air as your body folded in half like a doll. Aemond watched your eyebrows furrow and your jaw fall open, before clutching your cheeks to spit into your mouth. He gave you a praising pat when you swallowed, and continuing to rub your clit once more. His good eye stayed on yours which had grown dazed as you lost yourself in the throes of your pleasure.

As his hips continued to thrust into you in tandem with the circles he drew on your pearl, your thighs began to shake when you felt the beginning of your release. You let out a long whine, clutching onto Aemond’s bicep as you spilled around his cock. The man above you groaned as your walls squeezed his length, prompting his release. Curses continued to fall from his lips as your spasming walls milked him dry. 

You felt boneless as you caught your breath after your climax. The weight of Aemond’s body was a welcome comfort as he collapsed on top of you, equally as breathless. His softening cock remained in your pussy which had only begun to slowly stop its spasms. The combination of your juices dripped around his cock, running down your slit and onto the couch. You reminded yourself to clean your mess later, but with Aemond still lying on top of you, you remained motionless as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

The glare of the television was still bright against your closed eyelids, which had redirected to the menu after long minutes of inactivity. You opened your eyes to the blinking reminder,

'Still watching?'

The sun shone brightly as you lounged by the courtyard in the Targaryen mansion. You and Aemond had visited for the weekly brunch organized by his mother as a chance to see her children. You loved driving up to their family home, relishing in the chance to get away from the bustling city for a moment in the quiet farmland the historic manor sat upon. Beside you, was Helaena, who indulged you with the latest gossip at the veterinary hospital she worked at.

“People saw them leave together for their break, and they were gone for more than an hour!” She exclaimed, wildly waving her martini glass around. Despite your interest in the juicy details Helaena divulged, you could only half listen to her words as you mindlessly sipped on your martini. Your focus was on a sight by the grass, where your boyfriend played with his nephews and niece. He let the children roughhouse him, rolling around in the grass as they climbed up on top of him. Aemond had always had a sweet spot for his sister’s children, while his own heart longed for babes of his own. Your heart warmed as gleeful laughter and shrieks echoed through the air, chuckling as you watched the tall silver-haired man fall helplessly to the children’s mercy. You hadn’t even noticed when Helaena stopped talking, your good friend only watching the lovestruck look on your face as your attention was fully on Aemond.

“Have you guys talked about it yet?” She asked. You tore your gaze away from the grass, turning to the woman beside you.

“About what?” you responded, clueless as to what she was referring to.

“Y’know, having kids, getting married,” she indicated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You blushed at her words, downing the cocktail in your hand before fidgeting with the stem of the glass.

“Uh, a little bit? I-I mean I want to have kids with him for sure, but… I don’t know if we’re ready yet,” You stammered, flustered with her abrupt question. Your gaze returned to your boyfriend, who had now risen to his feet, carrying all three children. Jaehaerys and Maelor clung to his legs, while Jaehaera was carried on his back. They all squealed in delight as Aemond trudged through the grass, slow and careful to not drop them. Your heart warmed at the sight, mind helplessly wandering to the thought of him being a father to your own kids. He’d expressed his want for children, often in the form of whispering his intent to breed you and leave you full of his seed during sex. But those are uttered in the heat of the moment.

Still, you can’t help but yearn for the moment when you would finally vow to be his forever and to have a family of your own.

Aemond managed to walk back to where his brothers stood without any of the children falling off. Upon seeing Aegon crouched with open arms, the boys let go of their uncle’s legs to run to him. The elder Targaryen managed to catch both boys, carrying them in his arms with no complaint. He turned to his younger brother, who shifted sweet Jaehaera from his back.

“Your girl looks like she could eat you any second, brother,” Aegon commented, eyes flickering to where you lounged with Helaena. Daeron snickered, covering his lips with the bottle of beer he held when Aemond shot him a look.

“You can’t say that in front of the kids, Aegon,” Aemond reprimanded. The children paid the adults no mind, having asked to be put down again to run off and play in their little playground. 

“Y’know Mum’s asking for more grandkids? Said she wasn’t getting any younger,” Daeron said, wiggling his eyebrows at his older brother. Despite his mother’s young age, Alicent loved being a grandmother and was constantly dreaming for more grandchildren, often directing the request to her favorite son every time she brought it up. She absolutely adored you and has been treating you as her own daughter since early into your and Aemond’s relationship. 

“Yeah I know, I’m working on it,” Aemond sighed wistfully, snatching Daeron’s beer to take a swig, despite the youngest’s protest.

Aemond turned to where you sat, giving you a wave when you flashed him a sweet smile. He felt happy to see you with his family, especially with his mother and sister, who were both the most important women in his life. It felt right, having you here. He could see a future with you in it, and babes of your own to play with. Truth was, Aemond was more than ready. He would take you down to city hall to marry you right away the moment you asked. He would give you the grandest of weddings, however you liked it.

However, it couldn’t be just up to him. If you needed time, he would respect it, and if you decided that marriage wasn’t for you, well, what else could he do?

Still, the longing weighed heavily in his chest, as did the ring that sat in his pocket.

#bella writes ✍️ #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen #modern aemond #aemond smut #aemond fluff #ewan mitchell #hotd x reader

[thekinslayed]

Étoile

summary | Aemond Targaryen has found himself a new star.

pairing | ballet master!aemond targaryen x ballerina!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, oral (m), semi-public, slight dubcon, mirror sex, power imbalance, coercion, aemond’s kinda manipulative, slight age difference (reader is in her early 20s, Aemond is in his mid-30s)

wordcount | 4.6k

note | ah finally, some use for a decade and a half worth of ballet training 🙂‍↕️ i may or may not have written this after watching challengers, so aemond is very mildly inspired by tashi.

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

(divider by @aqualogia)

The air in the studio was humid with sweat as dancers glided through the floor accompanied by the soft tunes of the piano. Your limbs ached with exertion, your toes cramped in your pointe shoes, yet you continued, turning and leaping with the others as you performed the routine. Your ballet master kept a close eye on everyone, throwing out corrections to every dancer while he stood tall. Everyone was putting in the extra effort, dancing as though they were performing in front of the largest audience. There was a clear tension in the air, brought about by the Paris Opera Ballet’s newest ballet master, Aemond Targaryen.

He was tough, highly critical, and was known to send dancers out the door in tears, but he was one of the best. It was known among your peers he was looking to cast dancers for his repertoire, hence the reason why everyone was on edge during his class. 

You couldn’t help the way goosebumps rose on your skin wheneve his eye fell on you, silently willing yourself not to mess up in front of the silver-haired man. You paid extra attention to the finer details of your movements, your mind running an extra mile to keep yourself in check.

Shoulders down. Shift that weight forward. Deep plié. Eyes on your spot, and turn.

Aemond gave you an approving nod as you successfully landed your quadruple pirouette, two extra than what you normally do. You kept your face neutral and composed, despite the glee bursting through your chest. A nod was a high praise in the ballet world, even more so from the stoic Targaryen, and you mentally patted yourself on the back for not falling on your face. Perhaps he would consider you for a role, one where you wouldn’t be lost in the mass of tutus and other dancers in the background. You were a coryphée, second to last in the company's hierarchy, and you had been desperate to rise through the ranks and prove yourself to your superiors. With the arrival of the young ballet master, whose good eye kept shifting towards you as you continued to dance, you had a good feeling your golden opportunity would soon fall into your lap.

Two claps echoed through the studio, cutting through the soft music of the piano. You halted your movements, turning to your ballet master who had paused your rehearsal.

“Not quite, try that again,” he ordered. You and your dance partner, Tomás, returned to your previous position, moving through the choreography to Aemond’s direction as the piano started once more. You were both slick with sweat, breaths equally panting as you continued your rehearsal for Le Parc.

It was a classic piece of the Paris Opera Ballet, a crowd favorite, and you had been bestowed the honor of performing the piece after being cast by the Targaryen himself. It was safe to say the rehearsal wasn’t going well, after only having danced the first two minutes of the nine minute piece in the three hours you had been in the rehearsal studio. Both you and Tomás were under immense pressure, one that only grew with every dissatisfied look and a shake of the head from your ballet master. The danseur beside you was rumored to be up for a nomination to be the company’s next étoile– the star, top of the ballet food chain. One cannot simply climb the ranks through time and effort to be an étoile, they had to be chosen by one of the ballet masters, and what better chance would one have than getting chosen by the Aemond Targaryen himself? Hence the agitation Tomás emanated, its sticky heat rubbing off on you.

“Ah, come on,” your dance partner grunted, sighing when you had failed to grab his arms to be lifted from the air. The pianist stopped playing with another raise of a hand from Aemond, who stayed seated in his seat in front of the mirror. You mumbled an apology, anxiously looking to the silver-haired man who had stood up from his seat. He approached the pair of you, his stance intimidating as was his gaze when he regarded both of you.

“The preparation for the lift is all wrong, Tomás,” he reprimanded. Aemond gestured for the young danseur to step aside, taking his place. The ballet master gestured for you to repeat the movement, and obeyed. You took a step before jumping, turning mid-air before being caught into Aemond’s arms. His grip was tighter than Tomás, more sure. You felt safe while being lifted, your whole body pressed against his taut chest.

“You have to hold her tight. Keep her stable, yes?” Aemond emphasized. He continued to hold you flush to his chest with ease, showing Tomás the exact position he wanted you to to end in.

“How’d that feel?” The silver-haired man asked you, his hot breath fanning the side of your face. He carefully placed you back on your feet, keeping his hand on your waist until you were able to stand. Slightly flustered from thay singular touch, you timidly pushed back the loose strands of hair on your face to look at him.

“Uh, good! Pretty stable,” you squeaked. His touch left a warm imprint on your flesh, lingering even after Aemond walked back to his seat.

“Alright, now try it on your own,” the Targaryen urged. The music started back up, and you tried the lift again with Tomás. You earned a low ‘good’ from Aemond when you had done the lift a little more successfully with his guidance, though the difference in the men’s grip was evident.

You continued on with the rehearsal, flowing through the choreography with Tomás under Aemond’s watchful eye. He caressed his chin as he kept a close eye on your movements, signalling to the pianist to pause when either of you did a step not to his liking. With every partnering trick that came up, Aemond made sure to show Tomás, standing from his chair to turn, hold, and lift you before urging the younger danseur to try. About halfway through the piece, his grip on your body had grown familiar, with the way his large palm covered the expanse of your waist, his touch firm on your thigh, and the featherlight caresses on your arm.

After the endless corrections and directions from Aemond, he made you start from the top once more. You took slow breaths as you presumed your initial position, pacing yourself as you started off the dance with a few counts where danced alone. It was going smoothly, miraculously enough, but you must have jinxed yourself because as you shifted to turn, you felt it. A sharp pain shot up your ankle, making you stop and drop to the floor in an instant. You clutched your ankle, hissing in pain. In a blink of an eye, Aemond was by your side, kneeling beside you.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Let me see,” he urged, his tone now softer as he looked at you in concern. It was an old injury, a sprain from the start of your career that continued to haunt you now and then. You shook your head at the silver-haired man, before pushing yourself off the floor.

“It’s fine, Mister Targaryen. This always happens,” you reassured him, waving him off. Aemond stood back to his full height, gripping your elbow to steady.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup, I’m sure. Let’s continue,” you said, keeping the tone of your bright to reassure the silver-haired man before you. However, you could barely take a step forward without hissing in pain, your right ankle unable to bear the weight of your body. Aemond was quick to catch you before you stumbled, and you held onto both of his biceps. They were ridiculously firm under your touch, and if you weren’t in an immense amount of pain you would have ogled at the way they flexed underneath your palms.

“This won’t do, darling. I think this is enough for the day for the two of you,” Aemond sternly ordered, wrapping your arm around his shoulder to keep you stable.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tomás grumbled, frustrated with the interruption. Aemond’s eye shot up to the young man, his gaze sharp after hearing his complaint.

“Don’t give me that attitude when you can barely do a decent menáge. Now get the fuck out of my studio.”

You jolted at the sudden rise in Aemond’s voice, watching as Tomás practically shrunk in his skin, hurriedly turning around to grab his bags and leave the studio while the man beside you glared at the young dancer sharply. The moment the door shut behind Tomás, Aemond turned back to you, his gaze now rid of the harshness it had carried.

“Let’s get you to the therapy room, yeah?” He softly urged. When it had still been too mich for you to walk with his support, Aemond swiftly lifted you with his arms underneath your body, carrying you bridal style. Your face burned with embarrassment with having to be carried off by your strict, ridiculously hot ballet master this way, but he had been gentle with you.

Aemond stayed by your side as the physical therapist massaged the joint. His good eye watched you when your face contorted into one of discomfort when your ankle was rotated. You had thanked him profusely for his aid, and had tried to reassure him you were good to be left alone, but the silver-haired man stayed by your side silently, keeping a close eye on you.

You had been out of commission for three days, which you spent anxiously anticipating to be dropped from the role by your ballet master. You were done for, you decided. You had blown your chance, pathetically so in front of Paris Opera’s most influential ballet master. 

As soon as you were cleared to return to rehearsals, you immediately jumped to your feet and practicing on your own. You went through the choreography over and over, finetuning your movements as you watched yourself in the mirror. It was late at night and you were the only one left in the building, or at least, you thought you were.

The door to the studio you occupied flew open, making you jump when the silver-haired man casually walked into the room. You stopped in your tracks, heart racing as he regarded you, seemingly unsurprised after finding you.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Aemond said, his smooth voice cutting through the music you plugged into the speakers. 

“The doctor cleared me for rehearsals, Mister Targaryen,” you explained, to which he only responded with a hum. His good eye ran over your form, which was only clad in a leotard and athletic shorts. Your hair was down, as it was supposed to be in Le Parc, and your face was flushed from exertion, damp with sweat. Aemond took slow steps towards you with his hands clasped behind his back, meeting you in the middle of the room. 

“You need to take better care of yourself, you know. A tear in your ligament is a tear forever,” he spoke, coming to tower in front of you. It was then you became insecure of your appearance, with your messy hair and sweaty face compared to his well-kept appearance. Your eyes stared into his good one, the other a cloudy white. He was incredibly handsome up close, this you realized, the sight of his sculptured jaw and aquiline nose making you visibly gulp. Your gaze dropped to his thin lips, which pursed before opening to speak once more. 

“Yes, I know, Mister Targaryen, I’m sorry,” you muttered, tearing your gaze away to the floor. Two fingers placed themselves on the bottom of your chin, moving your head to look at him once more.

“Why are you apologizing?” Aemond asked. Your cheeks warmed as you stammered, unable to form a response. Truthfully, you were unsure why, perhaps it was for his disappointment for having hurt yourself, or for not having lived up to his expectations. The words you scrambled to find died on your lips when Aemond brushed a stray hair away from your face, before cupping you chin between his fingertips.

“I am only looking out for you. The Paris Opera may have some of the best rehab therapists under our roof, but some injuries just cannot be healed,” he said. Your eyes flickered to his cloudy eye, the rumors of his injury running through your mind. 

You had heard in the past of the child protégé that was Aemond Targaryen, a young star destined for greatness. His family was descended from royalty and had been dancing in the King’s courts during the early formation of ballet. It was safe to say the young Targaryen was on his way to becoming one of the biggest stars in the ballet world, winning competitions left and right, receiving offers from the most prestigious ballet schools– Vaganova, Bolshoi, Joffrey, they all wanted him. The young danseur knew this was his legacy, to forge his name with the brightest stars in the ballet world. However, ballet was a deathly competitive sport, and dancers would do anything to climb the ranks, this Aemond had learned the hard way.

At 16, he had landed himself a spot as a finalist for the Prix de Lausanne, the most prestigious competition in the world, just a month before he was to fly off to Russia for training. It was the night before finals, he had been resting in his hotel room when a group of rowdy, inebriated dancers had knocked upon his door, wanting a glimpse of the famous silver-haired danseur. The details of the night remained unclear to the public to this day, but it was said that they had cornered the young Targaryen in his room, engaging in a scrapple that ended with Aemond rushed to the hospital, clutching his bleeding eye. That night, Aemond Targaryen’s dancing career met its tragic end. The ballet companies that once begged for him no longer wanted a scarred dancer who was blind in one eye, and his legacy had been reduced to nothing but a sad story.

And now, the silver-haired man stood before you, clutching your face as he studied your features. You were surely too close to each other to be considered appropriate, even more so when his free hand found its way to the dip in your waist, his warmth exuding through the fabric of your leotard. 

“I don’t want to have to see you take your final bow before you reach the top,” he said lowly, his face subtly dipping an inch closer to yours. Your eyes slightly widened at his words, staring into his good eye for any sign of insincerity; you found none.

“You think I can reach the top?” you asked in disbelief, heart hammering in your ears. The corner of Aemond’s lips quirked upwards, his hand squeezing the flesh on your hip.

“Of course, you are one of the company’s most promising dancers,” he said, nodding lightly. You preened at his words, biting your lip as a big smile threatened to break out on your features. Your eyes fell to your fingers, fiddling with them as you turned shy at the ballet master’s high praise. The silver-haired man breathed out a chuckle at your reaction, his hand on your chin caressing the back of your head before settling on the nape of your neck. 

“However,” he voiced, making you look back up at him. His face turned serious, making your own smile drop at his change of tone. “You have to go above and beyond to be nominated by your superiors. We have many talented dancers, many of whom are trying to climb the ranks, just like you. You have to make yourself stand out from the rest, do you understand?”

You nodded your head eagerly at him, your eyes displaying your sheer determination. “Yes, I understand, Mister Targaryen. I’m willing to do anything,” you said. There was a shift in Aemond’s eye when you uttered those words, the blues of his good eye brewing something darker. The grip on your waist turned tighter, shifting to rest on the small of your back as he pulled you in close.

“Anything?” he whispered.

“Y-yes, anything,” you replied. It was then you had begun to doubt your words, even more so when Aemond merely stared at you, his gaze analytic. A shudder ran up your spine when his eye dropped to your lips. A hum vibrates from his chest, and then he was pulling away from you, the warmth that engulfed you dissipating into a chill.

“Good. Now, why don’t we start from the top?” Aemond suddenly said, taking you by surprise. He raised his eyebrows at you, urging you to restart the music. You scrambled to where your phone was plugged into the speakers, restarting the music, before taking your starting position. Aemond positioned himself where the male dancer started, right in the center facing you. Your eyebrows furrowed while you did your first movements, clearly not expecting him to dance with you.

“You’re dancing with me?” you asked, confused. He merely smirked at you, watching you slowly move to the music towards him.

“Of course, you need to have a partner for this one, don’t you?”

The moment you touched him, Aemond started to move along with you. You flowed around him, soft and gentle. His moves were fluid, with textbook perfect technique and beautiful artistry. It was clear Aemond knew the choreography by heart, dancing along with you with ease. You subtly watched him through the mirror, amazement clear in your eyes. You were dancing with the Aemond Targaryen, being held and lifted by his strong hands. He danced like he had never left, flowing through the soft music while still clad in his boots and trousers. 

“Don’t overthink it, little star, just move,” he encouraged, noticing how you were too focused on getting the movements right. With his advice, you willed yourself to let the tension in your shoulders go, gliding along the floor with Aemond’s guidance.

“There you go, well done.” Your face visibly brightened at his praise, meeting his eye in the mirror. A flush ran down from your cheeks down to your chest as he winked at you, a roguish smirk on his handsome features.

An incredulous smile broke out on your face as Aemond lifted you high up into the air with ease, still in disbelief with having found yourself in such a position. The dance was passionate, requiring great trust with your partner which you found with the silver-haired man with no trouble. You hadn’t felt this way when dancing with Tomás, nor with anyone really, with the way your muscles took a mind of its own and your body moved automatically with Aemond’s. To dance with the silver-haired man was something electric, filling you with an invigorating sensation as you sailed through the tunes of Mozart. You were lost in the music, you were lost in him, with the way his hands lingered a second too long after lifting you, his breath fanning over your face from your close proximity.

“Beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, snaking his arm around your waist when you leaned against him. Your heart raced as your chest heaved, from the exertion or from the adrenaline of dancing with the Targaryen man, you knew not. You missed the way Aemond’s eye raked down your form through the mirror, his gaze stuck on the sight of your nipples pebbled against the fabric of your leotard.

You stepped away from Aemond as you neared the climax of the piece, and it was then you faltered. You knew what was coming – the kiss. It was the highlight of Le Parc, with the dancers engaging in a long, passionate kiss as the man turned them around continuously. Your eyes were filled with uncertainty as you stood before Aemond, who was still watching your every move. Your fingers slightly trembled as you ran a hand down his body, and your breath shuddered when he did the same. You continued your movements around him, mind racing whether or not you should go through with the kiss. It was inappropriate, with him being your superior… but it was part of the choreography, was it not?

You faltered when you face to face before him, and for a second, you figured he wouldn’t want you to do it, but then you see it. A subtle dip of his head, and a flicker of his good eye towards your lips, waiting. You rose to the balls of your feet, planting your lips against his. 

Aemond’s lips stayed on yours while your arms crossed at the back of his neck. His torso leaned back as you lifted your feet up the air, your whole weight leaned against his. You felt his lips move against yours as he spun you around, faster and faster around the room. You felt breathless and dizzy when he placed you back to the ground, but before you could continue with the choreography, Aemond’s hand grabbed the back of your neck to pull you back into his lips.

A gasp left your lips in shock, parting on instinct. Aemond’s tongue forced its way into the cavern of your mouth, the hot, wet muscle caressing your own. You pushed him away by the chest, but his stronger grip on you rendered you unable to pull away.

“Aem– Mister Targaryen, please,” you panted, trying to tear away the forceful hold on your waist. His other hand grabbed the hair on the back of your head, pulling on your damp tresses to make you look at him.

“You said you would do anything, wouldn’t you? Don’t you want to shine, my little star?” Aemond growled, before latching his lips on your sweaty neck. He groaned at the taste of your salty flesh, biting and sucking on the soft skin. You whimpered, your pulse thrumming dangerously against Aemond’s lips as you continued to push him off. 

“I can make you shine. You’ll be first cast in any role you desire. You know I can make that happen for you,” he continued, pulling away to meet your teary gaze. The corners of your lips quivered downward when he caressed the side of your face, the touch giving you little comfort. Your whole body tensed when he pressed you flush into him, a stiffness poking into your thigh. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, swaying both of your bodies to the music that still continued to play through the speakers. 

“You will be a star, my shining star. You want that, don’t you?” Aemond asked, his tone sticky sweet. As you met his sharp gaze, you weighed your options. He was right, he held the power to place you on top of one of the most prestigious ballet companies in the world, but you didn’t want to do it this way. You had the talent, and you wanted to prove your worth for the role, but he also had the power to take everything away from you. He can demote you, fire you, crush your entire career to nothing but dust. You couldn’t let that happen.

With a gulp and a soft nod, you shuddered when Aemond smirked down at you. His hand pushed your shoulder down, urging you to your knees. Shame coursed through you as you watched him unbuckle his dress pants to pull out his cock. A gasp left your lips when you were met with the sight of his impressive length. A throbbing vein ran the underside of his shaft, its cockhead flushed a deep red as it weeped a clear liquid. His hand guided the tip to your lips, but you kept them closed, turning your head away in refusal. With a frustrated grunt, Aemond’s free hand cupped your face, roughly turning it back to his cock. With your cheeks squeezed and your lips slightly parted, he slipped his length in. A delighted hum reverberated from your ballet master’s chest as he thrusted languidly into your mouth, adding inch by inch until he bottomed out. Your eyes squeezed shut when his tip hit the back of your throat, unable to resist the gag that squeezed his cockhead when it touched your uvula. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail, Aemond barely gave you a chance to take a breath before setting a steady pace of his hips. Your hands gripped his muscular thighs to balance yourself, hot tears dripping down your cheeks. 

“Use your tongue,” the Targaryen ordered. You complied obediently, even going so far as hollowing your cheeks to please him further. You were starting to resign to your faith, if this is what it took to make you an étoile, fuck it. Aemond threw his head back, groaning in delight at the added pleasure. 

“Fuck, that’s it. My obedient little star,” he praised. His hips picked up their pace, pushing in and out of your mouth fast. The sound of your mouth taking his cock filled the studio, coupled with the music that continued to play from the speakers. His grunts continued to fall from his lips, his thrusts growing desperate as he neared his release. All of a sudden, Aemond pulled you off his cock. You coughed as you struggled to catch your breath, wiping off the pre-cum left on the side of your cheek. The flesh of your arm was gripped tight when the Targaryen pulled you to your feet, guiding you towards the mirror.

He turned you to face the reflection, your eyes meeting the sight of your flushed, teary face, lips swollen and cheeks stained with tears. Aemond caressed the exposed flesh of your arms softly, dipping his neck into the crook of your neck to suck a mark into the soft skin. You couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled back at the sensation, cursing your own body for its traitorous ways. His fingertips came up to hook into the straps of your leotard, pulling them down in one motion along with your bottoms. You crossed your arms instinctively to cover your parts, but Aemond was quick to stop you, grabbing your wrists to keep them by your sides.

“Don’t hide yourself from me now,” he scolded, tutting in mocking disapproval. You watched in the mirror as his eye took in your bare form hungrily, your body growing warm at his lingering gaze on your exposed breasts. His fingertips held a featherlike touch while they glided up the length of your arm, before grabbing hold of your plump tits firmly. A breath is hitched in your throat when he squeezed the soft flesh, a whine falling from your lips when he squeezed your perky nipples between his fingertips. You felt his cock jump behind you, hitting your rear. His touch traveled downwards, to your waist, your hips, and then cupping your sex with his large palm. A satisfied smirk spread on Aemond’s features when he pulled away his hand, the tips of his long fingers visibly wet and stick with your arousal when he spread them.

“Well, well, it seems like you’re enjoying yourself, little star,” he bragged, chuckling darkly when you meekly shook your head. “Deny yourself all you want, but your body will be thanking me by the end of this.”

“Please,” you pleaded. What you pleaded for, you didn’t know at this point, but you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere good at that point. You let him bend you over, pressing your hands to the cool mirror to steady yourself. You waited with bated breath as you felt Aemond line himself with your slit, gasping when he began to breach. The slick from your saliva on his cock helped lubricate his length, coupled with the slick that dripped from your core against your will. Your jaw fell slack at the almost painful stretch of your walls, a small whimper falling from your lips when he finally bottomed out. Aemond let out a groan when his hips met your ass, his hand leaving your waist to deliver a smack to the plump flesh. His aquiline nose pressed into your cheek, breathing in the sweet scent of your warm, damp flesh. His pace was unforgiving from the start, forceful and aggressive. The silver-haired man’s gripped your breasts in his large hands to ground himself, reaching deeper and deeper into your walls. 

“Ah, ‘s so good, baby,” Aemond praised, biting the shell of your ear as he groaned. Despite how much you fought your own urges, you barely registered when your lips started to emit soft sounds that echoed through the room. The music had already ended, the only sound left being the smacking of skin against skin, and the sounds coming from you and Aemond. You both watched the way his length disappeared into your cunt, your chest starting to grow speckled with a red flush the more your body grew heated. His cock drove into the rough spot that made your skin tingle, sending sparks up your spine despite your wishes. Your hips moved on their own accord, subtly meeting his thrusts. Aemond let out a breathy chuckle in your ear, planting a kiss to the side of your head.

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like my cock, pretty girl?” You bit your lip as you nodded your head, squeezing your eyes shut in humiliation. The Targaryen tutted in your ear, grabbing your face to make you meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Look at me,” he ordered. You opened your hesitantly to meet his, though they threatened to close once more when his fingertips dipped down to circle your clit. Soft moans fell from your lips as he played with the bundle of nerves, the heat in your belly disgracefully growing the more he rubbed on your nub. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be ashamed. I’m making you feel good, aren’t I? Hm? Taking good care of my little star.”

Aemond was mindlessly rambling in your ear, his words making your stomach flip at the lewdness. His hips never faltered, snapping harshly into your ass continuously. The air in the room was hot and humid, droplets of sweat beading off of yours and Aemond’s skin. You whined as the heat in your belly rapidly grew upwards, rising to your chest. Your walls began to clamp down on Aemond’s cock, squeezing his length deliciously. He groaned into your ear, his fingertips still circling your clit hard. 

“F-fucking hell, you gonna come?” The danseur asked. You grabbed his taut bicep in one hand, leaning your head back against his shoulder as a series of whiny ‘yesses’ fell from your lips. He continued to spurn you further, keeping his good eye on you when a particularly harsh thrust had you falling apart on his arms. The sight of your teary face scrunched up in pleasure, coupled with the sound of the sweet moan echoing through the quiet studio was what drove Aemond to his own release. He came with a loud grunt, spilling his hot seed into your walls. His strong grip around your waist held you up when your knees grew weak from the weight of your climax. Regaining your senses, you held onto Aemond for support, your eyes meeting his in the mirror. The imprint of your hands stained the glass, the gravity of the situation dawning on you as you stood in the aftermath. Shame washed over you for having debased yourself for leverage, and for finding pleasure in Aemond’s corrupted wickedness. The silver-haired man behind you held a smug look on his face, releasing a satisfied sigh before leaning his head against yours.

“Perfect.”

The cheers and applause of the crowd threatened to deafen your senses, yet it was a welcome sensation. You had taken your bow after a successful performance, standing with the numerous dancers on stage. Everyone waited with bated breath for the upcoming announcement, the air buzzing with equal excitement and nerves.

“Ladies and gentlemen, join us in congratulating the Paris Opera Ballet’s newest étoile,” the voice boomed through the theater. You turned to look at a nervous Tomás, giving him an encouraging squeeze of the hand. However, it wasn’t his name that was called, but yours.

The shock was visible on everyone’s features, as it was in yours. You felt their heated stares behind you while you stayed rooted to your spot, frozen in disbelief.

A tall figure walked onto the stage, holding a bouquet of flowers. The applause only thundered louder as the crowd is blessed with the sight of Aemond Targaryen, who was walking towards you with a smile on his face. Having been responsible for your promotion, he was the first to congratulate you, handing you the extravagant arrangement of flowers. He kissed both your cheeks respectfully, before whispering, “Congratulations, my little star. I trust I shall be seeing more of your graceful talents soon enough, yes?”

You looked up to meet his gaze, taking in the suggestive tone in his voice. It was then you realized what you had gotten to, what you had paid for greatness. Your lips widened to a sweet smile, giving Aemond a small nod, much to his satisfaction.

#bella writes ✍️ #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #hotd x reader

[thekinslayed]

The First Time You Called Me Baby

summary | The beginning of the story between you and a certain silver-haired man.

pairing | modern aemond targaryen x girlfriend!reader (saltburn au)

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, blowjob, semi-public, pantyfuck, squirting, handjob, attempt at harassment, rough sex, Felix Catton’s nasty ass room

wordcount | 8.4k

note | this is the prequel to The First Taste, but can still be read as a standalone! this is set a little over a year from the events of that fic :) thank u for the love on that nasty little thing, and i hope u guys enjoy this one too!

song rec | The First Time - Hozier

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated! i am open for fic requests <3

(dividers by @thecutestgrotto)

You had first laid your eyes on him at the library. His silver hair was a stark contrast against the dark wood of the aisles filled with books. You were a first year at Oxford, and he was in his second. The simmering heat that still lingered at summer’s end licked at your skin, bringing about droplets of sweat down your back, despite the thin summer dress you were already sporting. He, however, was clad in a black henley, paired with dark jeans and sneakers, and looked utterly divine. It was unfair, really. 

The mysterious man was absorbed in his reading, scribbling on a notebook with every couple of lines that he read. You perused through the aisles in search of a book required for one of your classes, and as you passed his table, he lifted his head to look at you, no doubt feeling your eyes peeking down at what he was reading.

You immediately looked away, pretending as though you hadn’t just been caught. Your cheeks flushed hotter than they already were, and as you scampered away, you missed the way his good eye followed your retreating form, curiosity filling his good eye.

In the weeks that followed, you kept seeing him around Oxford, in the halls, at the pub where you learned he was good friends with Felix Catton, and again at the library. It turned out you shared a class, Philosophy with Professor Quinn, though you had always sat on either end of the lecture hall, paths never crossing. Your interactions were limited to swift eye contact whenever you were in the same vicinity, never speaking a word to each other.

One Tuesday, you were seated in the lecture hall of your class, organizing your notes when a shadow cast a dimness over you. You looked up to meet the eyes of your mystery man, who had silver hair tied back into a low ponytail, clad in yet another black shirt.

“Is this seat taken?” was the first thing he ever said to you. He pointed to the empty seat beside you, awaiting your response. It was already a good month into the semester, and at that point, everyone had their unofficially assigned seats in the hall. The guy who usually sat beside you hadn’t arrived yet, rendering his seat vacant.

“Uh, no, not really,” You responded, shaking your head lightly. You anxiously bit your lip as the object of your curiosity sat beside you, pulling out his notes. When he had settled, the silver-haired man leaned back into the seat, turning his head to you.

“I’m Aemond,” he said casually. Your ears perked up at his unique name. Only a certain group of people would have such a strange name as his. He was a Targaryen, you realized, descendants from some sort of royalty, and filthy fucking rich. You turn your head to him staring at you, expecting you to introduce yourself.

“Oh!” You blushed, before telling him your name. Aemond nodded, before extending out his hand to shake your hand. You place your hand in his, gripping it firmly to shake it.

Wow, his hand is big, you thought.

You were surprised when he asked you a few questions about yourself, initiating a light conversation between the pair of you. Based on what you had seen, he didn’t really talk much, often just listening to Felix Catton run his mouth whenever you spotted them together. He seemed interested in your major, what classes you were taking, and what you thought of Oxford so far. You indulged him as much as you could, asking some questions about him yourself. Your conversation was cut short when the professor walked in, starting the lecture. Soon after, the guy whose seat Aemond had taken walked in, complaining to the man beside you.

“There’s some more seats at the back, mate, you’ll be fine,” Aemond said nonchalantly, pointing a thumb to the back of the room. The student, Kyle, looked at you, but you only shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile. He scoffed, before walking away to find another seat. You silently thanked Aemond for taking his seat, because fucking Kyle was always sneezing without covering his nose and sprayed his snot everywhere like a child.

Over the next weeks, you and Aemond became friendly acquaintances. You helped each other with the work assigned for the class and had a few study sessions together in the library. He was incredibly nice to you, in contrast to the intimidating aura he naturally possessed. You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him, because that man had a face sculpted by the gods. However, you paid these growing feelings no mind. You heard he was seeing Floris Baratheon, and you were talking to Mark, who was introduced to you by your best friend.

Mark was nice, sweet, and had a way with words that made you laugh with little effort. Talking to him felt easy and casual, but something was missing. He lacked the intrigue you felt with Aemond, and the enigmatic, alluring way the silver-haired man looked at you made you feel a tingle in your stomach in a way no one else could. Still, Mark was good fun, but you couldn’t see things going further, not when your mind was always stuck on a certain silver-haired man.

It was a Friday night, and you were at a party with some friends. You nursed a beer while you sat with them, engaged in conversation. The whole thing was quite casual, which you were thankful for because the last one you were at had gotten so chaotic that you narrowly avoided being puked on by someone in the middle of the dark room. 

You laughed when one of your friends’ started wildly waving her hands animatedly as she told her latest gossip, the alcohol in your systems made all of you warm and loose the more you drank. In the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar head of silver hair passing through the crowd of people. You turned your head to see Aemond, though he wasn’t alone. He was with none other than Floris Baratheon, who held his wrist as she guided him through the crowd to leave the party. You ignored the strange twinge in your chest at the sight, gaze following the pair. 

Sensing a pair of eyes on him, Aemond turned to meet yours. You gave him a friendly smile and a wave, to which he responded with a nod and a small smile. All of a sudden, he forgot why he was letting himself get dragged by Floris, but made no move to stop her. He watched as you tore your gaze away from him, directing your attention back to your friends. The sight of you giggling at whatever your friend said was the last glimpse got of you before Floris led him away from the party.

You were walking back to your room, alone, after having dropped off all of your friends at their dorms. Having been the least drunk out of the whole group, you had made sure they got back to their rooms safely, before heading back to your own. You also were in a separate building, so you quickly made your way back, trying to stay mindful of your surroundings. Much to your luck, a student had stumbled out of one of the buildings you passed on your way, clearly intoxicated.

“Hey, all alone?” He slurred, giving you a lopsided smile.

“No, someone’s waiting for me,” You lied, trying to walk faster when he blocked your path.

“Oh yeah? I don’t see anyone, pretty girl,” He snickered turning his head around where you had pointed into the darkness. “Why don’t you come up to mine, can’t be walking around all alone! ‘S dangerous, you know?”

You expressed your refusal at his offer, pushing past him but he had grabbed your arm to prevent you from walking away. You struggled to pull away from his grip, but he was much stronger than you. Your heart beat erratically in your chest, starting to panic when he started to drag you despite your efforts to plant your feet firmly into the ground.

“Do we have a problem here?” A voice spoke behind you. You whipped your head around to see Aemond, whose good eye was filled with anger at the sight. 

“Nah, mate, was just taking my girl back to my room,” The man chuckled casually, grip still unrelenting on your forearm. You subtly shook your head at Aemond, eyes silently pleading for him to not leave you alone. He studied your expression, before turning back to the drunk student.

“Yeah? Looks like she isn’t up for it, mate,” Aemond said, taking a step forward closer to you.

“Oh, fuck you, one-eye! Why don’t ya just leave us alone?” He spat at Aemond, his loud voice echoing through the night air. In a flash, Aemond’s fist sent the drunk man sprawling onto the pavement. You gasped in shock, stepping away. Relief flooded in your chest when you were finally freed from the tight grip on your arm. In his intoxicated state, the man could barely recover from the singular blow to his nose, moaning in pain as he lay on the ground.

Brushing a hand through his silver locks, Aemond walked back to you, the anger in his eye now replaced with concern. He called your name lowly, hand reaching to hold your elbow as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Hey, you alright? I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said softly, rubbing at your skin comfortingly. You nodded at him, chest still panting from the rush of adrenaline you felt. 

“Y-yeah, thank you, Aemond, really,” you thanked him, giving him a shaky smile.

“No need to thank me. Can I walk you back?” He offered, to which you gratefully accepted. You both started to walk back to your dorm in silence as you took the time to calm down. After a couple of moments of comfortable silence, your head turned to the Targaryen beside you, curiosity sparking in your chest.

“I thought you were, um– I saw you leave with Floris,” You stuttered, cringing inwardly at your awkward tone. Aemond only hummed at your words, grimacing as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“I did, but, I don’t know…I figured I was tired of whatever it was we were doing, so I just walked her back to her room and left. Then I found you,” He explained, looking back at you when he finished speaking. You couldn’t help the flutter in your stomach at the revelation.

“Oh,” was all you could say. You bit your lip as your face warmed when his gaze stayed on your face, turning your attention to your feet while you walked.

“How are things going with you and Mark?” Aemond suddenly asked, much to your surprise. He rubbed the back of his neck, waiting for your answer. You had told him a bit about Mark, but you hadn’t divulged how you actually felt about him. An awkward chuckle fell from your lips as you pondered on what to say.

“I think we’re just gonna stay friends,” you confessed shyly. Your eyes studied his reaction, but he only nodded, sniffling at the cold breeze that whipped his silver hair.

“Oh,” was all Aemond could say. 

You continued to walk in another comfortable silence until you reached your building. As Aemond walked you to the door, you turned around to look up at him. You could feel your pulse thrum in your ears, the tips of your ears growing flushed when his face had been much closer than expected. The icy blue of his good eye almost glimmered under the light illuminating the pavement, his prosthetic eye unmoving on the left side of his face.

“Thank you for walking me back, Aemond, and for… you know,” you said, implying how he practically saved your life earlier. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.” Sincerity filled your tone, one that reached Aemond’s heart. He shook his head at you, thin lips lifting to a warm smile. 

“I told you there’s no need to thank me,” he said. The night breeze blew a loose strand of hair into your face, and Aemond’s fingers carefully lifted to tuck it back into your ear. Your cheeks warmed up at his gesture, your lips lifting into a flustered smile. 

“It’s dangerous to be walking alone at night. If you need someone to walk you home, I’ll always be there,” he told you, tone comforting. You nodded at his words, uttering another sign of thanks. 

You stared up at him, studying his face. Your eyes ran down the faint scar on his left cheek, curious as to how he acquired it. You couldn’t help but shift your gaze to his lips, the warm feeling in your belly returning as desire pulsed deep within you. You wondered how it would feel against yours, how his hands would wander on your skin after he pulled you close. 

Aemond caught the way your gaze fell to his lips, and with a surge of courage, he slowly dipped his head toward yours intending to capture your pink lips, soft and inviting. Your breath hitched when you realized his intentions, and before your lips could touch, you placed a hand on his chest, prompting him to pull away. You bit your lip guiltily, before leaning up to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Good night, Aemond,” You whispered in his ear, before stepping away to turn around. You twisted the doorknob to the building open, stepping inside. You spared him one last glance, giving him a sweet smile, before shutting the door behind you.

As the door closed behind you, Aemond let out a heavy sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eye. His heart hammered heavily in his chest, his throat suddenly dry after being so close to you. He chuckled to himself as he walked away, turning back one last time to catch a light flicker on by a window on the second floor.

Your leg bounced as you fidgeted in your chair anxiously, eyes scanning the words on the book yet you barely understood what any of them meant. Beside you, Aemond scribbled down on his notes, lips moving as he mouthed the words he was reading silently. It was late, yet both of you were stuck poring over the material for your upcoming midterm. You had been in the library for hours, only taking breaks to get a breather and grab a snack. A big portion of your grade for the class depended on this exam, and you were wary of how you would do. 

It didn’t help that Aemond smelled so fucking good. His perfume was not overpowering at all, but rather clean and inviting, the kind that made you want to press your nose against his skin to smell it more. He looked unbelievably handsome when his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, or when he leaned back to stretch, letting out a groan that went straight to your core.

As your eyes trailed over the notes scattered across the table, your gaze fell on his exposed forearms. You could see the fibers of his muscular forearms as they flexed with every moment, while the veins ran down to his large hands. Your thoughts drifted to what they would look like around your neck, or on your tits, or how his fingers would tease your—

Fucking hell.

You let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back on your chair and rubbing a hand across your face. Aemond looked up at you in concern, putting down his pencil as he turned to you.

“You okay?” He asked. His good eye ran over your features, taking in the way the skin in between your eyebrows creased while a frown adorned your lips. You have dressed in one of your adorable little sundresses again, paired with a knit cardigan to keep you warm in the chilly library.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m just tired,” you mumbled. Aemond hummed, leaning back against his chair as well.

“Why don’t we take a break? We’ve been at it for a while,” he suggested, to which you eagerly nodded. You stood up from your seat, arms lifting in the air as you stretched. Aemond’s eye trained on how your short dress lifted ever so slightly, only a couple inches away from flashing him your rear. The silver-haired man gulped, ignoring the way his cock twitched at the teasing sight, before rising from his chair. 

He followed you through the aisles as you walked around to stretch your legs. The library was practically empty, so it was safe to leave your stuff without worrying about it getting stolen. He watched your fingers trail over the spine of the books, stopping along with you when you paused to read some titles that interested you. You took the stairs up to the second floor, where there was not a single soul around. 

Your eyes wandered around the vast, historical space, admiring the old architecture. Oxford was much more beautiful at night, with the moonlight that shone over its stone walls, and the amber glow from the lights casted a warmth in the quiet room. You craned your head back to admire the intricate woodwork on the ceiling, pointing up a finger to show Aemond.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” You said to him, looking back with a smile. He was looking at you with a strange look. His good eye was filled with something intense, something that threatened to wash over him. It made you feel warm all over, and goosebumps rose on your flesh as you took the sight of him in.

“Breathtaking,” he whispered, though his eye stayed on you. He gave you a fond smile, one that caused your heart to thump heavily against your ribcage. 

Since he took you home that night, the two of you had toyed with the line separating your friendship from becoming something more. The way he looked at you made you feel light as air, and his words caused your usually sure self to stutter in bashfulness. For weeks, you had felt as though you were on the verge of stumbling over, and the slightest touch would have you falling over the edge. You could only hope to be caught, and without any sign of that assurance, you willed yourself to keep your balance. 

But with how he was looking at you tonight, you realized you were already in the wind, freefalling to whatever awaited you. It couldn’t be helped, not with the way you searched for him in everyone you came across, for the sensation only he seemed to arouse from you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, careful yet hopeful. The tension was palpable, you could feel it in your fingertips. You knew, even without him saying it, but you had to hear the words. When his eye was usually analytical and cold, it now seemed to resemble the vast ocean, with nothing but fondness swimming in its waters. 

“You know why,” he said softly. As he took steps towards you, you took steps back, up until you were pressed against the wooden shelf. His taller build caged you in, but it didn’t feel claustrophobic at all; it felt safe, comforting. 

“Aemond,” you breathed out, suddenly breathless. His hand caressed the side of your face, and the pad of his thumb pressed down on your bottom lip.

“So pretty,” he whispered. Aemond seemed hypnotized, by the way his skin grew warm and his chest panted when he stepped into your space. You tilted your head up at him with big eyes, but his eye were stuck on your lips. Your lips slightly parted when you let out a gasp, and his thumb moved up to dip into your mouth.

Aemond’s jaw dropped ever so slightly when your lips wrapped around his thumb. You hollowed out your cheeks to suck on his finger, running your tongue on its underside. A grunt reverberated from deep within his chest, his cock throbbing at the erotic sight. His free hand came up to your waist, its warmth exuding through the fabric that separated your flesh. 

You looked like a doe with shining eyes as you remained staring up at his face, the innocence in your orbs a sharp contrast to the erotic sight of your lips. As your spit gathered around his thumb you felt a similar wetness between your thighs. You subtly pressed them together in hopes of trying to soothe the pulsing ache from your cunt.

Aemond’s eye dropped from your lips to your legs when your knee accidentally knocked against his, catching you in the act. His mouth all but watered at the sight of you, coupled with the way your nipples poked through the thin fabric of your dress.

Pulling his thumb from your lips, Aemond’s lips surged forward to fill in its absence. Teeth knocking against each other, you let out a low whimper as he all but devoured your mouth. His kiss was hungry and all-consuming, turning you lightheaded. His hand pressed against the shelf behind you, fully caging you in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingertips running through the soft silver tresses that had captivated you since the first day you laid eyes upon him. Kissing turned into gnawing, and you gripped his starlit hair, opening your mouth further to welcome his tongue. You wrapped a leg around his waist, the ends of your dress lifting to allow his bulge to press flush against your damp center. 

You gasped into Aemond’s mouth when his straining cock rubbed against your clothed pearl deliciously. Your hips started to swirl against his, taking on a mind of its own. Breathless, you chased Aemond’s lips when he pulled away from you, earning a chuckle from him. He caressed the side of your head lovingly, before grabbing the end of your dress to lift the fabric.

Aemond cursed under his breath when the sight of your panties greeted him. There was a damp patch where your arousal started to stain the cotton, and the indent of your folds made for a mouthwatering sight. His fingers hooked to the side, pushing the fabric away to reveal your weeping cunt. Another whimper left your lips as the chill air blew on your exposed pussy, clenching around nothing. You gripped the fabric of Aemond’s shirt, silently urging him to touch you.

Two fingers swiped up your slit, arousal coating the pads of Aemond’s fingertips when he pulled it away. He brought it to his lips, letting out a low moan when he tasted your essence.

“Fucking delicious” he growled. His aquiline nose pressed against your cheek, taking in the sweet smell of your flesh.

“Please,” you pleaded weakly. His hand rubbed your waist comfortingly, before squeezing the soft flesh through the fabric.

“What do you want, hm?” He asked, placing a hand under your chin to make you look at him. You gulped, trying your hardest to keep your voice quiet. Despite the lack of people in the library, you knew you still had to be careful.

“Touch me, Aemond, please,” you begged, grabbing his wrist to place it back on your pussy. Aemond gave you a sweet kiss on your lips, before pushing his fingers past your fingers once more to feel your slick core.

You bit your lip hard to prevent moaning out loud when his middle finger dipped into your slit, teasing. Aemond smirked at the way your eyebrows furrowed at him, eyes desperately pleading with him. 

“You’re adorable, you know that?” He chuckled, before pressing a kiss on your forehead. He decided to forego his teasing, entering his whole finger into your cunt up to his knuckles. Your walls swallowed him up deliciously, and he wondered how you would be able to take his cock.

One thing at a time.

You dropped your head onto his shoulder when his finger curled upwards, caressing the rough spot within your walls. His finger thrust into you at a steady pace, soon adding another. Your walls felt full, fuller than when you would use your own fingers to pleasure yourself. You panted into Aemond’s neck, letting out small cries against his hot flesh as his finger bent in a ‘come hither’ motion. You gripped his shoulders to ground yourself, your hips moving in tandem with the rhythm of his fingers. 

“Aem– mm,” you moaned. 

“Keep making those sounds for me, yeah?” He whispered into your ear, running his lips against the shell of your ear. You let out another whine, before running one of your hands from his shoulder down to cup his clothed cock. 

Aemond’s breath hitched in his throat when you squeezed his bulge lightly. Your shaky hands unbuckled his belt, zipped down his jeans, and dipped past his briefs to grip his hard cock. Aemond let out a low moan of your name, biting your neck lightly when you began to stroke his length. He continued to fuck you with his fingers, keeping his grip on his sanity as your dainty hands rubbed at his flushed tip. He barely registered when you pulled out his cock to direct it to your pussy to replace his fingers, but he was able to stop you in time before you pulled on his wrist.

“Not here, baby,” he said, earning a whiny pout from you. He planted another kiss on your forehead to soothe you, mumbling a ‘next time’ into your skin.

God, he wanted to fuck you so bad, but he wanted to do it right. He wanted to take the time to devour you in all the ways he could, he wanted to see you take your pleasure from him, to fall apart on his fingers, tongue, before claiming you with his cock. It wouldn’t be possible to do it here, in a library where anyone could see you. 

Instead, he directed his cock to rub on your slit, before pulling your panties back over to cover his cockhead with the fabric. The underside of his cock rubbed on your slit deliciously, its mushroomed tip getting caught by the curve of your folds to rub directly on your clit. You let out a pathetic whimper, slapping your hand to cover your mouth at the sensation.

The halls remained quiet except for the slick sounds coming from in between your thighs, and the heavy breathing from both of you. Aemond bit back a groan as the sensitive tip of his cock snagged on the cotton of your panties, the fabric now drenched with both of your juices.

Your thrusts moved in tandem with one another, chasing both of your releases. You gripped the back of Aemond’s neck to pull him towards you, smashing your lips together. Your hips had a mind of its own, moving desperately as you felt the warmth in your belly grow. You panted into Aemond’s mouth, who swallowed every moan that left you with his lips. A chorus of his name fell out of your lips, voice turning whiny as he hurled you towards your precipice. 

The feeling of the protruding vein on the underside of Aemond’s cock rubbing at your clit was what sent you overboard, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you spilled in your underwear. In the dizzying haze of your release, you tried to catch your breath and watched Aemond pull his length away from you. His expert hand began to stroke it furiously, and you watched, mesmerized, as his face contorted into an expression of pleasure. Your hand fondled his balls to aid him towards his release, your mouth capturing his in another passionate kiss. You felt his stones tighten in your touch, and Aemond pulled away as he felt the coil in his stomach start to snap. His free hand hooked onto the top of your panties, exposing your cunt once more. He points his cock down towards your pussy, before ejaculating into your underwear. You gasped at the warm droplets of cum that painted your mound, relishing in the sound of his grunts of your name in your ear. 

Aemond’s fingers snapped back the elastic against your skin, before cupping your clothed cunt that kept his seed, making sure it stayed there. He leaned back to look at your flushed face, tucking back some loose strands of hair behind your ear.

Your eyes closed when he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, breath shuddering as his lips trailed down to plant another one on your nose, your cheeks, and then finally, your swollen lips. The kiss was sweet and gentle, and as you pulled away you couldn’t help the sheepish smile you beamed up at him, to which he responded with a fond look.

After that little tryst, you and Aemond were practically inseparable. You would walk together around campus, study together, and of course, take classes beside each other. He had even taken the initiative to wait outside your lecture hall during your other classes, walking you back to your dorm or taking you out to eat afterwards if you were hungry. He was the perfect gentleman, always carrying your books or your bag and keeping a protective arm around your waist as you walked. Speaking of touch, whenever you and Aemond were together, he always had to be touching you in some way, be it with an arm around your shoulder, or through the kisses he planted on your skin whenever he got the chance. 

He had even introduced you to Felix, who admittedly, Aemond could barely stand. He and Felix were childhood friends, having been around each other’s families for years because of their connections. He was only around Catton and the little bundle of people that followed his tail because of their familiarity with each other, but even being around their boisterous, mentally obtuse group for a short period did Aemond’s head in.

Still, you graciously accepted Felix’s invites to some parties, though you and Aemond only ever stayed for a few moments before wandering off hand in hand. After that night in the library, the extent of your touches only ever extended to making out and fondling each other. With exam week coming up soon, you both barely had the time to indulge in your desires. Your friends were excited for you, often asking you the juicy details about Aemond, to which you only shyly responded with vague answers, much to their protests. They warned you, however, about the Targaryens’ nonexistent commitment abilities. It wasn’t specific to Aemond, but to all of the ones that came before him. One of your girlfriends still harbored a bitter resentment for his older brother, Aegon, for having treated her like she was nonexistent despite being the reason for her pregnancy scare. 

Their advice made you think, Aemond hadn’t explicitly asked you to be his girlfriend yet, so you weren’t technically together. Yet the way his hands squeezed your tits when you made out was certainly an indication you weren’t just friends… right?

These thoughts clouded your mind as you sat beside Aemond. It was the end of midterm season, and many students appropriately wanted to celebrate. You were invited to a pre-game by Felix, a prelude to the actual party later in the night. You were sat with Aemond on the couch, his hand drew circles around the exposed flesh of your thighs, while he listened to the group’s conversation.

Your best friend, Sarah, was on the loveseat to your left, her legs extended across the length of the seat. Her soft call of your name made you turn to look at her. She cocked her to Cerelle Lannister, who had been openly making eyes at your kinda-but-not-really boyfriend. The blonde was also another childhood friend of Aemond’s, and you wondered whether there had been something more between the two that you didn’t know about. 

These fucking rich people, I swear, you thought as you glared at Cerelle from across the group. She had made a couple of passes at him throughout the night, shooting him teasing remarks despite it being completely out of topic from the group’s conversation. Aemond had only responded with a roll of his eye or completely ignored her together. However, his lack of shutting down her attempts only seemed to encourage the blonde, which enraged you. 

Your eyes met Sarah’s, who raised her eyebrows at you, silently conveying, ‘Can you believe this bitch?’

You only let out a sigh, to which Aemond turned to you to kiss your temple and rub at your skin. You flashed him a fake smile, before downing the liquor in your cup in one go. 

Besides his inner circle of friends, Felix also invited some people he knew, one of whom was Mark. The familiar brunette appeared, passing by you and Sarah on the couch. Your best friend called him over, greeting him. The friendly second-year greeted both of you with a smile, telling you both he was headed to the kitchen to grab another drink. Sarah grabbed you along, snatching you from Aemond’s touch to lead you away.

“I’m just gonna be at the kitchen,” you quickly said, already being dragged away before he could reply. Aemond watched as you walked away with Sarah, though his eyebrows furrowed in dismay when he spotted Mark trailing behind you. His eye stayed on you until you disappeared through the kitchen, debating whether to follow you or not. Aemond ultimately decided to let you be. If Sarah was with you, he doubted she would let Mark try anything on you.

“So… that’s why you aren’t seeing Floris anymore,” Farleigh spoke up beside Aemond, watching as the silver-haired man's eye still stared down the hall you disappeared to. He sighed at his friend’s words, returning to face him.

“I’m not seeing Floris anymore because she makes me want to get run over by a bus, Farleigh,” he responded, staring back at Felix’s cousin who stared him down analytically. 

In the kitchen, you accepted the shot of vodka handed to you. You downed the shot, grimacing at the burn of the cheap liquor down your throat. 

“Listen, I love you,” Sarah started, pouring another shot for herself, “but you have got to do something about that blonde little cunt before I do it for you.”

“She’s right,” Mark agreed, nodding at you. He had been debriefed on the whole situation by Sarah, pitching in his friendly advice. 

“I know, but they’ve known each other since they were kids! What if I was the one clueless about something that has been going on between them?” You spoke, shoulders sagging as you thought about the prospect of your words being true. You contemplated whether that was the real reason why he refused to fuck you in the library.

“Well, then, tell Aemond to say bye-bye to that majestic hair if that’s true. He can’t be going around fuckin’ touching you and kissing you in front of everyone if he’s got another girl, and he most certainly cannot be leading you in circles!” Sarah exclaimed. The back of her hand slapped Mark’s shoulder, who jumped at the sudden strike. “Back me up here, Mark.”

Your eyes looked at him, frowning. He sighed at the sight of you, thinking back to the possibility of what could’ve been. Mark nodded, giving you a genuine smile.

“A girl like you shouldn’t be left waiting. He’d be the biggest idiot in the world if he let his chance get away,” he said, tone filled with nothing but sincerity. Your heart warmed at his words, deeply appreciating the friendship you maintained. You flinched as Sarah slammed down her shot glass after downing another one, now tipsy, before pointing a finger at you.

“Y’know what? If he won’t tell you, just go and find out for yourself. It’s fuckin’ 2005, babe! Chivalry’s dead and buried six feet beside Princess Di. If you want him, go get him,” Sarah persuaded you. With encouragement from both of your friends, you realized they were right. You can’t be waiting around contemplating Aemond’s true feelings for you. You wanted him, and hell, you were going to make him all yours.

You nodded with conviction, exhaling a deep breath as you gathered all your courage. Sarah passed you another shot, which you drank for liquid courage. Wiping your hands on your skirt, you turned away to walk out of the kitchen to find Aemond. 

Walking back down the hall, you found the couch empty, with no Aemond in sight. Your attention was grabbed by a series of hollers from further down the hall, where everyone gathered around cheering on while some guy was chugging an entire bottle of vodka, encouraged by the chants around him.

You found Aemond off to the side, leaning on the wall as he watched on in amusement. He took a swig of beer from the bottle in his hand, still unaware of your presence. He looked absolutely godly. He sported a gray crewneck that hugged his lithe form perfectly, the sleeves were pushed back to expose his forearms, and the silver chain hidden in his shirt glinted in the dim light of the room. With a sudden surge of desire going through you, you made your way to him. As you reached him, your hand grasped his elbow, making him turn to you. Without any warning, you smashed your lips onto his, cupping his jaw as you kissed him passionately. His lips responded in fervor, hand slithering around your back to pull you closer to him. Aemond pulled away to look down at you, studying the dazed look in your half-lidded eyes.

“I need you, now,” you made known, a steady conviction in your tone. The man before you smirked, nodding and grabbing your hand to take you away. The beer bottle in his hand was discarded, and he guided you up the stairs. He led you down the hallway lined with rooms, stopping at the third door on your left. He twisted the doorknob to find it unlocked, opening it wide to let you in first. Your eyes widened at how easily he had found this room, looking up at him in confusion.

“It’s Felix’s room. Knobhead never locks it,” Aemond informed you, cocking his head to urge you to enter. You stepped into Felix’s room, which was a little bit messy for your taste. Aemond locked the door behind you, before gripping your waist to turn you around. 

Your lips locked together once more, devouring each other as you blindly stepped towards the bed. You pushed Aemond down on Felix’s mattress, before kneeling on the floor before him. Aemond ran a hand through his silver hair, his hungry gaze stuck on you as he watched you unbuckle his belt. Your hands worked quickly, a sense of urgency in your actions to take him. Pulling out his cock, you kept your eyes on his while your tongue darted out to lick his tip, teasing him. He let in a sharp inhale, before groaning when you began to stroke his shaft. 

“Fucking hell… open your mouth,” he rasped out, gripping your chin to tilt your head towards him. A whimper left your open lips when Aemond spat into your mouth. His large hand gripped the back of your head, directing you back to his cock. With the extra saliva as lubrication, you took his length into your mouth, sinking until your nose hit his pubic bone. You heard him let out a curse, before starting to bob your head up and down. You switched between sinking your mouth onto his length and stroking it with you hand.

Your pace increased fast, sucking his cock with an air of desperation. It might have been the booze, or the sheer fact that your desire for him overwhelmed your senses. Your confidence was boosted at the sounds falling from his pretty lips, his raspy voice sending tingles straight to your core. You blindly reached for his wrist and, while your other hand gathered your hand into a makeshift ponytail. You guided him to grip your hair, pushing on the back of his to urge him to use you however he wanted. 

His grip was tight as he moved you up and down his cock to his liking. His grunts verberated off the walls of the room, while the erotic sounds of your throat taking his cock filled the quiet space.

All too sudden, he pulled you off his cock. You panted when you came up for air, spit running down the corners of your swollen mouth. Aemond’s gaze darkened at the sight of you, his perfect girl. His thumb wiped on the side of your lips before he surged forward to kiss you. 

“My good girl,” he mumbled against your lips, earning a moan from you. His hands on your elbows urged you to stand, and you pulled away to pull your dress off in one swift motion, before dropping your panties to the floor.

The sight of your bare body took Aemond’s breath away. His good eye stared up at you in admiration, and his hand gripped the soft flesh of your waist to pull you closer to him. He snuggled his face into your stomach, breathing in the sweet scent of your flesh. You giggled at the kisses that he tickled you with, running your hand through his hair soothingly. 

“You’re perfect,” he said, looking up at you with adoration. Your heart swelled as you blushed, before leaning down to recapture his lips. He pulled off his shirt while your thighs straddled his lap, caging him. Aemond could taste the salty tang of his pre-cum on your tongue, though he didn’t find it within him to be disgusted. He reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet where kept a condom, but your hand stopped him from taking the foil out.

“We don’t have to,” you said, biting your lips as you looked at him. Aemond’s eye stared at the way your lips were swollen, your cheeks flushed from the growing heat in the room.

“Are you sure?” he asked, to which you nodded.

“I’m on birth control, and I… I’m clean,” you tell him. He nodded at you, giving you a comforting smile, and caressing your cheek softly with his thumb.

“Me too, there’s no one else,” he said, to which you gave him a surprised look. Confusion graced his features at your surprise. “Did you think…”

You gave him a sheepish look, avoiding his gaze by keeping your eyes on the dragon pendant of his necklace. You saw his chest shake when he chuckled, slightly jumping when his hands squeezed your waist to prompt you to look at him.

“You’re so cute,” he teased, squeezing your plump cheek. You looked at him shyly, meeting his amused gaze. 

“You’re my girl,” Aemond said softly, now cupping your jaw. Your eyes slightly widened at his words, joy filling your chest. “Really?” You beamed up at him.

“Of course you are, I thought I made it pretty obvious by now,” he responded. You huffed at his words playfully, shaking your head lightly. Idiots, you both were. You could have saved yourself a lot of confusion and torment if only you had talked sooner. 

“Well, you didn’t really ask,” You shrugged, to which Aemond nodded in understanding. He pecked your cheek, and then your lips, mumbling an apology against your pout. Your look turned playful, hips scooting closer to press your wet slit against his cock that still stood high. “And I haven’t really given you an answer. Actually, I might need some convincing,” you suggested with a teasing tone. He raised his eyebrow at your words, lips pulling up into a smirk.

“Hm, why don’t I just show you then?” Aemond said. Before you could respond, he lifted your hips and aligned his cock to your slit. He impaled you on his length in a split second, causing you to let out a loud moan in surprise. His large hands guided you up and down his cock, giving you no time to adjust as he set a quick pace. From this position, his cockhead kissed the end of your cervix directly, the sensation making your eyes roll back into your skull.

Despite being on top, it was clear Aemond had full control, which was good because you lost your wits almost instantly. He wrapped an arm behind you to keep you bouncing on his lap, before leaning back to lay down. His feet propped up on the edge of the bed, allowing him to thrust up into you. You felt like a ragdoll in his arms, pliant and purely his to fuck. His free hand gathered your hair, pulling it back to expose your neck. Breathless whines freely fell from your slacked mouth as Aemond bit and sucked marks onto the expanse of your neck. His hips stayed relentless, and his balls slapped against your ass with his quick pace. 

From his perspective below you, your tits bounced in Aemond’s face in tandem with his thrusts. They looked fucking delectable, and he took one in his mouth to suck on the plump flesh. The sensation made your toes clench, and the brewing warmth in your belly only grew the more he thrust into you. You felt him everywhere, his touch burned every inch of your skin, warming up your viscera. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, ‘Aemond… Oh, Aemond’, as though he were a god. 

Tantalized, Aemond watched as your eyes clenched shut, mouth falling into an ‘o’ that released whiny moans. The flush from your cheeks had run down to the surface of your chest, painting your skin with blotches of pink. Sweat beaded on your hairline, some even trailing down the length of your neck. Aemond felt a spark at the bottom of his spine at the sight of you, the beginning of his end fast approaching. The air in Felix’s room started to smell like sex, and at that point it wouldn't be surprising if the windows started fogging up. 

Hips never faltering, the silver-haired man dipped a thumb in between your folds, rubbing quick circles into your clit. You had met his thrusts enthusiastically, but as he started to stimulate your pearl, your pace turned erratic at the added sensation. You could no longer control the volume of your moans, not even registering your mindless babbling while you chased your release. A strange feeling started to spread, something akin to the sensation of wanting to pee. You had started to panic at the odd sensation, but before you could tell Aemond to stop, you squirted a clear liquid from your cunt. Felix’s sheets were stained with your release, though that was the least of your worries because Aemond continued to fuck you through another orgasm that quickly followed. 

His climax washed over him not too long after, pulling out to spurt his seed on his stomach. He used his friend’s sheet to wipe the cum on his abs, to which you gave him an incredulous look.

“Aemond!”

“What? It’s fine. I bet these sheets have probably seen far worse than a little cum. Come here,” he said nonchalantly, pulling you flush against his now clean front. You snuggled into his warm embrace, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You laid there in a comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of what may have been the best orgasm you’ve ever had. His hand ran down the expanse of your back with a soothing caress, and his lips planted soft kisses on your damp forehead. You felt Aemond’s chest expand as he sucked in a deep breath, before letting out a sigh.

“I feel like an asshole,” he suddenly said. You raised your head from his neck in confusion, brows furrowed as you met his eye.

“Why?” You asked. His icy blue glimmered from the dim light that filtered in through the window, and his starlit hair fell around him like a halo. He looked absolutely ethereal, otherworldly.

“I wanted to take you out on a nice date before we did anything else. I didn’t wanna make you feel like I was only after you sex or whatever,” he admitted, nothing but sincerity in his tone. Your eyes softened at his words, your heart warm at how sweet he is.

“You could still take me out, and then… we could, you know, do this again,” you suggested, making him chuckle at the inviting look in your eyes. He nodded, whispering an ‘okay, baby’ before pulling you towards him for another kiss.

After that night, everyone at Oxford knew you as Aemond’s girl. The pair of you were always stuck together, and at the rare moments any of you were caught walking alone, best believe you were more than likely making your way to meet the other. Felix Catton was none the wiser about the things you did in his room, but it was most certainly not the last time that happened.

By summer, Aemond took you to his family’s estate, Dragonstone. You spent your days in a heated daze, basking in the sun together with Aemond and his siblings. You had gotten incredibly well with all of them, especially Helaena. His mother, Alicent, thought you a doll, and always pestered Aemond to bring you back whenever he could. 

You had taken him to meet your family as well, driving back to your childhood home. It wasn’t Dragonstone, but it was comfortable enough. Your parents absolutely adored what a gentleman he was, even managing to earn your father’s approval, a feat that no other previous boyfriend had been able to achieve.

By summer’s end, Aemond tried to convince you to move out of your dorm and into an apartment with him instead, one just outside of campus. Despite every fiber of your being begging you to say yes, you wanted to keep your own space for a while longer. As much as you loved Aemond, it would be best to not rush into things. You were still students after all, and you wanted to make the most of what university had to offer. You had the rest of your lives to do more things, this you were sure of. 

As the first semester of your second year at Oxford started, you found yourself rushing through the halls towards your tutorial. You were running a few minutes late, and you hated being tardy. You entered the room quietly, throwing your tutor an apologetic look. The other student was already seated, flipping through a book when you entered. Slightly out of breath, you settled down beside him, before turning to give introduce yourself. You gave him a sweet smile as you extended your hand for him to shake. His eyes, covered by thin frames, shifted from your face to your hand, before hesitantly returning the greeting.

“My name’s Michael Gavey,” he said.

#bella writes ✍️ #queued post #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #modern aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic

[thekinslayed]

The First Taste

summary | Aemond teaches Michael a few tricks on impressing the girl he likes. (boyfriend!aemond x reader, michael gavey x reader, mentions of bimbo!gf x michael)

warning | 18+, minors dni

tags | oral sex (f), fingering, voyeur (?), reader and aemond are super freakyyy, making out, unprotected p in v, aemond's kind of a little shit in this, daddy kink, alt summary: the pussy eating champ teaches a willing apprentice 💦

wordcount | 4.4k

note | i've had this idea for a while and i could not wait to write this despite all the work i need to do!! if i get anything wrong about how oxford works i apologize i am ✨american✨

i loved writing this and i hope u guys enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!

(dividers by @saradika-graphics)

“God, Aemond!” You moaned loudly. Your boyfriend’s hips thrusted into yours from behind roughly, his grip on your throat holding you in place. His dorm room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against each other, the bed frame creaking, and the mix of your whines and Aemond’s grunts. His arm held you by your waist, your body at an angle that made his cock hit deeper into your walls. You reached down and played with your clit, rubbing circles that hurled you closer to your peak, walls clenching tight around Aemond’s cock. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” He rasped from behind you. His fingers replaced yours on your clit, rubbing even faster in tandem with the rhythm of his hips. “I’m so close, daddy, please.” You whined. His hips continued to fuck you fast and hard, the pleasure making your toes clench and sweat beads on your hairline.

“Yeah? Y’gonna cum on my cock, baby?” He asked though all you could manage was a chorus of ‘yes’ that fell from your lips as a response. Your back pressed against his bare chest as you reached back to grip the hair on the back of his neck, making him groan in your ear at how tight you pulled. It was hearing every string of curses and grunts of your name that fell from his lips that pushed you over the edge, letting out a whine, your eyes rolling back as you spilled on his cock. Aemond continued to fuck you through your peak, spilling into your walls not long after. 

You fell forward onto the soft mattress, letting out a small hiss as he pulled out of you. Warm hands spread your cheeks, an appreciative hum at the sight of both of your juicy flowing out of your slit. Two of his fingers scooped up what spilled out of you and pushed them back into your oversensitive core, making you whine and blindly reach back to smack him. He chuckled as he dodged your feeble attempt at hitting him, planting a kiss on your lower back before pulling away to grab a towel to clean you up. You remained lying on your stomach, eyes closed, basking in utter bliss as your boyfriend wiped you clean. 

“What time is it?” You mumbled, though made no move to check the clock. A groan left your lips when Aemond told you the time. You had to leave soon for your tutorial, but getting up became a much harder challenge when you felt a warmth engulf you from the back, soft kisses peppered on the back of your shoulder as Aemond cuddled you. “Just a couple more minutes.” He whispered into your skin.

“Mm, no, I promised Michael I’d be early this time.” You said, moving to get up. Aemond sighed as he turned to lay on his back. “Of course, can’t have Michael waiting now can we?” He grumbled. You tutted his name in scolding, walking away from the bed to his dresser where he kept a drawer of spare clothes for you. His good eye watched you as you started getting dressed, a low chuckle falling from his lips at the slight limp as you walked around in his room.

“What?” You sassed, narrowing your eyes at his snickering form. He only shook his head, an amused glint in his eye, dimples showing as he smiled. 

You stood in front of the mirror, fixing your hair when Aemond, now clad in his boxers, approached from behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close to him. His head dipped to snuggle into the skin of your neck, silver locks falling around him like a curtain. You giggled as his hair tickled you, making him let out a breathy chuckle as he kissed your neck once more. One blue eye met yours in the mirror, a pleased sigh falling from your lips as you leaned your head against his. Your heart swelled with affection for him, your eyes shone as you stared back at him with a smile. 

The tender moment between the pair of you gets interrupted by the ping! that comes from your BlackBerry. Aemond resisted the urge to roll his eye, knowing fully well who that could be from. 

You and Michael Gavey had your tutorials together. He was a year below you, but you often found yourself seeking him for help with some of your classwork. He was a pure genius, something he most certainly does not hide. However, you’ve noticed he doesn’t seem to get along well with a lot of his peers. Truthfully, you were still yet to see him with a friend, other than Oliver Quick, though you know that didn’t last long as you’ve now started seeing him around with Felix Catton, the pair now stuck at the hip. On the occasional nights when you and Aemond joined Felix and his little bunch, timid Oliver seemed to take on a new persona, acting so different than when he only had Michael as his friend. Though Michael’s personality can be quite off-putting to most, you’ve found that he can be quite sweet, to you at least. You felt the need to look out for him. When Aemond was in class, you often sat with Michael at the library or brought him to the pub when your tutorials finished a bit later. 

This bothered Aemond, of course. Your boyfriend was possessive as ever, and though he knew you were treating Michael this way out of your pure, genuine kindness for a friend, he wasn’t so sure if the math nerd saw it the same way. He’d seen the way Michael looked at you, like you were the first woman he had ever seen. It was quite pathetic, the way he would catch him often following your tail like a lost puppy as you exited the building together. You had tried to get Aemond to warm up to Michael on the occasions your friend joined you and your boyfriend at the pub. They had strong personalities and were ridiculously smart in their own interests, often acting so similar that it almost irked you. 

Aemond had started to tolerate Michael’s presence only after you asked him sweetly so many times. He could never deny his girl, and if it made you happy he would listen to Michael complain about the idiots in his classes all the time. Still, he couldn’t ignore the jealousy that sparked in his chest every time you had to leave him to spend time with Gavey. 

As another notification dinged from your phone, Aemond pulled away from you to let you finish getting ready, grumbling under his breath. He walked over to sit by the window ledge, lighting a cigarette after he opened the window. 

“You know Michael has been busy seeing a girl lately?” You mentioned, still focused on your face in the mirror as you dabbed some blush on your cheek. Aemond scoffed as he heard you, unbelieving of Michael’s ability to charm a woman. “Yeah? Does the girl know they’re seeing each other?” He snorted, catching the glare you threw his way.

“Of course she does, babe, don’t be ridiculous.” You said, running a hairbrush as a feeble attempt to fix the tangles in your hair. “Think he said her name’s Stacy or whatever.”

Aemond’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead at the mention of her name. He couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that fell from his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. You turned to him confused, starting to grow annoyed with the way he was acting. “What’s so funny?”

It took a couple of seconds before he could answer, his shoulder shaking as he chuckled. “Stacey? Stacey Owens? With the..” He explained, pointing to his chest, referring to the blonde’s tits. Realization dawned on your face as you remembered who he was referring to.

Stacey Owens used to be one of Felix’s flings, hanging around their group for a little while before things between them fizzled out. She was always clad in either the tiniest tops paired with skirts the size of a belt, or hot pink velour Juicy tracksuits. Blonde, gorgeous, and blessed with the most perfect voluptuous pair of tits you’ve ever seen. You even asked her which bra she wore once, just because they always looked pushed up to her chin. Stacey was sweet, but she was a little… slow. It always took the poor girl a couple of moments to catch when a joke was being played on her, but even then it was visible in her eyes that she didn’t fully get it. 

“Huh. Didn’t know that was Michael’s type.” You said, clearly stunned. What an interesting pair those two must make. You couldn’t even imagine what those two talk about, let alone have anything in common.  

“You think he’s blackmailing her or what?” Your boyfriend quipped, still heavily amused by the news.

“Aemond!”

You laid on your single bed in your dorm room, head half hanging on the edge of the bed while Michael sat on the floor, leaning on your bed beside you. You had invited him over to your room after your tutorials just to hang out, though his idea of hanging out included asking you math trivia. “Do you know how many moves it takes to solve a Rubik’s cube?” He asked, fiddling with what he called a Mirror Block, which looked pretty much like a standard cube except its proportions weren’t uniform. 

“20.” Aemond piped up, answering before you could. He arrived just shortly after his lecture finished, settling on your computer chair, and read his book quietly while you and Michael chatted. You frowned as you thought about the times you’ve attempted to solve a cube, it most definitely did not take you 20 moves to accomplish. “No way, really?” You turned to Michael, who simply hummed an ‘mhm’. 

“Here’s a question for you, mate…” Aemond said, tossing his book on your desk to turn his attention to Gavey’s unassuming form. “Stacey Owens, huh?”

“I– Uh, we’re– I’m just tutoring her.” Poor Michael stuttered, his cheeks reddening almost immediately at the mention of the bombshell’s name. You turned around to lay on your stomach, slapping Michael’s shoulder, exclaiming, “What, Michael! You said you were taking her out tonight!” 

“No, it’s just… she just wanted to celebrate for doing well on her exam. We’re just going to the pub, it’s nothing special, really.” He explained, rubbing at his ears anxiously as his eyes fell to his lap. Your eyes met your boyfriend’s, who took on a mischievous glint in his eye. He was planning something, you were almost sure of it. “I can think of a way you two can celebrate,” Aemond said to Michael, though his eye stayed on you. Your eyebrows raised at him, starting to get what he was insinuating. The silver-haired man merely smirked at you, before training his eye on Gavey.

“Oh yeah?” Michael asked, genuinely curious. He really liked Stacey, though his lack of experience in the romance category and his overall awkward personality made him insecure and unsure of what to do about his feelings for her. “Easy, just take her back to yours.” Aemond suggested, shrugging nonchalantly. You watched as your friend only blinked at him in response. “To do what?” He queried, still clueless. Michael supposed he could show her how to play the latest video game he has been obsessed with, though he wasn’t sure Stacey would enjoy that.  

“Oh, come on, Gavey. Don’t act as if you’ve never brought back a girl to your room for some fun before.” Aemond teased, though he seemed to be proven correct when Michael didn’t answer, fiddling with his cube again. He never said it out loud, but he assumed just as much. 

“Stop it.” You scolded him, your boyfriend merely shrugging, throwing his hands up in mock surrender as you glared at him, making you sigh. You turned to Michael, who was still flushed up to the tip of his ears. “Ignore him, Michael.” 

You felt bad for him, truly, and wanted to help him impress Stacey as much as you could. Michael sat in thought for a moment, gathering the urge to open up to the two people he considered his friends… well, he’s not sure about Aemond, but you are definitely the closest friend he has in Oxford. 

“Well, I-I want to, I mean just look at her! Fuck’s sake, who wouldn’t?” He rambled, hands waving around as he spoke. There had been one too many occasions where Michael had to excuse himself when his dick would get hard at the slightest touch from Stacey, or from you, but he would never admit that, especially not in front of Aemond. He desperately wants to and is frustrated to no end because of his lack of experience. It’s not like this is something he can read in a textbook after all. “I just… I don’t know how.” Michael finally admitted, sighing. He looked at the both of you, anticipating you to break out in laughter in his face. None of it came, though Aemond was the one to speak up.

“We could teach you.” He suggested, catching both you and Michael in surprise. The latter stammered, clearly flustered at the proposal. He turned to you, expecting you to be outraged at your boyfriend for his indecent suggestion, but there were no signs of objection on your face. “Only if you want to, Michael.” You smiled.

“How?” Michael asked.

You turned to Aemond since this was clearly his idea. As your eyes met, Michael felt the change in the air between the two of you. He’d felt it before when he would be with the pair of you and the atmosphere would suddenly change into something charged. It would always feel like he was intruding on something, but this time he felt the energy being directed towards him. Aemond looked at you with a lustful glint in his eye and gives you a subtle nod. You turned back to your friend on the floor and said, “Aemond’ll tell you what to do, and then you try it on me.” 

Michael took another look at the both of you, making sure this wasn’t some sick game you were playing on him. When he was met with encouraging looks from the couple, he took a deep breath and then nodded. “Okay.” He agreed, making a mischievous smile break out on Aemond’s face. You sat up, feet dangling over where your head had been, excitement prickling underneath your skin at being the boys’ little test subject.

“Right, well first things first, you gotta know how to kiss a girl, yeah?” Aemond started, gesturing for Michael to try. “Go on.” He urged. Michael kneeled in front of you, a clammy hand cupping your jaw. “Is this okay?” He whispered to you, earning a nod and an encouraging smile from you. You both leaned forward and he pecked your lips, pulling away immediately to test your reaction.

“Come on, mate. You gotta do more than that.” Aemond interjected. Deciding to take the lead for a bit, you leaned forward to kiss Michael deeper, just to get him to loosen up and get familiar with the sensation. As your mouths parted, Aemond urged him to use his tongue. He followed the instruction, experimentally dipping his tongue into your mouth, grunting in surprise as your tongue met his. Michael’s hands clenched into fists beside your thighs, his cock already straining painfully hard in his cargo pants from kissing alone. 

“You can touch her, mate. She won’t bite, not unless you ask.” Aemond encouraged him. As you continued to make out, Michael placed his hands on your shoulders at first, before sliding down to your waist. You both pulled away, catching your breath. His thin frames had gone slightly askew, and you huffed a soft laugh as your fingers reach up to fix it for him. “Why don’t you try kissing my neck?” You suggested this time. He took no second to do so, peppering kisses down your neck. Michael gave an experimental suck on your skin, attempting to give you a hickey, which made you gasp.

“No marks.” Aemond warned which Michael immediately obeyed, switching back to giving your neck kisses and soft licks, tugging very lightly on the skin that wouldn’t leave any mark. Your hand caressed the back of his head, and your eyes flickered to your boyfriend, who stared at you with an intense look that made your face warm. Next, Aemond instructed Michael to take off your bottoms. You helped him tug them off, your panties going along with your shorts. You leaned back on your hands, spreading your legs to give Michael a view, who visibly gulped at the sight. His cock twitched at the sight, his eyes unable to tear away at your folds that started to drip. Of course, he’d seen a pussy before… but not in real life. No amount of porn could have prepared him for actually being face to face as one as delectable and pink as yours. 

“She’s got a pretty pussy, doesn’t she? Gets really nice and wet.” Aemond boasted. The lustful gazes coming from both men made your nipples hard, your arousal starting to drip from your slit in anticipation. “Now, before you start pleasuring a woman, you’ve got to tease her a bit. They like that.” He told Michael, instructing him to start with light touches. Gavey started to kiss and lightly suck on the inside of your thighs, just like he did with your neck, squeezing the meat of your flesh in his hands. Your breath started to grow heavy, and as his index finger lightly runs down your slit, he earned another gasp from you. Emboldened by your reaction, Michael repeated the action but presses a little more. His finger rubbed on your folds, marveling at how your essence coats his fingertip. A soft whimper fell from your lips, and your hips started to squirm in search of more. 

“Why don’t you show him your clit, baby?” Aemond prompted you. Two fingers spread your folds, revealing more of your pussy while your free hand takes Michael’s and places it on your pearl. He is instructed to rub it, not too hard, and was in awe at the instant effects it has on you. He could see your hardened nipples through the fabric of your tank top, the sight making his cock jump. A moan falling from your lips encouraged him, his thumb rubbing your nub a little faster. “Does this feel good?” He asked you, to which you respond with an enthusiastic nod. 

The next thing Aemond instructed Michael to do was to use his tongue. “Start slow, then you can go deeper.” He advised, to which Michael follows by giving your slit a few licks. You tasted utterly divine, even better than his beloved crunchies. Michael couldn’t believe the position he found himself in. If someone told him 6 months ago, he would be nose deep into the pussy of the girl who gave him a sweet smile on their first tutorial, all the while her boyfriend watched– encouraged him, the math geek would’ve rolled his eyes and thought a prank was being played on him. He was starting to get lost in your taste, following his urges as he started eating your pussy out in earnest as Aemond guides him. 

As he became much more confident in his actions, Michael combined the things Aemond has taught him so far as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit while his mouth continued to pleasure you. The room is filled with the sound of your moans, the wet sounds coming from between your thighs, and Aemond’s voice as he guided Michael. A hand gripped his hair while your hips started to gyrate on his face, moving on its own accord. Your eyes met Aemond’s, who now had his legs spread wider, the imprint of his hard cock straining against his sweats as he watched you. His gaze stayed on your face, watching as your brows furrowed and your jaw fell slack, moans openly falling from your lips.

If there’s anything Aemond loved to do, it was to watch you take your pleasure. He loved watching you throw back your head, tits bouncing in his face every time you rode his cock. He's even made you play with yourself while he jerked off at the sight of you spilling around your own fingers. His favorite memory, however, one that instantly stirs his cock when he remembers, was when you made a little show of fucking yourself on a dildo suctioned to the floor, squirting all over the surface as you finished. As possessive as your boyfriend can be, you knew he was enjoying this almost as much as Michael is. 

To help finish you off, Michael is urged to use his fingers. Two fingers entered you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. He curves them, just like he’s seen in the pornos (for research, of course). “Curve your finge— There you go.” Aemond commended him, apparently needing no instruction for that one. You threw your head back in delight when Michael found that rough patch within you. “Fuck, right there!” You moaned out, eyes rolling back as his fingertips massaged that spot. The coil in your belly grew tighter, threatening to break, while your walls clenched around Michael’s fingers tight, much to his amazement.

“Aem– Oh!” You barely caught yourself, biting your lips hard as Michael hurled you towards your precipice. He didn’t seem to mind your little slip, barely even noticing as he stares in awe at how your pussy swallowed his fingers whole, your juices making it squelch. The last thing Aemond told him to do was to suck on your clit, to which he happily obliged. Your thighs shook around his head, your fingers gripped his dirty blonde tresses tightly as you ground your hips on his face. The sensation of his nose against you added to the overwhelming sensation that threatened to wash you over. You turned to Aemond, eyes pleading to let you cum. When he nodded, you let yourself go, letting out a long whine as you spilled on Michael’s fingers. You plopped back on your bed as you finished, mind hazy, not even noticing the way Michael moaned as he tasted your release on his fingers. 

Aemond approached you with a damp towel he somehow procured, wiping you clean, before handing it to Michael to clean off his hand. Your boyfriend rubbed your calf, squeezing it softly. “What do you think, baby? D’you think Michael’s ready?” He asked you, making you lift your head to look at the two men who stared down at you. “I think Stacey’s a very lucky girl.” You said, still breathless from your orgasm. 

After cleaning up, Michael received a text from Stacey as the hour of their date approached. With a wave and wish of good luck from you, your friend took his leave with Aemond walking him to the door.

“You were okay with this, right?” Michael asked the silver-haired man, who nodded.

“Yeah, mate, don’t worry about it, alright? I’m happy to help.” Aemond reassured him. Michael let out a sigh, before muttering a ‘thank you’. He stepped out of the door, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Listen, Michael,” Aemond said, making him turn back around to face him. The Targaryen looked back to check on you, before turning back to Michael, speaking lowly, “This was just a one-time thing, alright? She really looks out for you, and I know how much she cares for you. We both want this to work out with you and Stacey.” 

Michael nodded, completely understanding. He can’t even begin how thankful he is for the two of you, no doubt making a big fool of himself if you hadn't taught him this stuff. “Thanks, mate, really.” He thanked him. Aemond nodded, before patting the younger man on the shoulder. “Don’t be too nervous. Just be yourself, yeah? She’ll be obsessed with you after tonight if you remember what I taught you.” He advised him. Michael scratched the back of his head with a chuckle and nodded.

When Michael left for his date, Aemond walked back to you after closing the door behind him. You were still lying on your bed, knees bent, now sans your top. Your hands fondled your breasts as you watched him approach you, teasing your nipples as desire coursed through you from the hungry look in his eye. As much as you enjoyed the way Michael brought you to your release, your core still pulsed in need for Aemond.

“You had your fun tonight, didn’t you baby?” He asked, hands coming to your knees to spread them wide. His eye fell on your pussy that was still glistening with the combination of your arousal and Michael’s spit. You nodded your head at him, biting your lip.

“Mhm. Told you he'd agree to it. I know you liked it too, Daddy.” You teased, foot coming up to rub at his cock that still strained at his sweats, no doubt aching with release. Aemond smirked down at you, and slipped off his shirt, before pulling down his pants, cock slapping against his abs as it's released.

He fucked you well through the night, manhandling you into positions that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and leaving you in utter bliss when you both finally tapped out from exhaustion. 

Walking out of your tutorial, you and Michael spotted Aemond leaning outside the stone wall of the building. You greet your boyfriend with a kiss, and he turns to Michael with a nod. The three of you chatted for a bit, but a voice from behind you interrupted your conversation, making all three of you turn towards the source.

“Mikey!” Stacey called out, before practically jumping into a surprised Michael’s arms. She cupped his face into her hands, before smashing their lips together. You were taken aback as they practically started eating each other’s faces in front of you, while Aemond sported an amused smirk on his face, even looking quite impressed at Michael’s growth in confidence. 

When they finally pulled away, Michael introduced Stacey to you and Aemond as his friends, to which she enthusiastically greeted both of you, even pulling you into a tight hug, much to your surprise. As the blonde squeezed you tight, Aemond clapped Michael on the back in approval.

“Seems like you’re quite the fast learner, Gavey.”

#bella writes ✍️ #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #aemond fic recs #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey #saltburn #house of the dragon #hotd #ewan mitchell

[thekinslayed]

Thy Mission

summary | The lines between desire and duty blur between the Targaryen brothers on their last night before a battle.

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI, oral sex (m), p in v sex, anal, mentions of war, double vaginal penetration, incest, Aemond Fucks™, porn w little plot, mentions of sex work, just pure filth tbh

wordcount | 5.1k

note | this was inspired by Uneasy Lies The Head by @troublesomesnitch! her work is absolutely amazing and i highly recommend for everyone to check them out!

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! <3

(dividers by @targaryen-dynasty)

Aemond marched across an array of tents that lined their encampment. He passed horses being fed, blades being sharpened, and fires where the men roasted game for supper. A sneer adorned his lips as he passed by a group of soldiers sat around logs, giggling whores on their laps. How these women managed to follow their army and could stand being around these stinking, grubby men, he knew not the reason. They were at war, and he had no time to indulge in such depravity.

He hastened to reach Aegon’s tent, situated at the far end of the camp. The King’s accommodation was larger than the rest and was well guarded, or rather, it usually was. His Kingsguard were nowhere near their station, making Aemond stop in his tracks to search for any White Cloaks. He found none.

Ever the wary soldier, his hand gripped the hilt of his sword in case of any threat that may jump out of nowhere. Strange sounds came from behind the tarp of his brother’s tent, a bemoaning from Aegon that made Aemond rush in through the flaps of the tent. 

“Aeg– Seven Hells!” Aemond cursed, the sight of the King’s pale arse greeted him as he entered his tent. Aegon’s standing figure barely covered your figure kneeled before him, taking his cock earnestly as he thrusted into your mouth. Groans left the King’s lips, his pace never faltering despite his brother’s intrusion. Aemond lifted a hand to shield the sight from his eyes, quickly turning around to leave, but is stopped.

“Fuck– Brother, wait!” Aegon called out, panting as he chased his release. 

“I can wait outside.”

“Just give me one sec– fuck, that’s it.” Aegon breathed out, praises falling from his lips as you took him further down your throat. The sound of your mouth eagerly sucking his cock filled the room, coupled with the moans falling from the King’s lips. Aemond rolled his eye and doesn’t leave, but instead turned around to face the wall of the tent. The elder chuckled as he turned to the sight of his brother’s back. Fucking prude.

The intrusion and the feeling of having an audience drove Aegon closer to his release. His hips picked up its pace, his cockhead hit the back of your throat brutally almost to the point of gagging you. You whimpered around his length, tongue pressed on the underside of his cock as you fondled his stones.

Breathy moans grew louder as he gripped your hair, rather exaggerating for his audience of one. His balls tightened at the thought of cumming while his brother watched, looking back to see if Aemond had turned around. He had not. As he approached his end, Aegon took his cock out of your mouth and tugged at it furiously. Coughing lightly from the assault on your throat, you hastened to free your breasts from your shift, presenting it to your King to accept his seed, just like he liked it. Your jaw fell agape as Aegon’s cock spurted his white, hot release, painting your tits. A final groan left his lips, before stepping away from you.

“What is it, brother?” Aegon asked after a moment, chest still panting. 

“Cole needs your input on th-”

“Turn around and face your King when you speak.” The elder ordered. Aemond gritted his teeth, sighing in exasperation as he turned around to face his brother. He is met with the sight of you, still on your knees, and Aegon’s glistening cock that started to soften. He is granted a better view of you as his brother walked away to fetch a cloth.

One amethyst eye fell on your chest, the royal seed still dripping around your mounds, some even had trickled down to the skin still covered by your shift. His cock stirred in his trousers at the sight, gulping at the flame that started to ignite in his belly. Tearing his gaze from your breasts, his eye flickered to your face. Your eyes met, and you gave him a meek smile. 

With a rag in hand, Aegon returned with a smirk on his face at his brother’s hungry gaze on you. His softened cock swayed as he walked, tossing you the clean cloth to wipe yourself before approaching the serving table where a jug of wine and clean glasses sat. He poured a cup of red, taking a small swig before handing it to you, which you accepted with a gracious smile.

“So…” Aegon spoke, tearing Aemond’s attention away from following your lips as you sipped your wine. “Is something the matter?” He asked as he began to dress.

Aemond cleared his throat, before meeting Aegon’s eyes. The tips of his ears warmed up at the amused look on Aegon’s face, no doubt having caught him staring at you unabashedly. 

“Cole requires your presence in the council, your grace. The plans need your approval before the move on the morrow.” The younger prince informed him. Aegon let out a groan at his words, rolling his eyes as Aemond gave him a stern look.

“You know of these plans, yes?” The elder asked. You rose from your place on the ground to assist him with putting on his doublet.

“Of course.”

“Do they seem acceptable to you?” The king asked once more. Aemond clenched his fists as he tied them around his back, his patience was running thin at his brother’s lack of urgency. “I think we have favorable circumstances.”

“Then why do you need my approval?”

“Because you’re the fucking King.” Aemond snapped. Your eyes shifted warily between the brothers as they stared at each other, fingers hurrying to finish securing the last clasp on the King’s doublet. Aegon’s lips quirked upwards, which caused Aemond’s nostrils to flare in annoyance. Your hands smoothed down his chest as you finished, stepping off to the side as they left wordlessly. 

As the brothers left, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in. A thickness in the air dissipated from the tent with their departure, a blazing tension that can burn a mere lowborn like you, but one only dragons could handle. You had never seen such fire between two people, especially not in brothers. Curiosity sparked within you, an eagerness to witness what these Targaryens must get up to, or if they had acted upon these desires at all.

“Does your whoring know no bounds, brother? Even at war?” Aemond berated as the brothers made their way to where their council waited. His longer legs made for bigger strides, Aegon having to walk faster to keep up with the younger, grumbling under his breath.

“That is exactly the point, brother. We face the possibility of dying at any given moment. Would you rather die having never known the pleasure of having your cock sucked?” Aegon retorted, earning a scoff from the other silver-haired prince in return. 

Aemond’s had his cock sucked before, of course. He’s fucked through young ladies and servants at court almost as much as Aegon had. As much as his brother thought him a blushing prude, he was still a man who had needs. He just did a better job in keeping his head in authority over his cock, and his… endeavors kept within the confines of his chambers.

The pair paid no attention to the people that bowed and greeted them as they passed, and continued their path to where Cole awaited them in the tent located at the center of camp. As the brothers approached, one of the men standing guard lifted the tarp to let them through.

“You know, if you ever decided on getting off your high horse and fucking live a little, I am more than happy to share,” Aegon suggested, his tone teasing as the back of his hand slapped the one-eyed prince’s firm shoulder. Long silver tresses whipped across his face as Aemond turned back to him briskly before he could react.

“Enough.” The younger hissed, before turning back around to dip through the tent's entrance. Aegon let out a cackle at his brother’s dramatics, following after him.

“Deny yourself all you want, brother, but I know you love a good pair of tits.”

At the hour of the owl, Aemond was ordered to the king’s tent. For a pressing matter of the utmost discretion, the squire had said. His tent was right beside Aegon, and he knew not the reason why the fucker couldn’t have made the short walk if the matter was so urgent. 

Nevertheless, the prince made his way to his brother’s pavilion, clad in only his cotton tunic and breeches, ducking through the canvas to enter. There was no Aegon in sight, however, Aemond was met with the sight of you kneeled on the cot, leaning on your elbows with your arse on display. His eye widened as your eyes met, watching as you scrambled to cover your bottom half and sat up. 

“My prince!” You greeted him, cheeks flushing red. Aemond’s eye trailed over your garments. A thin, almost translucent, white fabric covered your front, tied behind your back by a golden-colored rope. Your back was exposed, and the fabric dipped down to drape over your rear. He could see your breasts through the glow cast by the oil lamps scattered around the vicinity, the shadows emphasizing the way your nipples pebbled in the cold night air.

“Where is my brother?” He asked, tone stern as he clasped his hands behind his back. His discerning eye caught the open vial of oil on the wooden table beside the cot.

“H-his grace’s attention was needed elsewhere, my prince. Something about feeding his dragon.” You stuttered, growing anxious as the prince closed his eye and sighed. He turned to leave the tent, but your sweet voice called out to him.

“He should return any moment.” You said, getting up from the cot to stand. “Would you like a cup of wine as you wait?” You offered, hands wrung together as he stared at you.

You felt like shrinking under his sharp gaze, gooseflesh formed on your skin as his pupil seemed to dilate at the sight of you. He let out a hum and nodded, stepping back into the tent. You hastily poured him a cup of wine, reaching out to offer it to him as he sat on the edge of Aegon’s cot. A gasp threatened to leave your lips when his warm hand covered your smaller one as he took the cup. It is raised to his thin lips, tongue darting out to lick at them as his throat bobbed when he swallowed. 

“Where are you from, girl?” The prince asked, another hum leaving his lips as you told him of your homeland. You watched as his veiny hand traced the embellishments adorning the shiny cup, long fingers trailed along the rim. “You are a long way from home.” He commented.

“Indeed, my prince.” You responded, smiling bashfully. You had been on your journey to work in a brothel in the Street of Silk when word had reached you and the girls you traveled with about the King’s army taking camp not too far from where you were. All of you made your way over to the encampment, eager to provide your services to the soldiers weary from battle. There was no doubt most of you hoped to be called upon by one of the royals who resided at the site, well aware of the King’s proclivities. Tonight, it seemed, was your lucky night.

“I imagine a tent in the middle of the woods is far from the comforts of your own home, my prince.” You mentioned, boldly taking a step closer to his seated form. His head leaned up to look at your face, his eyelid hooded as he regarded you.

“There is little comfort to be expected during war.” He uttered, earning a nod from you.

“Still, solace can still be sought out anywhere, should you look hard enough.” You remarked, a smooth tone in your words. His knees had bumped lightly into the outside of your thighs as you stepped into his space, looking down at him with a seductive smile. Aemond’s hand twitched when he felt an urge to touch you, causing him to grip the cup in his hand tightly. “I could provide that for you… if you would like.” You suggested, voice dropping to a whisper. 

His eye darkened at your words, igniting a spark of excitement within you. You stared at each other for a moment longer, your heart thumping loudly against your chest in anticipation. The prince dropped the cup of wine to the grass with little regard, before gripping your hips to pull you into his lap. 

You climbed onto his lap eagerly, thighs caging his own. His lips smashed onto yours in a frenzy of teeth, tongue, and spit. You moaned against his lips as his hand gripped the hair on the back of your head. His free hand slithered around your lower back, pushing your weight down onto his growing bulge. Your hips ground down on him with expertise, fingers lifting the hem of your garments to show him your center. His jaw dropped ever so slightly at the sight of your cunny humping on his clothed cock, your essence started to smear on the dark fabric of his trousers as your hips circled his lap. Pink lips attached to the pale skin of his neck, licking and biting on his flesh. You preened at the sounds of his low grunts in your ear and the appreciative smack he delivered to your rear before squeezing it.

Large calloused hands trailed the smooth expanse of your back, the warmth radiating from him a satisfying contrast from the chill night air. His fingers reached the knot on the back of your neck, toying with it.

“Take it off.” Aemond commanded, tone stern and commanding. You immediately obeyed, rising from his lips to stand, before reaching back to undo the tie holding up your garment. The thin fabric dropped into a puddle of white on the floor, your flesh bared to the prince’s eye. A small smirk rose on your lips as you watched how his gaze ran down your body, delighted at the hungry look that clouds his purple eye. You turned around and bent over, giving him a view of your glistening pink folds. 

Aemond could feel the throbbing in his trousers at the sight of your cunny, a warmth spread from his chest as the urge to ravish you threatened to overtake him. What caught his eye, however, is the way your puckered hole also gleamed in the warm glow of the tent. His mind recalled the way you had been on your knees when he had entered, as well as the vial of oil that sat open beside you. He all but salivated at the mental image of you stretching your tight back hole as you waited for Aegon.

The younger prince always had a bad habit of wanting whatever his older brother was given– the crown, the Conqueror’s sword, and the glory that came with sitting on the throne. If he had the chance he would snatch everything that wastrel was freely given, he was more deserving of it after all.

And now Aegon wasn’t here, and Aemond would be a fool to not claim the delectable morsel of flesh before him. 

He stood from the cot and threw you onto the feather mattress, ordering you to get on your knees. You wordlessly obliged, excitement pooling in your belly at the younger prince’s dominant nature. The king often had contrasting personalities in bed, you had discovered, depending on his mood. There were some moments when he would take and take all that you could give, treating you as a mere hole to fuck, but oftentimes he would be a babbling, pathetic mess, and you would have to soothe and take care of the tearful man that suckled on your teat like a baby lamb. You enjoyed your time with the King, but the dark look in Prince Aemond’s eye as he manhandled you as if you were a sack of grain exhilarated you, causing your core to clench around nothing. He grabbed the vial of oil from the side table, before untying his breeches as he took his place behind you. Your position prevented you from getting a view of his cock, but you heard the slick sounds of his hand slathering oil on his shaft, and a few sighs falling from his lips. A breath hitched in your throat as you felt his cockhead align with your hole, a whine falling from your lips as he started to breach.

Aemond cursed at the way your tight ring of muscles gripped his cock. It took almost all of his restraint to not push into you in one motion, your walls clenching as you struggled to take his length. It seemed to take forever for him to bottom out, more whines fell from your lips as he still slowly thrusted into you inch after inch. Though you haven’t caught a glimpse of his length, you were sure he was longer than Aegon. 

“Ha, so fucking tight…” Aemond cursed. His hands squeezed the plump flesh of your arse, hips still unmoving as he gave you a moment to adjust. As he felt your hole start to relax, your hips wiggled against him slightly to urge him to move. His hips started to set a steady pace, a groan fell from his lips as he felt every ridge of your walls.

“Here I thought a whore like you would be looser than a worn-out glove. Isn’t that what you were doing when I came in, hm? Stretching out this tight little hole of yours?” Aemond questioned, earning only a moan from you in response. A dark chuckle fell from his lips, before delivering another smack to your rear.

“I haven’t started fucking you yet, girl. Have you gotten drunk on my cock already?” Your cheeks burned at his words, your hands fisted the soft sheets as the prince thrusted deep into you. Aemond’s hips started to pick up their pace, his thrusts growing harder and harder. The sounds of his flesh slapping against yours started to fill the vicinity along with your moans, no doubt heard by anyone close enough to the King’s tent. The silver-haired prince continued to ram into you, his own moans of delight left his lips as he threw his head back in pleasure. 

More slaps to your ass caused the flesh to sting, and the soft rub from his hands soothed the reddening flesh. Tears started to gather in the corner of your eyes, sobs fell from your lips when Aemond pulled on your hair to lift your head back. You felt his bare chest press to your back, unaware of when he removed his tunic. The weight of his warm body on yours was a welcome sensation. His lips positioned right next to your ear, biting at your lobe before whispering.

“Touch yourself. Go on, show me how you cum with my cock in your tight hole.” He ordered you, warm breath fanning the side of your face as he spoke. Your fingers immediately fell on your pearl, urgently rubbing circles on the nub to hurl you closer to your release. Aemond grunted as your walls close in around his length, making it almost too tight for him to continue thrusting into you. Your moans increased in pitch as the coil in your belly threatened to snap, uncaring of whoever might hear you. A particularly harsh thrust from Aemond threw you over, a long whine escaped your lips as your juices gushed out of your empty core.

The prince continued to fuck you through your orgasm, thrusts still unrelenting as he chased his own release. A heat licked at the base of Aemond’s spine, crawling upwards as he neared his end. He was so close, your spasming walls pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“What do we have here?” An amused voice spoke, cutting through the cloudy daze both you and the prince found yourself in. Aemond grunted in annoyance, hips stilling at the sight of his brother stood with a devilish smile on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” The younger seethed, cock still buried in your hole as he regarded Aegon. The entrance of the tent faced his blindside, making him unaware of his brother’s arrival, nor of how long he had been watching them.

“Long enough to see how much you have been enjoying yourself. Please, brother, carry on. Do not let my presence hinder you.” Aegon urged on, stepping into the pavilion, the scent of smoke following him. He shot you a wink when your eyes meet, before walking over to the serving table to pour himself some wine. The high that was close to washing over Aemond had died down at his brother’s intrusion, and if it weren’t for your hips wiggling against his and your shining eyes staring back at him, he would have left and brought himself to release in the privacy of his tent. Keeping his eye on you, the prince tried his hardest to ignore the sound of Aegon moving around behind him.

It wasn’t long until he was lost once more in the sweet sounds that fell from your lips, uncaring about his brother’s eyes on his back as the coil in his belly tightened again. He clenched his eye shut, focusing on the delicious sensation of your ridged walls. When he opened his eye, Aemond was taken aback to see Aegon, somehow already naked, directing his cock to your lips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The younger snapped. Aegon doesn’t stop despite his brother’s annoyance, sighing as you started to suck on his cock.

“Oh please, Aemond, she has enough holes for us to share. She’ll be happy to have both our cocks.” Aegon scoffed, his hips setting their pace. “Wouldn’t you, darling?” He cooed, caressing the back of your head as you nodded at him as much as you could, whimpering.

Aemond’s eye fell on the sight of Aegon’s cock disappearing into your mouth, his brother’s stomach tightening. The tips of his ears flushed red as a spark ignited in him that made his cock throb, one he convinced himself was from the squeeze you gave him. He tore his eye away from the sight of you and Aegon, pulling out of your hole with a sigh of frustration. Aemond had started to tuck his still-hard cock back into his trousers when Aegon stopped him.

“W-where are you going?” His brother asked, breathless. The younger only stared at him, observing how Aegon’s face contorted in pleasure when you started to fondle his balls. Forcing himself to withdraw from your mouth, the King turned to face Aemond.

“Our father and uncle must have shared women all the time, Aemond. Don’t be such a priss.” Aegon remarked, causing his brother to scoff. “Come on, you haven’t even tried her cunt yet. It is heavenly!” He encouraged, gesturing to you. Still on your knees, you turned to meet Aemond’s gaze, giving him an encouraging smile. His eye falls on your dripping cunny, the flames of his desire being stoked once more.

You turned around to lay on your back, spreading your legs wide for your prince. Leaning on your elbows, it was then you finally got a good look at Aemond’s cock. It was long, as you expected, and veiny. His cockhead blushed a deep red, the slit dripping a clear liquid. The sight made you gulp as another gush of arousal dripped from your core. You looked between the two men, assessing their sizes. Aemond had the length, while Aegon had more girth.

The prince looked at you, then at Aegon, who slowly stroked his cock while looking back at him.

Fuck it.

The younger prince pulled his trousers down, stepping out of them before gripping your thighs, pressing them to your chest. A gasp left your lips in surprise as he enters in one swift motion, the intrusion giving you little time to adjust to his impressive length. Immediately, he fucked you with an animalistic pace. There was a sense of urgency in his thrusts, having been denied his release twice because of Aegon’s presence. Moans openly fell from your lips at the way his tip kissed your cervix deliciously, another wave of release drawing closer with each thrust. Before you could react, a hand grips the side of your face, the elder turning you to his cock once more. He thrusted into your mouth, resuming his earlier pace as you sucked on his length. The King threw his head back as your moans vibrated around his cock, sending a spark of pleasure through his veins. The two silver-haired men chased their release, both equally unrelenting in their thrusts. However, you were the first to break among the three of you. Your thighs spasmed as your core clenched, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Aemond’s cock continued to drive into you as a broken moan fell from your cock-filled mouth when you spill around his length. He moaned as you pulsed around him, his long-awaited climax starting to wash over him like the tide. The prince pulled out of you in haste, furiously tugging at his shaft, spurting hot seed onto your stomach as he groaned in delight. 

Seeing his younger brother spill his seed triggered the older Targaryen’s release. With his eyes locked onto the way Aemond’s cockhead let out spurts of cum, Aegon spilled his own royal seed onto your breasts with a curse. You moaned at the warm sensation of their seeds painting your flesh, turning to look at the two royals who were catching their breath. 

Their cocks were still hard, which meant there was still more to come. Another spark of arousal coursed through you, making you clench your thighs together. The two brothers met each other’s gazes, the air shifting into something different as their eyes met. Aemond felt a strange feeling in his chest, unable to tear his gaze away from his brother’s flushed expression.

With his eyes still on his younger brother, Aegon ordered you, “Why don’t you ride my brother’s cock, darling?”

Both you and Aemond settled into position at the King’s authoritative tone. The prince sat on the edge of the cot, gripping your waist as you aligned yourself above his cock. A sharp inhale left the both of you as you sank onto his length, your core still sensitive from your last peak. You started to ride his cock, his hands guiding you up and down. Aemond was tantalized by the sight of your tits bouncing in his face. They were still covered in Aegon’s seed, though the prince paid it no mind as he took one of your breasts into his mouth. The cum tasted salty in his mouth, though he continued to suck on your teat while burying down the shame building in his consciousness. Aemond could sense his brother approaching the two of you, hard cock sitting heavy in his hand. Aegon’s hand urged you to lean forward, causing Aemond to lean back onto his elbow as your hips stilled momentarily. You felt Aegon’s cockhead run down your puckered hole, expecting him to claim it. But before you could react, Aegon started to breach your already full cunt.

“Your grace, wai– Oh!” You squealed, the sensation taking you by surprise. You had never felt this full before, and the stretch made you bite your lips as you struggled to take both cocks. Aemond was equally caught by surprise, his grip on your hips tightening as you clenched. When Aegon had managed to insert his cock into you fully, you clung onto Aemond’s shoulders at the overwhelming feeling. The two Targaryens started to thrust into you, finding a uniform rhythm.

With a whine, you wrapped your arms around Aemond’s neck, pressing your front, still sticky with both their seeds, against his firm chest.

With your head buried into his shoulder, Aemond had a clear view of his brother’s face. Purple eyes met, sparkling in the warm glow of the pavilion. Aegon let out a small moan, brows furrowed as his hips continued their ministrations. His eyes fell onto Aemond’s lips as his brother bit them, biting back a grunt of pleasure. The King’s head ducked down closer to his brother’s face, with the intent of capturing his lips, but the prince turned his head to the side in avoidance. Aegon ignored the slight pang in his chest at Aemond’s rejection, turning his gaze instead to the sight of your cunt taking both their cocks.

The underside of their shafts rubbed together, sending a delicious spark of pleasure that licked at the base of Aemond’s spine with a familiar warmth. Shifting his weight to one elbow, the prince pistoned his hips into you roughly. You were far gone, drooling onto his shoulder as your jaw fell slack, uncontrollable moans and whines coming out of you. 

Without warning, your third release washed over you. Goosebumps rose on your flesh at your most intense climax yet, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. Your core compressed both cocks together even tighter, which caused both men to grunt in your ear. Black spots covered your vision, mind far from earth as they chased their release. Aegon was the first to break, his release overwhelming him, making him double over. The elder gripped onto his brother’s shoulder for stability, accidentally gripping some of his brother’s long tresses as he spurted his seed into you.

When Aegon pulled out, Aemond ground his feet, thrusting up into you as he chased his own end. You had gone limp in his arms, but your core still pulsated around his cock. With your body fully laid on him, your pearl rubbed on the base of his cock. The friction sent you into overdrive, triggering another orgasm that prompted Aemond’s. The prince couldn’t resist the loud groan that left his lips as he spurted another round of his seed into you.

He could feel the top of his head buzz at the aftermath of his climax, laying there for a moment with you still draped on top of him like a blanket. 

After gathering his bearings, Aemond carefully laid you on the cot. A hiss left both of you as he pulled out, the mixture of the brothers’ seed spilling out of you. You laid there on your stomach, eyes closed as your mind floated away. One of them, you weren’t sure who, wiped you clean. You let out a hum as a sign of gratitude, dozing off almost immediately from exhaustion.

Aemond wordlessly dressed while Aegon settled into his cot beside you. He spared your blissed out figure one last look before moving to leave.

“Good night, brother.” Aegon called out to him, prompting Aemond to stop and look back at him. The two silver-haired men locked eyes once more, the strange feeling in Aemond's chest returned as he looked into his brother's round orbs. Pursing his lips, Aemond gave his brother a nod of acknowledgment before turning to leave.

On the morrow, they shall ride together at the head of their army. The memories of this night shall remain unspoken of as they charge forward together in battle, presenting a united front.

#bella writes ✍️ #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegond #targtowers #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd #aemond fic recs #aegon ii fic recs #ewan mitchell #tom glynn carney #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aegmond

[thekinslayed]

Lovely As Can Be

summary | Your path crosses with Osferth's once more, who has blossomed into a different man from the last time you saw him. (based on this request.)

pairing | osferth x maid!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, public sex, grinding, osferth's not a virgin in this one Lord, fluff (lots of it), sharing an orange is a love language

wordcount | 6.5k

song rec | Would That I - Hozier

note | surprise surprise! here's something with our baby monk (who is looking super fine in that gif)! a certain scene was inspired by ophelia (2018), can you spot which one? :D

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

You had been helping the young maids put up the freshly washed linens to dry when you were informed of the arrival of some guests. Wiping your wet hands on your apron, you left the girls to welcome the travelers who were to stay in Mildrith’s inn. Passing by some of the other help scurrying around, you keep an eye on their tasks, giving out instructions when you catch something that would not pass your madam’s standards.

An amused scoff left your lips when you reached the front of the house, a familiar group of warriors awaiting you with enthusiastic grins. Uhtred called out your name, greeting you warmly.

“Ah, King Edward’s dashing knights,” you jested, greeting them all with a smile and a nod.

You were only a girl when you first received the pleasure of meeting Uhtred and his group of warriors. Freshly sixteen, Mildrith had taken you under her wing to work as a maid in her husband’s inn. It was the biggest in town and was frequented by most travelers when traveling south, hence the constant need for help within the establishment. In the first months of your position, you had spent many an hour scrubbing floors, cleaning out bed pans, and pouring mead for guests.

It was a couple of months after your assignment that the arrival of the arguably infamous Uhtred of Bebbanburg sparked much excitement within the town, especially in Mildrith’s inn where they were sure to be staying. You watched, wide-eyed, as the Dane and his group strolled through the establishment, carrying such a commanding presence that everyone had stopped to look at them. Behind the group, you noticed a lanky figure trailing behind them, swathed in holy robes, appearing smaller than the rest despite being the tallest. 

‘A Christian monk travels with Danes, how odd,’ you thought then. 

You remembered his blue eyes, always wide like a frightened doe. It was clear he was barely a warrior, freshly taken under Uhtred’s wing, but you had treated him with no less respect than you did the older men.

He was a boy back then, and now, standing before you, was a man; Osferth was now a seasoned warrior like the rest of them. When his back used to be hunched in insecurity, he now stood tall, chest proud. 

“Look at you, baby monk, looks like you’ve grown some hair on your chest," you commented, hand propping up on your hip. His build now filled out the robes nicely, shapely muscles filling in the loose crevices of the garment. 

“Ah, he’s grown them alright, even more down his–” Finan began, but a slap on his shoulder from the king’s bastard had him cutting his words short, bellowing in laughter.

“Very nice to see you again, my lady,” Osferth greeted sweetly, giving you a slight nod. 

“Sweet as ever,” you cooed, turning to the other men, “unlike some of ya!”

They opened their mouth to protest, but you quickly led them into the inn, ignoring their complaints of faux offense. You led the men to a long table in the dining area, where the afternoon meals were beginning to be served. The group of warriors sat down, weary and starved from their long journey. You called a younger maid to fetch some mead for the guests, before bringing over some bread and stew.

“Looks like Mildrith has you ordering people around now, eh? No more scrubbing floors for you then?” Uhtred mentioned, making you chuckle while pouring the liquor into their cups. 

“She has me watch over the newcomers, especially the clumsy ones, but aye, I earned my right to not be cleaning chamberpots now, my lord,” you responded, placing the jug of mead back onto the table. “Doesn’t mean I don’t get my hands dirty now and then!” 

You took a seat beside Sihtric when he scooted over for you, urging you to sit with them. There was a reprieve from the ache in your heels, joints relaxing in relief after long hours of being on your feet. You asked the men about their journey, listening in awe at all the battles they fought and the lands they traversed since you last saw them.

“And they hung us upside down from a tree! I mean seriously, they could have just tied us to a trunk and be over with it, but no, they had to dangle us like some roasted pigs!” Finan exclaimed, hands waving wildly at his retelling. A laugh bubbled from your chest, mixing with the deeper chuckles echoing from the table. 

Behind you, some stable boys had passed by in search of some mead to cool off after hours in the hot midsummer sun. Spotting a familiar head of dark hair, Uhtred points to Eadric, turning to you.

“Isn’t that…? Call him over, I want to know if he is keeping you happy as a married woman!” He exclaimed in sincerity. Confused, you turned around to who he was pointing at, before pulling down his extended arm before he could call Eadric over.

“Keep it down,” you said in haste, the smile on your face dropping. All four men looked at you in confused concern, looking at you as your gaze dropped to your lap.

“I am not a married woman. Eadric and I, we did not…” you trailed off, shaking your head lightly. 

“What?” Uhtred asked in bewilderment, gaze flickering to your former lover who had walked away to return to the stables. “But you both had been so eager to marry!”

“I know, I know. He, uh, he had a change of heart,” you explained, rubbing the back of your neck. They all looked at you in pity, so you plastered a rueful smile on your face, waving it off.

“Tis no matter, we were young, and we were foolish. I-I’ve moved past it, really,” you reassured them. 

“If you need us to do anything, just say the word,” Uhtred said, earning a nod from the rest of the group.

“Aye, Sihtric is quite skilled at making things look like an accident,” Finan said lowly, making you giggle as the Dane nodded eagerly. Osferth sat silently, watching the light in your eyes dim at the turn of the conversation.

“Thank you, but there is no need,” you said gratefully. With a deep sigh, you rose from the bench and smoothed out your skirts. “Well, I shall go see that your rooms are ready, and if there is anything you need, you know where to find me,” you told them, before leaving them to their meals. You were unaware of a pair of icy blue eyes following your retreating form as you walked away, busying yourself with your tasks once more.

Before dusk had begun to settle into the horizon, Mildrith had sent you off to gather some greens for supper from the market. You had hurried to old Hilda’s shop, filling your large basket with greens for the stew as well as some potatoes and grain. You all but waddled back to the inn, balancing the heavy basket on your hip, willing yourself not to drop anything into the damp earth on your way back.

“My lady!” A familiar voice called out behind you, making you stop in your tracks. You lifted the basket higher on your hip, keeping a firm hand on the wooden carrier to prevent it from sliding down further. Osferth rushed to you, taking the heavy basket from your hands.

“Let me, please.”

“I do not wish to burden a great warrior with a task so little, Osferth,” you tried to reason, but the monk had already lifted the weight with ease. He smiled at you, shaking his head.

“No great warrior would deny a lady his aid when she needs it, he would be less of a man if he did so,” he explained, walking beside you back to the inn. An amused smile lifted on your lips, turning to look at the taller man beside you. Your eyes studied the shadows the setting sun cast upon his face, now more structured and manly than you had last seen him. The plumpness of youth had melted and given way to a sculptured jaw, an aquiline nose, and pursing lips. His bright blue eyes once shone with exuberant wonder and apprehension now reflected a more mature wisdom. He carried himself with an air of confidence you had never seen in him before, one that belonged to a man who was sure of himself. 

Catching your gaze on him, Osferth turned to you, raising his eyebrows in question. Your cheeks flushed at being caught in the act, your lips lifting into a shy smile.

“You seem so different now than when we last saw each other,” you said. The monk’s eyes caught the way you slightly bit your lip, watching how the plump flesh reddened at the contact.

“Different in what way, my lady?” Osferth asked.

“You seem stronger. More confident,” you told him, trying to pick the right words to describe the change you have seen in him. “Like there is a fire burning within you.”

A smile touched Osferth’s lips as he glanced at you, the corners of his lips curling upwards. Your eyes meet his icy blues, his dirty blonde tresses appearing much darker in the dimming sunlight. A hum left the monk’s lips, keeping his eyes on yours for a moment longer before returning to the road.

“I suppose I have,” he agreed. Osferth’s longer legs made for bigger strides, and the taller man shortened his steps when he noticed how fast you had to walk to keep up with him. He turned his head to look at you once more, “though I suppose I could say the same thing about you, my lady.”

His gaze roamed over your features, taking in your flushed cheeks, the rosy pink of your lips. Surprise sparked in your orbs, making him chuckle when you turned to him.

​​"You have grown more beautiful," his tone was matter-of-fact, like he was stating a simple truth. The words made your heart flutter, the breath catching in your throat for a moment. You had never been one to be bestowed such compliments, thus making the smallest of praises leaving you flustered. Osferth's eyes twinkled as he continued to stare at you, enjoying the way he seemed to make you flustered in his presence. "You have a certain glow about you, my lady. Like the warm touch of the sun on a summer's day.”

“My, it seems you have become a warrior and a poet,” you jested, earning a chuckle from the man beside you. 

As you neared the inn, young Ida had passed by the pair of you, carrying dried linens. You did not miss the way her eyes caught Osferth’s, the man beside you smiling at her. The young maid immediately blushed, ducking her head as she walked by. His gaze followed her passing form, craning his head back as she passed. You ignored the strange feeling in your chest at the sight, returning your eyes to the muddy road.

“I am certain Uhtred and the others had you meeting all kinds of girls around the land, seeing as you are now quite the charmer,” you teased Osferth, bumping your elbow into his. The young monk made a grunt of amusement, turning back to you. It had gone unnoticed by you when he had begun to walk much closer by your side, the back of his hand brushing against the back of yours with the sway of your arms.

“You think I am charming?” He arched a brow at you, a playful tone coloring his voice. You rolled your eyes as he spun your own words back at you, chuckling as the bastard nudged your elbow in return. 

“Oh dear, I fear all that time on the road has taught you all the wrong things,” you said, letting out a comical sigh that made Osferth laugh. As both of you reached the inn, you gestured for the warrior monk to hand you the basket, but he refused, telling you he shall take it to the kitchens for you, ever the chivalrous gentleman. You led him through to the bustling kitchens, busy in preparation for supper, where he had dropped the basket. Many words of thanks left your lips at his gracious assistance in hauling the heavy load of produce around for you.

“It is no trouble, my lady,” Osferth waved off. Looking around the area, you subtly reached into the basket, pulling out an orange to give to the taller man. You had secretly bought it for yourself, splurging on a treat you had not seen in ages. You handed it to Osferth, who looked equally in surprise.

“Where did you get this?” He asked, eyes wide at the side of the bright fruit. He took it into his larger hand, lifting it to his nose to smell the sweet scent of its zest, his lips letting out a delighted sigh. 

“This was the last one Hilda had, and I just couldn’t help myself,” you said sheepishly. “You can have it, Osferth, for helping me with this.”

“Oh no, I cannot, my lady! ‘Tis yours!” Osferth exclaimed, handing the round fruit back into your hands. You shook your head, pressing it back into his grasp.

“No, please! It is no matter, I am sure she shall have some again. ‘Tis summer after all, and the season brings much fruit into our harvest,” you explained, earning a sigh from the young warrior. You gave him a small smile, placing your hand atop his larger one. “I doubt you can find these on the road anywhere else.”

“Thank you, my lady, you are most gracious,” Osferth expressed, giving you a sincere smile. You stared up at his blue orbs, the corner of your lips lifting into a smile of your own. A strange warmth spread across your chest, making you feel coquettish and timid as the blonde towered over you. The tips of your shoes were a hair inch away from the tips of his boots, his warmth engulfing your entire being. At this distance, you had a direct view of the cleft of his nose, and the way his pupils changed in diameter as he gazed at you.

You were broken away from your trance by the sharp voice of Mildrith, calling you over. Your feet took a small step away from Osferth, clearing your throat. The young warrior sniffled, looking at his shoes and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I should go, Osferth,” you said, giving him an apologetic look. He nodded in understanding giving you a small smile.

“Of course, I shall see you at supper, then?” He asked, to which you nodded. You watched as the young monk walked out of the kitchen, pocketing the orange you had given him. You couldn’t help the way your lips lifted higher, a girlish chuckle leaving your lips when he gave you one last look before disappearing down the hall, shooting you a roguish smirk. 

“Oi! What are ya gigglin’ over there for? Get a move on, missy!” Mildrith scolded, making you jump. You squeaked out a small apology, bowing your head when you passed by her to get on with your work, unaware of the way the mistress of the house shook her head at you in amusement, a small smile breaking out on her own lips.

One thing that attracted the numerous guests to the inn was the suppers. They were always boisterous, rowdy, and filled with music and chatter. Even the townspeople spend their nights at the inn, making the establishment somewhat akin to an alehouse with the drinks that flowed and the laughs that echoed through the room. Tonight was no different, the common hall was packed with guests and local folks alike, and chatter bustled through the air as you maneuvered around the room, refilling cups of ale with the jug in your hand. You greeted your regulars, ignored the advances of some that already had one too many cups of liquor, and kept your eye out on anything else your guests might need. You checked on the younger maids walking around, guiding the ones who were a bit unsure of what to do. When you had first started at the inn, working the suppers intimated you, with your timid nature and clumsy hands. The overlapping noises left you rattled, coupled with the growing rowdiness as the night went on. As you gained more experience and became one of Mildrith’s most trustworthy workers, you took it upon yourself to look out for the newcomers, treating them kindly instead of punishing them for every slip-up they made.

You had quickly exchanged your empty jug for a fresh one at the kitchens before walking back into the hall once more. You heard a voice call you over, turning to Finan who was waving you to their table. As you approached, you spotted the women sitting beside each one of them. You recognized them from the brothel a few doors over, a frequent presence during nights like these in your establishment. It was no surprise that Uhtred and his men had found their companions for the night so quickly, their reputations certainly bearing no lie about their proclivities. Your eyes flickered to where Osferth sat with his arm around a young brunette’s shoulders. You caught the way her fingers toyed with the cross pendant around his neck, leaning into the long expanse of his neck. The corners of your lips dipped slightly at the sight, a strange twinge in your belly. You caught yourself before anyone could notice, plastering a wide smile on your face.

“Enjoying the night, boys?” you asked the table, refilling their cups.

“Aye, good to not be shitting in the woods for once!” Sihtric exclaimed, earning laughs and cheers from his companions. Osferth sat silently, observing the way you rounded their table. He tried to catch your eye, but you seemed to be focused on the jug you held in your hand as you poured ale.

“Why don’t you come sit with us for a while? You are working too hard!” Uhtred urged, to which you only gave a smile.

“Tempting, my lord, but my madam would not be too happy. It is quite a busy night after all,” you said, earning disappointed groans from Finan and Sihtric. You shook your head at their antics, before excusing yourself. For a brief moment, your eyes meet Osferth’s, who had been staring at you the whole time. You gave him a small smile and a nod, before walking away, letting out a sigh as the corner of your lips dropped.

You stood by a pillar, leaning on your weight on the wood while watching the crowd. A man had stood on top of one of the tables, strumming his lute while the guests sang along. In the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar figure approaching the other side of the column, mirroring your position.

“Alright?” He asked, shooting you a concerned look. Another sigh left your lips, keeping your eyes on the lute player, feeling his gaze on the side of your cheek.

“M’fine, Eadric,” you said with indifference. Neither of you spoke for a moment, letting the echoes of the singing crowd fill the space between you.

“Mm, I know you. I can still read you well, you know, despite how we stand now,” he expressed, a somber tinge in his tone. A scoff left your lips, shaking your head at him slightly.

“Well, considering you can hardly read a few words on a scroll of parchment, I think it best if you stop fretting about me.”

“I will have you know I am capable of discerning whole sentences now, by year’s end perhaps I will be able to read you a sonnet to win your heart once more!” A laugh left your lips at his words, bubbling out before you could swallow them down. Your former lover looked satisfied with successfully getting a reaction out of you, smiling as your cheekbones lifted. 

From his place at their table, a young warrior monk watched you and your former husband-to-be. The brunette beside him had been whispering nonsense into his ear, yet he paid her no mind, keeping his attention on you and the way you turned to Eadric, leaning to say something into his ear over the crowd’s noise. 

As the night grew darker and the jugs of ale turned empty, you stayed on your feet, cleaning up in the kitchens away from the ruckus, alone. No Eadric, no Osferth, no grimy hand of a drunkard to grab you close. This was your favorite part of the night, to be granted a moment’s reprieve from the chaotic bustle of your days. It was peaceful to have a moment alone with your thoughts like a soft howl of wind on a dark night. Your hands worked mindlessly to scrub the dirty dishware while you let your mind run loose. There was little room for one’s thoughts in a position like yours. The days would often feel autonomic— clean off the linens in the morning, be in the kitchens by noon, and pour ale for the guests in the evening. The surprise of welcoming old friends like Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric was a pleasant deviation from your otherwise monotonous life.

And dear Osferth. You supposed you had always been quite partial to him among the rest, you were close in age and personality, or at least you were. Where you were timid, Osferth was equally as shy, yet now, he had blossomed into something greater, forging his name into history, all the while you had remained a closed bud still rooted to the soil you had been planted in. As much as you missed the clumsy, doe-eyed baby monk, the warrior sat in your madam’s hall had as much power to render you weak as he did to wield a sword. To be under his gaze had you blushing like a young maiden, and he a dashing knight.

You shook your head, snapping out of your reverie. Osferth had seen many things and met countless faces, surely you did not hold a light to the girls that had come his way. It was no use to be feeling this way, not when he was to leave by the moon’s turn, not when you shall be left alone once more.

Dawn had barely broken through the horizon when you had risen from your cot, stretching your aching limbs with a groan. You had slept for barely three hours, but your body had grown accustomed to your early mornings, often rousing from your slumber with the sun’s rise. The air held a slight prickle of humidity during the summer, giving you no need for furs and a fire during the night. The rest of the inn laid fast asleep, and with the few more moments left to your own, you gathered a clean set of clothes, taking silent steps across the creaking floorboards to step out. The smell of the earth was refreshing, coupled with the morning dew that sprinkled the green grass. It was quiet, save for the howls of mourning doves that echoed through the trees. Humming an old tune to yourself, you made your way to the lake past the thick of the woods, placing your clean clothes on the ground before shrugging off your dress. Clad in only your thin cotton shift, your bare feet padded on the soft soil to approach the lake’s edge. You dipped a toe in, testing its temperature, before stepping down the shallow surface. The water held a slight bite of cold, just how you liked it. You took careful steps across the soft earth, the water rising higher up to your waist. You bent your knees to fully submerge yourself into the cool water, staying underwater for a moment, before breaking the surface to catch your breath. The water felt wonderful on your skin, even more so as it soaked your hair clean of yesterday’s muck. You bathed peacefully in the lake, scrubbing on your scalp and swimming across the water. You allowed yourself to settle, granting yourself a moment of calm before another busy day. Your eyes closed as you let yourself float on the water’s surface, humming to yourself once more.

The quiet peace of your morning was disrupted when you heard the first sounds of approaching footsteps. Alerted, you returned to your feet, looking around for the source. You had no place to hide, not when you were right in the middle of the forest’s clearing. You spotted a large rock situated against the lake’s edge, covered by tall, wispy grass, prompting you to quickly swim towards the stone and lean against it in hopes of hiding your bareness. Through the grass, you spotted a pair of boots approaching where your clothes had been placed, giving away your presence.

“My, a magnificent fish has come to shore!” A familiar voice called out, echoing through the air. Warily, you poked your head out to catch a glimpse of the intruder, only to find the warrior monk. You felt a relief to be discovered by Osferth rather than a stranger, your lips lifting into a small smile as you regarded him.

“Are you here to fish my lord?” you played along, feigning innocent curiosity. You crossed your arms over your shoulders to cover your chest as you stepped away from the rock, revealing yourself to the royal bastard. It seemed he had awakened not too long ago either, evident from his blonde tresses that were slightly ruffled. His feet took steps closer to the lake’s edge, while his hands crossed behind his back. He flashed you a lopsided grin at your query, shaking his head lightly.

“No, no. Though I am a warrior and have traversed these lands and back, I have no skill for the waters. Perhaps the fish will allow me to admire its beautiful scales instead?” he asked, blue eyes raking over your wet form. You bit your lip as he stared at you, cheeks warming despite the cool air. Stiff buds poked against the wet fabric of your shift, still covered by your arms. 

“There are far more handsome fish around here, perhaps you may find some better use of your time with them,” you suggested, making the warrior monk’s thin lips twisted at your words.

“I would rather not, I find this one particularly breathtaking,” he said, looking at you with a gaze that made your skin tingle. Your mind raced with uncertainty, while your skin burned with desire. To be graced with Osferth's magnetic presence had ignited a deep pulsating ache within you, one not easily stoked by any man. Under the morning sun, you gazed upon his face. He was handsome, very much so. The royal blood in his veins graced him with a beauty higher than that of any common man, but all his rugged edges were all thanks to his time as a warrior walking with Danes. You desired him, and now, he stood before you, all yours for the taking.

You looked around, making sure there was no one else in your surroundings, before uncrossing your arms and standing tall, baring your chest to his eye, pathetically covered by the now translucent fabric of your wet shift. 

“These waters can get quite lonesome for a fish like I. Perhaps my lord would like to join me?”

You visibly gulped as Osferth shamelessly stared at your breasts, waiting with bated breath for his next move. Keeping his eyes on yours, the warrior monk disrobed. He had been without his cuirass, only his robes and breeches. Piece by piece, Osferth’s pale flesh became exposed to your watchful eye. He had placed his robes neatly beside yours, before removing his boots and unlacing his breeches. A small gasp left your lips when he pulled his trousers off, standing tall with his gradually hardening cock on display. An amused huff left the monk’s lips at the way your eyes were stuck on his length, chest puffing proudly under your gaze. He was well-endowed, this he knew, it was what garnered attention from all those women after all. His long, muscled legs approached the edge, cock swaying with every step forward. A warmth in your belly grew as the young warrior dipped into the water, prickling your skin as his eyes stayed on yours the whole time. Your chin tilted upwards as he towered before you, the difference in your heights making you feel covered in his shadow, protected.

“I trust you had a pleasant evening?” you asked, voice dropping low with the change in proximity. Osferth hummed, giving you a small nod.

“Yes, though I admit, it would have been much better if it had been spent with your presence beside me,” Osferth said. His warm breath fanned across your face, the heat of his flesh radiating against yours, causing a shiver to run up your spine. His orbs flickered across your features for a moment, his hand hovering above your arm, yet not touching you. The corners of your lips shifted into a downward smile at his words.

“My apologies, my duties prevented me from doing so. Though it seemed the seat by your side had been occupied. Either way, you had splendid company, only the best in town for the King’s warriors,” you replied softly. He shook his head slightly at you, sniffling lightly.

“It was not her company I sought.”  

His large hand covered the width of your arm, pulling you closer into his space. Your hands placed themselves on his chest upon instinct, while his slithered around your waist. His aquiline nose dipped into the skin of your cheek, breathing in the scent of your flesh. Your eyes fluttered close upon the contact, your heart thumping at the feeling of a growing stiffness poking against your thigh.

“How did you know where to find me?” you whispered in his ear.

“I had stepped out for air after my morning prayers. It was then I caught a glimpse of you, walking into the woods,” he explained, lifting his head to look at you. Your fingers trailed against the edge of his jaw, feeling the small prickling of his lightly growing stubble beneath your fingertips. 

“You followed me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him. A sheepish smile formed on his thin lips, while yours lifted in amusement.

“Tis not safe for a lady to be alone in these woods,” he reasoned, tone light and almost playful. He furrowed his eyebrows in mock concern, shaking his head lightly. A chuckle left your lips, reverberating against Osferth’s chest.

“I know these woods better than you, Osferth,” you replied, to which he only shrugged. “Did the Lord speak to you in your prayers, leading you to me?”

“Aye,” he nodded. His hands squeezed the softness of your arms, before drifting down to settle on your waist. “He all but called me a fool, for letting a beautiful lady walk away from my midst without showing my affections.”

“I am no lady.”

“You can be my lady if you will it so,” he said. Osferth’s calloused hands cupped the sides of your face, keeping your eyes on him.

"You have met the most beautiful ladies in the land, and you will meet more. I am but a simple maid, why me?" you questioned, voice dropping to a whisper. A wistful sigh left his chest, thumbs caressing the plump flesh of your cheek.

"A flower may bloom in the most ordinary of gardens," he whispered softly, his voice carrying the weight of genuine fondness. "And yet, it is that very simplicity that makes its beauty all the more extraordinary."

His head dipped close to yours, your lips just a hair's breadth apart from his. "You have always enraptured me, from the moment I had first stepped into your midst," he confessed.

“Do you jest?” You asked, searching for any sign of any sign of insincerity; you found none.

“I do not jest about matters of the heart,” he whispered, leaning his face closer to yours. You couldn’t help the way your eyes fluttered shut when his nose nudged against yours. His lips pressed a kiss against one cheek, then the other, almost in reverence. Your hands on his chest slithered up to wrap around his neck, pressing yourself further into his build. Your foreheads pressed together, basking in its each other’s warmth for a moment before Osferth leaned forward to capture your lips in his. A gasp left you in surprise, though you had quickly softened into his arms. You had let him lead you in pace, clearly having less experience than the well-traveled monk. The only other man you had kissed was Eadric, and even then you were young and had no knowledge of the ways of the flesh. This was different; Osferth kissed you the way a man kissed a woman, a lover, a wife. It was all-consuming, a kiss that bordered on gnawing, coupled with his wandering hands that caressed and squeezed your curves. They were rough despite the fabric of your shift separating his touch from your bare flesh, and as they cupped the sides of your thighs, he silently urged you to wrap your legs around his waist.

You obliged, letting him carry your weight with his hands supporting your rear. His stiff length is pressed between your bodies, its veiny underside pushing against the dip in your folds. A whimper permeated the air between you when he guided your hips to rub against his shaft, one echoed by a grunt from the warrior monk. It was an odd feeling, though deliciously pleasant. It was different from when your fingers would circle your pearl as you lay in your cot, biting back your sounds of pleasure lest someone heard through the thin walls. Your hips began to move with Osferth’s rhythm, grinding your pearl against his cock. 

“Osferth…” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his once more. The man had started to pant against your lips, small grunts leaving his lips.

“My lady,” he moaned out, before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss was frantic and desperate, with tongues dancing against each other and teeth clashing. You moaned against Osferth’s lips when his cockhead snagged against your folds, rubbing deliciously against your pearl. The prickling heat in your belly began to grow, but you needed more.

“Please, Osferth,” you pleaded against his lips, before letting out a whine.

“What is it, my lady? Say what you need, and it is yours. I am all yours,” he responded. His eyes met yours, which had turned clouded with a heady tinge. There was a wrinkle in between your eyebrows as they furrowed in desperation.

“Take me, all of me,” you said. Your hand reached behind you, taking hold of his cock to guide it to your slit. With another deep kiss from Osferth, he breached your entrance, sliding you down his length. Your moan echoed through the breeze at the stretch, prompting you to bury your head in his neck. You bit hard into the junction of his shoulder from the slight sting; the lack of intimacy with another man leaving your walls unaccustomed to such a stretch. Osferth’s chest vibrated against yours as a deep moan left his lips when he bottomed out, stilling for a moment. 

When the pain in your walls began to subside, your hips slowly began to move. Large, calloused hands remained on your rear, guiding you up and down his prick. There was a slight ripple in the water from your movements, growing into small splashes when your hips increased their pace. 

You tugged the collar of your shift down, exposing your breasts to the morning air. Osferth leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking on the stiff bud while a hand massaged the other. Breathy moans of pleasure freely fell from your open lips, singing a tune so sweet to the monk’s ears. Your fingers gripped the hairs on the back of Osferth’s neck, your hips never losing their rhythm. His lips switched to suck on the other breast, leaving soft marks on the supple flesh, marking you as his. 

“Do you like this, my lady?” Osferth asked against your skin, before trailing his kisses upward to suck on your neck. 

“Yes, oh yes!” you whined. The thought that someone shall hear your moans and discover the pair of you was forgotten with the way your mind grew dazed in Osferth’s embrace. Your nipples rubbed against his taut chest, the fine sprinkle of hair on the milky flesh ticking your sensitive nubs. 

“You are the most divine,” the young monk moaned, squeezing your rear. Your lower lip is caught between your teeth tightly, almost breaking flesh as you neared your precipice. The sensation of your pearl rubbing against Osferth’s pubic bone threatened to send you into overdrive, shooting sparks of pleasure up your spine. The warmth in your core bloomed upwards, starting to spread to your chest. Your walls began to squeeze his cock, signifying the start of your release.

“Osferth, ah, I am going to–”

“Go ahead, my beauty, let it go for me,” he coaxed you. Your release washed over you like a dam breaking through its walls. A whine left your lips as your eyes shut, your features scrunching together in bliss. Osferth’s eyes stayed on your face, watching you get lost deep in your delight. He continued to bounce you onto his cock through your release, before pulling out to quickly tug at his cock under the water’s surface. With the sight of your panting chest right before his eyes, Osferth’s cock released spurts of his seed. The clear water was painted with the cloudy fluid, diffusing into the lake. 

Recovering from the euphoric daze that had overtaken you, your eye stared into Osferth’s icy blues. You bit your lip to suppress the gigantic smile that had lifted your cheekbones, a giggle bubbling out from your chest. Your lover merely raised his eyebrows, a smile breaking out on his sculptured features.

“What amuses you, my sweet?” Osferth asked softly. You merely shook your head, before leaning your head against his shoulder in an embrace.

“Nothing, I am merely overjoyed,” you replied. A radiant glow fluttered in Osferth’s ribcage, his lips pressing a kiss against your hair.

After rising from the water and redressing, you and Osferth sat on the grass in silence. Your head was leaned against his, while his arm wrapped around your figure, rubbing your back in comfort. You wished for this moment to last for eternity, that you would not be called to your duties, and him to his own. Alas, such power was out of your hands, thus you willed yourself to savor the warmth of his embrace as much as you could. 

You felt him reach into his pocket, turning to look at him in surprise when the orange appeared in your sights. The same one you had given him in the kitchens.

“Why have you not eaten it?” you asked. You could smell the citrussy zest of the fruit in his palm, sweet and inviting.

“I was hoping to share it with you,” he said, making you blush. He began to peel the orange, its scent spraying all over. His grip had been too tight, lacking gentleness with the fragile pulp that ended up crushed under his fingertips. You laughed at the juices that spilled on his hands, before gesturing for him to hand the fruit over.

“You are making a mess! Here, let me,” you offered. The smiling warrior handed the orange to you, watching your gentle fingers peel the fruit expertly. Once the rind had been removed, you had handed it back to Osferth, but he had split the fruit in half, giving you the bigger portion. You let out a delighted hum as the sweetness coated your tongue, savoring the taste you only come by so rarely. Osferth watched you with bright eyes while eating his own. 

In the quiet still of the morning, moments before you were to be called back into the inn, you sat with your lover upon the grass. You shared an orange, along with soft kisses and words of tenderness. You knew naught what the end of the moon shall bring you, nor the end of the day, but you had this moment, one you shall always think of fondly.

#bella writes ✍️ #this is queued #osferth x reader #osferth tlk #osferth x you #osferth x y/n #osferth x oc #osferth #the last kingdom #ewan mitchell

[thekinslayed]

This Heaven Gives Me Migraine

summary | The revelation of your betrothed's involvement with your half-sister sends you straight into Criston's arms. Harwin is shown what he has been missing out on.

pairing | criston cole x legitimized bastard!reader x harwin strong

tags | 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, oral sex (f), oral sex (m), cuckolding, threesome, Harwin's monster cock, daddy issues if u squint, reader is loosely based on shiera seastar

wordcount | 4.6k

note | lmao this gif is the only one i've found of them in the same frame 😭 don't ask how old anyone is, idk either <3

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

song rec | Natural's Not In It - Gang of Four

(dividers by @zaldritzosrose)

When Lyonel Strong offered his son Harwin to the Princess Rhaenyra, King Viserys merely laughed in his face, stating his son was not good enough for his heir. He was, however, good enough for you, the king’s legitimised bastard. The King sired you with a Lyseni woman, whom he was introduced to by his brother Daemon and his then-lover Mysaria. That night was merely a lapse in his judgement, he had let his cock hold authority over his head. The King was determined to erase any evidence of his wrongdoings by having you sent to the Sept, but then, your mother had died, and the young queen Aemma could not find it in her heart to send a babe like you away. You were taken in a year before Rhaenyra was conceived, having served as the Queen’s temporary comfort when she struggled to produce an heir. It was the will of the good queen to have you legitimised, though despite being formally named a Targaryen, you felt like an outsider in your own family. 

You had all your father’s Valyrian features, but only half the love he bore for your half-sister Rhaenyra. In some ways, you understood. You were the walking reminder of Viserys’ mistakes, and the King was adept at pretending you were invisible. The thought did little to quell the hurt in your chest as you longed for an ounce of attention Viserys bestowed on Rhaenyra.

However, you made this work in your favor. With the order of succession having skipped you, all the attention was on your younger sister. This allowed you more freedom, you took on numerous lovers, dabbled in creating potions and elixirs, and flew across the realm on your dragon as much as you wished. You grew more distant from Rhaenyra as you enjoyed the joys that came with your autonomy, while she held the pressure of being the King’s heir.

Despite the pleasures you had freely taken for yourself, you were still a princess with duties to uphold. And so, your hand was offered to Ser Harwin, as a gesture of good faith with the Strongs.

You liked Harwin. Good, honourable Harwin. He was courteous, a man of good breeding. He would clutch your hand at his elbow when you walked through the gardens, listening to every single detail you shared. His sweet words often rendered you blushing like a maiden, tugging on your heartstrings in a way no man ever had. You would often find him awaiting you in the Dragonpit when you returned from your flights, a kiss planted upon the back of your hand when you approached him. With some convincing, you would succeed in persuading Harwin back to your chambers some nights, where you sat upon his lap, grinding on his thigh while he claimed your lips. Nothing more, of course. 

“We cannot, princess. Not yet.” He would whisper, stopping you from taking things any further, much to your frustration. You were dying of curiosity to learn what he was like in bed. Surely, the name Breakbones didn’t only apply to his physical prowess on the battlefield. On the nights he would be away with the City Watch, a fresh vase of flowers would always be sent from him, awaiting you on your nightstand. 

And when Harwin was away, you would find yourself in Criston’s arms.

Your trysts with the Kingsguard started not long after Rhaenyra sent him away from her midst with a broken heart. He was but a dog with his tail stuck in between his legs when you had set your eyes on him. At first, you were apprehensive about taking what you thought were your half-sister’s scraps, but it did not take long for you to realize you had struck gold. Criston fucked, hard. He would take you with an air of desperation in his thrusts, as though you would disappear once he failed to satisfy you. The knight was eager to please, taking you any way you liked, however many times you wanted to. The maester was surely suspicious about how frequently you requested for moon tea on the mornings following your nights with Criston, but you made sure to remind him of your knowledge of the whores he would sneak into the Keep for his own debauchery, something your father would surely not appreciate. 

You should be thankful for Rhaenyra, really. If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be lost in the dizzying haze of your nights with Criston, free to claim him as you wish, while she carried her and Laenor’s first. Hells, even Alicent didn’t mind you whisking away her sworn shield the second he was relieved of his duties. While no plans about your marriage to Harwin were set yet, you enjoyed your last bits of freedom with your lover, while imagining the moment you would finally be claimed by the Strong knight in your marriage bed.

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the babe that lay in the cot. Beside you, your father cooed, tickling the boy’s nose with his fingertip. Pale skin, brown hair. How in the Seven Hells did this happen? Your eyes met that of Alicent’s, who held the same glint of confusion in her big, round eyes. 

You flashed Rhaenyra and Laenor a fake smile as the King showered them with praises for producing an heir. Words of good wishes fell from your lips, to which the couple responded with their gratitude. The babe stirred from the voices surrounding him, opening his eyes to reveal a vivid blue. 

No.

It couldn’t be.

You’ve heard of the whispers circulating in court about your sister and your betrothed, though you had paid them no mind. The lords and ladies often had little to do to entertain their boring lives which often resulted in forming insipid rumours about the royal family. Once, they had speculated you bathed in blood to preserve your beauty, which you only scoffed at in response. You had only turned five and twenty! 

But this… this was hard to deny.

You left your half-sister’s chambers with the Queen, speaking in hushed whispers as you both walked through the halls while Ser Criston trailed behind you. “I cannot believe this! Do you think…” Alicent trailed, careful with her words as she looked at your troubled expression. 

“My sister, s-she… She would never bring such shame upon my name. Wouldn’t she?” You asked, turning to both Alicent and Criston. Your shoulders sagged when they said nothing but only exchanged doubtful looks. A pit formed in your stomach at the realization.

“It is too soon to say, dear girl. Do not fret, the truth will reveal itself soon, yes?” Alicent reassured you, rubbing your shoulders comfortingly. 

The truth did, in fact, reveal itself during the feast celebrating the birth of Rhaenyra’s heir. Jacaerys Velaryon, future King of the Seven Kingdoms. You were sat beside young Aegon, who looked unamused by the whole affair. You felt him tug at your sleeve, making you lean down. “Why does he have brown hair?” He asked.

“I am not quite sure, my sweet, but don’t you think he has his father’s eyes?” You said, smiling at him sweetly. When he merely shrugged his shoulders, you caressed his silver head of hair, before directing your gaze to the crowd, unconvinced by your own words.

While the lords and ladies cheered for the introduction of the babe to the court, you watched your betrothed. His eyes lit up with joy, shimmering blues under the light of the Great Hall, though they were not looking at you. His gaze was directed at your sister who sat beside your father. 

Your chest panged with hurt, your jaw ticked in anger at this shameless display. You turned your head to meet Rhaenyra’s gaze, which met yours for a second, before looking away to avoid your sharp stare. A scoff left your lips, rising from your seat to leave the Great Hall. The sound of your shoes shuffling against stone echoed through the empty halls as you returned to your chambers, slamming the door behind you. 

A cup of wine was poured in haste, and your shaky hands brought it to your lips, chugging its contents down. You slammed the cup back down onto the table, before pouring yourself another. Some herbs were crushed and added to the cup of red, with the hopes of soothing your aggravated state. Behind you, you heard the sound of your door opening, followed by quiet footsteps and the clinking of metal.

“Princess,” You heard him say. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, not facing the man who stood by your door. “I came to make sure you were alright,” He responded softly. Your head dropped as you sighed, your ringed fingers clutched the end of the serving table, weight leaning on the wood.

“How could they do this to me? My own sister, my future husband?” You trembled with anger. A gloved hand clutched your elbow, prompting you to turn around to meet the Dornishman’s gaze.

Criston looked at you with worry while you shook your head, an incredulous laugh leaving your lips. “Gods, what a fool I am.” 

“Don’t say that.” He interjected, frowning at your words.

“But I am,” You asserted, stepping away from him to walk towards the chaise with the cup of wine in your grip. “Fucking Harwin. I let him convince me what an honourable man he is, what a fine husband he would make.” You grumbled before you took a big swig from your cup. Criston silently listened, standing with his hands clutched together at his back. “I could care less if he took another to bed, the gods know I am not innocent of that either,” You pointed out, to which your lover gave you a look.

“But my own sister,” You fumed, tone heavy with incredulity. “What will the court say of this? Of me?”

A silence passed through the room, the only sound being the crackling of the hearth. After a moment, Criston took a step towards you, tugging off his gloves.

“Do you love him?” He asked, making you turn towards him. You pondered on his words. Though you bore good feelings for the Gold Cloak, it was too soon to call it love, and after this debacle, you could hardly consider him worthy of your affection. 

“No,” You answered with conviction, your gaze upon Criston unwavering. “Not with the utter humiliation the birth of this bastard shall bring me.”

The hard metal of his armor is cool against the skin of your back as your knight pressed his front against your clothed behind. He dipped his head to kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder, nuzzling his face into the base of your neck. The stubble on his face tickled, his familiar scent wafting into your senses as you leaned your head against his.

“He is not worthy of you, none of them are,” Criston rasped. His hands slithered to embrace your waist, a sigh leaving your lips when you finally relaxed into his arms. “Harwin is an imbecile, blind to his fortune of having the most beautiful woman in the realm promised to him.”

A breathless chuckle left your lips at his words. You turned in his arms to face the knight, cupping his stubbled jaw to stare into his eyes. 

“You are so good to me,” You tell him, nudging your nose against his. Criston’s heart thumped against his chest, and for a moment he worried you would hear it knock against the metal of his chestplate. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours.

Oh, the things he would do to make you all his.

Criston hated sharing, especially with that dolt Strong. If he could, he would take you away from all of this madness, and fulfill the promise of a life of freedom and love. But he cannot let himself hope, not again.

“I would do anything for you, my princess,” Criston whispered lowly, a kiss planted to the skin of your wrist to seal his vow. 

“Anything?”

“Yes, yes. Anything, ask and it shall be done,” He affirmed, looking at you with sincerity in his eyes. Your heart warmed at his words, his unwavering loyalty to you something you feel completely undeserving of. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t spent many nights imagining what life would be like with Criston as your husband. Rhaenyra had told you of his promise of taking her away to Essos, for a simple life forged with love. Your sister thought the prospect entirely ridiculous. But you, you could do it. There was little keeping you here, no father who gave you love, no duty to tie you down, no throne to bleed you dry. But you cannot, not yet at least. The moment shall present itself in the future, this you knew in your heart. And when it does, you shall ask Criston to go with you and you shall never look back. For now, you settled with planting a kiss on his lips. 

“I do not ask for much, just you,” You said against his lips. He cupped your chin to pull you back against his lips, deepening the kiss as his tongue pried your mouth open. “You have me,” He breathed out.

Kissing turned into gnawing as Criston all but devoured your mouth. You fumbled to undo the knots holding up his breastplate. One by one, you both worked to remove his armor, the metal plates falling on the fur carpet with a soft thud. Now clad in only his gambeson and breeches, your lover pulls you to his chest, relishing in the giggle that left you as you found your way to your bed. 

He sat on your bed, turning you around to quickly undo the laces of your gown. Once the dress fell and you were clad only in your shift, Criston pulled you into his lap, your thigh caging one of his, arms snaked around his neck. You ran a hand through his recently shortened locks, biting your lip as he regarded you with a lovestruck look.

“I told you it would look better shorter,” You commented, earning a rare smile from the usually reserved knight. Your lips captured his once more, tongues twisting against each other. His large hand cupped your breast, earning him a moan. The neckline of your shift is pushed down to reveal your chest, your nipples pert against Criston’s breath as he nuzzled his face into the plump flesh. Another moan escaped you when he took one of your tits into his mouth. A gush of arousal dripped from your core as your lover played and toyed with your mounds of flesh, your hips ground against his thigh mindlessly. Throwing your head back in delight, you blindly reached down to find the lace of his breeches, haphazardly untying them to dip your hand to stroke his cock. He groaned against your breast as you started to touch him, dragging your hand up and down his hardened length. Your hips continued to ground against his muscular thigh, smearing your essence on the fabric of his trousers. Your jaw fell open as he lifted his thigh higher, directing you to the edge of his knee. A whimper left you when your pearl rubbed deliciously against his kneecap, grounding your hips harder into his leg as the coil in your core threatened to snap. A chorus of grunts and whines echoed through the room as you both chased release. Criston’s hips started to thrust into your hand as you stroked him in rhythm with your grinding. The growing heat in your belly indicated how close you were to the precipice, hips growing desperate as you hurled yourself to the end. Before you were thrown over the edge, however, the door to your chambers flew open, and Harwin’s hulking figure entered. 

“What is the meaning of this?” His voice boomed, blue eyes widened after having caught you and Criston in such a precarious position. You hid your surprise at his intrusion, turning to face Harwin but made no move to rise from Criston’s lap.

“What right do you have to barge into my chambers, Ser Harwin?” You reprimanded, looking at your betrothed angrily. Blue eyes raked from your exposed chest down to where your hand disappeared in Criston’s pants. The Gold Cloak gulped, before straightening up to meet your displeased gaze. 

“You disappeared from the feast, princess, I was sent here to fetch you. I heard noises from the hall, I thought you were…” He trailed off, eyes shifting to Cole who had a smug look on his face. Harwin’s fists clenched as the urge to smash the Dornishman’s face threatened to overwhelm him. You scoffed at your betrothed, pulling away from Criston to rise to your feet.

“You need not worry about me, Ser, so please, leave us.” You ordered, earning an incredulous look from the taller man.

“I am not leaving you with him! This is the most improper,” He contended, standing his ground. Your eyebrows raised at his words, a smirk on your lips rose upon hearing him. 

“You are one to lecture me on what is and what isn’t proper. Tell me, don’t you have other pressing matters to attend to? Your newborn son, perhaps?” You questioned. Harwin glared at Criston when he snickered at your words, before turning to you with an apologetic look.

“Princess, you have to understand, I did not intend to–”

“No? What, did your cock just accidentally found its way into my sister’s cunt? Spare me the excuses, Harwin, I have no need for them.” You seethed. Harwin reached out to you, but you stepped away from him before he could hold you. His eyes flickered to where Cole still sat on your bed, then back to you. “I am not leaving.” He repeated, standing his ground.

“Fine, watch then.” You ordered, turning around to walk back to your lover. You resumed your previous position in Criston’s lap, cupping his face in your hands. You stared at each other, communicating silently. The knight’s contempt of your betrothed was something you were aware of, and you did not wish for this to evolve into something messier than it already was. Criston was the one to smash his lips onto yours, taking you by surprise. A low moan left you at the familiar taste of him against your lips. 

Criston ordered you to rise, which you obeyed, pulling your shift off as you did so. The knight turned you around, facing your bare body to your betrothed who still stood by the door. Harwin’s eyes visibly darkened at the sight of you, blue orbs trailing down your naked flesh. Heat stirred deep within you, cheeks warming at the hungry look in his gaze.

“Best make yourself comfortable, Strong,” Criston spoke up, a mischievous glint in his eye. The hands on your waist urged you to sit back down on his lap, spreading your thighs wide to give Harwin a good view. Your betrothed settled on the chaise faced directly to your bed. You caught how he visibly gulped at the sight of your weeping slit. Criston’s fingers lowered to circle your pearl, a gasp emitting from your lips at his touch. 

“Princess,” Harwin started. He fidgeted in his seat, his crotch was starting to strain in his trousers uncomfortably.

“Sit still and be quiet, Harwin,” You commanded, followed by a whine that reverberated from your chest. Criston dipped a finger into your core, groaning when your rear squirmed against his bulge. You started to pant when his middle finger started to fuck you in earnest, eyes fluttering when the pad of his finger rubbed on a particular spot in a way that made your toes clench. Both your hands gripped his muscular bicep when a second finger entered your cunny, filling you in a way your fingers never could.

“This is where your mistake is, Strong. You’ve gone around other women’s beds when you have denied yourself to indulge in what could have been all yours. See how well she takes my fingers?” Criston chided, smirking at the glaring man. His fingers continued to thrust in and out of you, scissoring and rubbing your clit simultaneously with his thumb. Harwin’s fists gripped the armrests of the chaise tightly, almost to the point of breaking. He would have shot up from his seat to drag Cole to the floor if it weren’t for the desperate moan that echoed from you. You paid little attention to whatever was going on between the men, focusing on chasing your release. Your eyes locked on Harwin’s, gaze staying on him as you spilt around Criston’s fingers. Your mouth fell into an ‘o’ while your thighs shook from the weight of your climax. 

As you chased your breath, you pulled away from Criston’s lap to rise on wobbly legs to walk to where Harwin sat. His icy blues were glossy against the blaze of the hearth, jaw slightly agape when you stood in front of him. Your hand cupped his jaw, making him tilt his head upwards.

“Will you be good?” You asked, still breathless. Your betrothed wordlessly nodded, letting you grab his hand to lead him to your bed. Criston stared at you questioningly, opening his mouth to voice his defiance. You give him a look, giving no room for argument. The loyal dog that he is, the knight obediently stood up from your bed to stand off to the side. 

You ordered Harwin to clean you up with his mouth. He obliged all too eagerly, licking and slurping up your essence with a wet smack. Your eyes rolled back to the back of your skull, humming in delight. You gripped his curls, they felt soft in your palms, in contrast to the rough beard rubbed in between your thighs. Your head turned to the side, and your eyes met Criston’s, who still stood frowning like a kicked dog. You reached out an arm to beckon him over. When he was close enough, your fingers reached for the laces of his breeches to pull out his still-hardened cock. You begin to pump his hand, rubbing at his flushed tip with your thumb. Criston threw his head back and groaned, hips canting forward to chase your touch. With Harwin still devouring your cunt diligently, it took little time for your second release to overwhelm you. Your thighs caged his head, and the pace of your hand on Criston’s length faltered. 

When Harwin stood up from his knees, your eyes fell to the bulge straining tightly against his breeches. You allowed him to unlace them, eyes widening at his massive cock. His tip was flushed red, almost purple. The cockhead wept a clear liquid, a sight that made your mouth water. 

Seven Fucking Hells.

Your eyes shifted between both men and an overwhelming wave of desire washed over you, tainting you red from your cheeks down to your chest. Looking back to Harwin, you watched as he slowly stroked his cock, eyes silently asking. 

“You better fuck me like you mean it, Strong,” You said, eyes hungry.

“You won’t wish for another man’s cock after tonight, princess. This I promise you,” He vowed, an air of arrogance now present as his eyes shifted to Cole who scoffed. 

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Ser, not when she aches for mine every night.” The other knight retorted. Your eyes rolled at their display, cunt achingly waiting for either man to stop whining about their cocks and fill you with one of them. 

“Well, so far one princess has already taught mine better than yo-”

“Enough.” You cut them off, huffing. You positioned yourself to your knees, awaiting who would start fucking you first. 

Criston shoved Harwin out of the way, slipping his cock in before the taller man could protest. A whine left your lips at the familiar stretch, a dull pain so delicious. Criston gave you little time to adjust, thrusting into you brutally. He had a point to prove, and you were responding to him beautifully. You fisted the fine sheets, moaning unabashedly from the way your lover abused your cunt. 

You barely registered Harwin standing on the side of your bed, his cock standing tall and proud against his taut abdomen. You lifted yourself to take him in your mouth, sucking in as much as you could. His cockhead hit your uvula with barely half of his length in your mouth, a slight gag squeezing his tip. Your hand stroked whatever length couldn’t fit, pleasuring him in tandem with your mouth. Moans vibrated on his cock, causing Harwin to groan loudly. Behind you, Criston’s pace never faltered. Your body jerked from how hard he was thrusting into you, your walls squeezing him as another wave of release threatened to wash over you. 

You took your mouth off of Harwin’s length when your third climax had you whining like a wanton whore. Your hand slapped on his abdomen to ground yourself, and your nails dug into his pale skin. Your release triggered Criston’s, the Kingsguard letting out a broken moan as he spilt into your walls. 

You barely get a moment’s reprieve to recover when your cunt is filled once more. Harwin grunted as he took his turn with you, your oversensitive walls still pulsing from your last orgasm. You bit your lips hard at the delicious stretch, his cock filling you differently than Criston’s. His thrusts were short and hard, and his tip kissed your cervix in a way that made your eyes squeeze shut. Curses fell from your lips, tears beading at the corner of your eyes. You moaned out his name in a sob, before pressing your forehead into the mattress to quiet your moans. The noise in your chambers could equal that of a brothel, no doubt able to arouse suspicion in whoever would have the misfortune of passing by. You were a babbling mess, the amalgamation of all the ways you had been ravished by both men robbing you of your usual wit and headstrong demeanor. You felt Harwin grab your wrist, pulling it back towards him to lift your body at an angle. His cock hit you even deeper than before, your ridged walls squeezing him so tight it made it difficult for him to move. Another peak was ripped from you, the hardest one yet. You fell forward onto your mattress, completely boneless. Your mind barely registered the warm spurts of Harwin’s seed that painted your back, lost in the dizzy haze of your pleasure.

When morning came, a cup of freshly brewed moon tea and a bright arrangement of flowers greeted you when you awakened. The memories of the night tainted your cheeks red, the delicious throb of your core the only evidence of what had occurred. Harwin felt a weight lifted off his shoulders when you allowed him to accompany you for your morning walk in the gardens, any previous contempt for him discarded, for now. What he did was still unforgivable, but if you were to marry, you wished for no ill will to taint your union. 

As for Criston, your nights with him were unaffected, though he did seem to fuck you even harder than before. He had even gone so far as to give Harwin a cordial nod when they trained.

​​Perhaps he should lay off on Strong for a while, a silent truce, if you will. He had you, and that was what mattered most to him. He held his tongue from spitting out his usual nasty remarks about the heir’s brown-haired firstborn and his stark resemblance to the Gold Cloak. Everything was peaceful, good, even, especially with the new arrangement that benefit all three of you.

That peace, however, did not last long, for a year after Jacaerys’ first nameday, the Princess Rhaenyra gave birth to yet another brown-haired babe, Lucerys.

#bella writes ✍️ #criston cole x reader #criston cole x you #criston cole smut #ser criston cole #criston cole #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x you #harwin strong #harwin breakbones #hotd x reader

[thekinslayed]

Oh, Mother

summary | Aegon sinks deeper into despair as his marriage crumbled, and his downfall caused by his own vices.

pairing | modern aegon targaryen x wife!reader

tags | TW alcoholism, substance abuse, divorce, heavy angst, intoxication, death, toxic relationship, reader is a stark but no features are mentioned

wordcount | 1.9k

note | dabbling into a little angst... this was inspired by kendall roy from succession and the song I Know It's Over by The Smiths. this song reminded me heavily of aegon, and i had seen some posts saying this too, but i've forgotten who :( if you seen these posts pls lmk and i'll link them!

song rec | I Know It's Over by The Smiths

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated! i am open for fic requests <3

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

Sad veiled bride, please be happy, 

Handsome groom, give her room

“I can’t take this anymore!” She yelled, pulling her arm away from Aegon’s grip to grab her bags. He stumbled over the clutter, mind desperately fighting through the haze of his intoxication. 

“N-no, my love, please!” He slurred, blindly reaching for her, but she was nowhere near his reach. The cries of their daughter echoed from the nursery, his wife pushing past him to carry the wailing babe. Aegon’s knees felt like they were held up by loose screws, wobbling as they sent him stumbling to the floor. 

His wife had found him in the nursery, lying in a puddle of his own vomit after he came home drunk out of his mind, again. She had gotten so used to spending these nights alone that she had her daughter sleep beside her on what used to be hers and Aegon’s bed. Never had she been more glad for this decision, because her highly intoxicated husband had also managed to knock down the furniture in their little girl’s room in his drunken stupor. 

Gods know what else he had been drinking, or if it was more than just liquor. When she and Aegon first met, he had labeled himself as ‘broken goods’, yet despite his flaws, she loved him through it all, fully thinking she would be the one to fix him. 

Foolish, foolish girl, did you not know that a broken vase glued back together would still shatter?  

She bounced her daughter on her hip, wiping away the baby’s tears as hers started to fall. A sob bubbled from her chest when she heard Aegon calling out for her from the other room. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she continued to pack her daughter’s things with one hand while she held the baby. Aegon was still pitifully trying to straighten himself up, now knocking down the lamp by their bedside. 

A honk was heard from outside their home, and she rushed out with the baby bag to the car. Her brother, Cregan, had gotten out of the car, helping her settle her one-year-old daughter into the baby seat. When the baby was settled, she left her with her sister-in-law, Alysanne, before rushing back into the house one last time to grab her bags that sat in the living room.

Aegon had somehow managed to stumble down the stairs, knocking down the picture frames that lined along the walls. Bottles of various liquor still sat open on the countertops, mostly empty. 

Her hand had grabbed the handle of one of her suitcases when she was whipped around as Aegon grabbed her shoulders. His eyes were red, and his pale skin was heavily flushed. This wasn’t her Aegon, no, she didn’t know this man before her. Her Aegon used to have a face so angelic, that his mother even used to call him her little cherub. The sight of him in this state scared her, and she could only squeeze her eyes shut as he shook her shoulders, yelling.

“Why are you doing this? You promised me! You promised you would never leave!” He cried out. Hot tears fell down his cheeks, spit flying as he sobbed. His grip on her only tightened when she tried to wiggle out of his grip, her hands gripping his wrist to pull him away from her.

“Let go of me! You’re hurting me, Aegon!” She screamed as his nails dug into her flesh. In a blur, Aegon was sent to the ground once more, this time by a fuming Cregan. Her brother bent down to grab the collar of Aegon’s shirt, planting punches across his face in rage. 

She pulled at her brother’s shoulder with all of her strength, sobbing at the sight of Aegon’s beautiful face being painted by blood. Cregan only relented at a sob of his name, turning to hold his sister. “Don’t… don’t hurt him like that, please,” She pleaded.

Aegon turned to his side to spit out the blood that filled his mouth. He keeled over in pain, his head throbbing from the combination of his intoxication and the pain from Cregan’s fists.

He opened his eyes, bleary, to the sight of her walking out the door for the last time. He will never see her again.

The last thing he hears is the sound of an envelope dropped to the table and Cregan’s voice.

“You stay away from her.” He warned, coming to stand before Aegon’s crumbled form. “You stay away from her, Aegon, or I swear to the gods, I will kill you.” 

Aegon grimaced when Cregan spat on him, though he figured he deserved worse. As the front door closed and you drove away, Aegon laid helplessly on the floor of his empty home, staring at the envelope entailing the end of your marriage.

If you’re so funny,

Then why are you on your own tonight?

Aegon Targaryen was named the heir to Dragonstone Corporation upon his birth. He was to succeed his father, Viserys Targaryen, who forged their family name into history as the leaders of media across Westeros. At a young age, it was instilled in Aegon that he was destined for greatness, that he would further their success. He was surrounded by fame, money, and power, and for a long time, he relished it. Always spotted by the paparazzi throwing the wildest parties, his face covered the tabloids as they labeled him ‘The Bad Boy Targaryen’, “Viserys’ Problematic Heir!’, ‘The Future of Dragonstone flying high as a kite’. The weight of the pressure of having to fill in his father’s shoes made Aegon crumble. By the third year of university, he pulled out of school, dedicating his time to more debauchery and alcohol. He had found that to be drunk was to be numb. With enough booze in his system, he could forget his father’s disappointment, the pain of his mother’s heavy hand, and the jibes he would get from the press. 

It didn’t take long for Viserys to disinherit him, leaving him with only a third of his inheritance and the role of Dragonstone passed on to his sister, Rhaenyra.

And at last, he was free.

Free to drink to his heart’s desire. Free to spend his days wasting away, toiling for nobody. That was until he met her.

She blessed him with a love he had never known. It was different from the love of his mother, whose affections grew harsh whenever he displeased her, which was often. His mother loved him, but he knew well that she did not like him. Her love stemmed from her lack of choice on the matter, he was hers after all. 

But his girl, the light of his life, had shown him a love didn’t have to be worked for. A love that came with no expectations, no obligation. She had touched something deep within his numb heart and brought him alive. They had eloped after less than a year of dating, and their daughter had been born 9 months after that. For once, he was happy, he was content with his little family.

This change made him want to be an honest man, to try harder, and the gods know he did. But with the dependence he had developed on his vices, it didn’t take long for him to fall back into old, terrible habits. Something within him just couldn’t resist the temptation, the sweet numbness, the dizzying haze that kept his mind silent.

Every time he would come home to her with a toxic mixture of substances filling his system, what he remembered most was the way she looked at him. The sad, broken look in her eyes, the same one his mother used to have. That look had soon turned into disgust, and eventually into exhaustion.

He should have expected this, really. 

And as he lay in the bath, tears started to stream down his face, falling into the tepid water. He thought back to when they would sit together in the bath when his wife was pregnant. His hands rubbed soothingly at her belly, his lips kissed every inch of her skin, and she sighed in delight and leaned back against his chest. Aegon hiccuped another sob, wiping at his face furiously.

Icy blue eyes scanned around the bathroom they used to share, falling on a silver necklace on the marble countertop. It was the first gift he ever gave her, a simple chain with a symbol of a dragon engraved into its pendant. She used to tell him all the time it was her favorite, and that she couldn’t live without it, just like she couldn’t live without him. And now, the necklace lay abandoned in the bathroom, and so did Aegon.

Wouldn’t she be looking for it? I need to give it to her, she’ll come looking for it.

Will she?

The realization dawned on him that she had left it there, along with everything else that tied her to him— her ring, their wedding photos, even the shoes she wore at their wedding that she bought with a third of her savings.

She was never coming back, for her things, for him. Aegon closed his eyes and sighed, reaching over the edge of the tub for the bottle that sat waiting on the floor.

See, the sea wants to take me

The knife wants to slit me

Do you think you can help me?

“Mum?” Aegon panted into the phone, breath shuddering as he awaited to hear his mother’s voice.

“Aegon? Are you alright?” Alicent said, her sweet voice bringing her son instantly into tears.

“Mum, s-she’s gone. They left me, I’m all alone.” He sobbed. Alicent closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, pressing a hand to her heart as it broke upon hearing her firstborn’s despair.

“I know, my son, I know. You have to let her go. You have to get better, for her, for your daughter.” She said, in hopes of trying to get to him. Aegon only sobbed louder, his pitiful cries causing Alicent to cover her mouth with her hand as tears fell from her own eyes.

“Mum… Mum…” Aegon called out, suddenly starting to wheeze. “I don’t feel so good.” He mumbled.

“Aegon, what’s wrong? Talk to me, my darling,” Alicent said, panicking. She tried to listen helplessly as her son continued to splutter into the phone, before groaning in pain. “Aegon! What happened? Did you take something?” “I don’t know, Mum, I took these pills, I-I couldn’t sleep. I want to sleep, Mum… ‘m so tired,” He uttered, voice growing weaker as his eyelids grew heavier.

“Hello? Aegon? Aegon, please, my darling. Say somethin— Criston, Criston! We need to go it’s my son, it’s Aeg— Aegon? Can you hear me sweet boy? We’re coming just, please!” 

The sweet sound of his mother’s voice was the last thing that Aegon did as his eyes shut closed and he let out a sigh. He lay on the floor, still surrounded by the mess that came with the whirlwind of her departure. He laid on the floor, so very still, letting the weight of his pain be lifted away, along with every ounce of his being.

Oh, Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head

#bella writes ✍️ #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii fic recs #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the elder #modern aegon #hotd #hotd x reader #tom glynn carney #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader