goddessofvalyria

[goddessofvalyria]

Is your fic My Sweet Sister a repost? I swear I saw it before lol

YES!! I've corrected some write mistakes that I made because I was tired, hope you liked it! ❤️

[goddessofvalyria]

My sweet sister | Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: After the battle at Rook's Rest Aemond came home to his pregnant wife. Aegon is injured, and Aemond is now the prince regent. His sister-wife needs him but he's concentrate about the war. She feels unwanted so one night she decides to seduce him.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT, She/Her pronouns, pregnant sister-wife, face sitting, oral (f), fingering, sex.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 2,7K

The night is still and quiet in King's Landing, but inside the Red Keep, tensions run as high as they ever have.

The aftermath of the battle at Rook's Rest has left the realm in disarray, the death of Rhaenys Targaryen echoing through the halls of the capital. Aegon lies grievously injured, barely clinging to life, leaving Aemond to take up the mantle of prince regent.

For days now, Aemond has been consumed by matters of war - the constant strategy meetings, messengers flooding in with reports, and the looming threat of more rebellion. His mind is singularly focused on the task of holding the Seven Kingdoms together. Though he returns to his chambers every night, he seems distant, emotionally unavailable, his sharp focus entirely elsewhere.

His sister-wife watches him from across their shared chambers, her delicate hand resting on her swollen belly. She is with child, yet her husband's thoughts remain miles away. She feels neglected, forgotten, as if the man who once cherished her has faded into nothing but a ghost. He barely touches her now, speaks to her only in curt tones about the war or their children, the cold mask of duty draped over him like a shroud.

Aemond sits near the fire, pouring over maps with a furrowed brow, his long silver hair falling into his face.

The firelight flickers, casting shadows across the sharp planes of his features, making him look even more unapproachable.

"Aemond" she begins softly, but he doesn't raise his head. She bites her lip, summoning her courage. Her voice trembles as she speaks again, louder this time.

"Aemond."

He finally looks up, his single violet eye flicking toward her. "What is it, my love? Is something wrong?" His tone is cool, though not unkind. It's simply detached, distant.

She hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head, her silvery blonde curls catching the light. "No, nothing's wrong" she says, though the knot of loneliness inside her tightens. She takes a step closer to him, her bare feet soundless on the cold stone floor.

Aemond sighs, his eye drifting back to his maps.

"Good. There is much to discuss, and I cannot afford any distractions."

The word cuts deeper than he realizes. She clenches her fists at her sides, feeling the sting of rejection. She knows he is under immense pressure, but his indifference toward her is unbearable. She is his wife — his sister, his lover, the mother of his children. Yet, he treats her as though she is no more than another obligation.

The princess makes a decision then, one that feels reckless, even scandalous. But she cannot bear this icy distance any longer. She needs her husband back, needs to remind him of what they once shared. Slowly, she begins to undo the ties of her gown, the pale green fabric slipping from her shoulders. Aemond doesn't notice at first, still focused on the maps, the war, the chaos that surrounds them.

When she lets the gown pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the thin shift beneath, she takes a breath, her heart racing. Her hands move to untie the last layer, and she steps closer to him.

"Aemond" she whispers, her voice husky with something unfamiliar to even herself.

He glances up again, his expression unreadable. His eye briefly flickers down to her form, though it seems to take him a moment to register what she's doing.

When it finally does, his brows furrow in confusion.

""My love...?" His voice trails off as she takes another step forward, the shift sliding from her body.

The firelight dances over her skin, casting a golden glow across her soft curves. She stands before him now, completely bare, unashamed, though her heart thunders in her chest. Aemond stares at her, his usual control faltering for the first time in days.

"What are you doing?" His voice is low, but there's a note of tension beneath it, a crack in his stoic demeanor.

She moves closer, her hips swaying with a deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving his. "I've missed you" she murmurs, her hands reaching out to touch his shoulder, to feel the warmth of him beneath her fingertips. "You've been away, even when you're here. I need you, Aemond. I need my husband."

He inhales sharply as her hands glide over his chest, her touch light yet insistent. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, he truly sees her not as the pregnant sister-wife waiting patiently in the shadows, but as the woman he once desired fiercely, the woman he loved.

His eye darkens with something more primal as she slides onto his lap, straddling him, her hands moving to cradle his face. "I know you've been consumed by war" she whispers, her lips brushing against his ear. "But I'm still here. I need you, and I think you need me too."

He exhales a ragged breath, his hand coming up to grip her waist almost unconsciously. The maps scatter to the floor as she presses closer, her body warm and inviting against his. His restraint, the careful mask he wears so well, begins to crumble as he feels her softness against him.

"My love, my sweet sister..." His voice is strained, thick with the battle between duty and desire. "This isn't... you shouldn't..."

She silences him with a kiss, her lips soft but insistent against his. It's not a timid kiss; it's full of yearning, of need, of everything she's kept bottled up for weeks.

Aemond groans against her mouth, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily forgotten as he pulls her closer, his hands roaming over her back, her hips.

When they finally break apart, both of them are breathless. Aemond's eye searches hers, as though trying to find his bearings.

"You're right" he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

"I've been away for too long." He tightens his grip on her, his fingers digging into her skin. "But not tonight."

She smiles, her eyes shining with triumph and affection. She leans in to kiss him again, and this time, there is no hesitation from him. Aemond surrenders completely, his war forgotten for the night. He's no longer a prince regent or a soldier in the endless battle for the throne. For this moment, he is simply a man, lost in the arms of the woman he loves.

Aemond's eye darkens with raw desire as he pulls her closer, his lips brushing against hers, yet his control, once unshakable, has utterly crumbled in the face of her need and his own long-repressed hunger. He leans back, his hands gripping her hips firmly, guiding her as she straddles him. Their kiss deepens, his fingers moving over her skin with a new urgency, tracing the curve of her spine and thighs.

Aemond’s hand slides down between her thighs, finding her soaked pussy. "You're wet, sweet sister" he whispers, kissing her neck as she wrestles with his clothes and tears his shirt off. "Shh" Aemond whispers calmly, sliding two fingers into her soaking slit.

She begins to ride his fingers, her juices dripping from her pussy, wetting his pants and forming a stain on them. She clings to him, moving her hips eager for his fingers, but Aemond has other plans for her.

When she pulls back to catch her breath, he's already leaning forward again, trailing kisses down her neck, murmuring against her skin, "I've missed this... missed you."

Her breathing quickens as his lips move lower, his hands now exploring her body with purpose. He gently pushes her back onto the bed, his violet eye burning with something untamed, his restraint lost entirely to the desire that has simmered beneath the surface for far too long. His gaze rakes over her, admiring her, but it's more than that. It's worship.

"You've been so patient with me" Aemond murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "But tonight, it's only us. I want to make you feel... everything."

His sister-wife's breath catches as his words sink in, and she feels a shiver of anticipation course through her. She's never seen him like this, so unguarded, so intent on her pleasure. When he presses a kiss just below her navel, she gasps, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging slightly as his lips continue their descendant.

"Aemond..." she whispers, her voice trembling with need.

He looks up at her, his eye locking onto hers with a predatory glint. "I want you to sit on my face" he says quietly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

She hesitates for only a second, unsure of what he means, but then his hands are guiding her, urging her gently to straddle his face. Her heart races at the unspoken promise in his gaze, and she lets herself give in, positioning herself above him.

Aemond's hands grip her hips, steadying her as he looks up at her, his expression fierce with desire. "Let go, my sweet sister" he whispers, and then his mouth is on her, his tongue moving with practiced precision against her most sensitive spot.

She cries out, her hands clutching the bed sheets as a wave of pleasure crashes over her. Aemond's tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes, teasing and tasting, drawing out every moan, every gasp, his grip tightening on her hips as he pulls her closer. Helena feels her thighs trembling, her whole body alight with sensation, her head spinning as he lavishes attention on her.

"Oh, gods" she moans, her voice a breathless whimper, barely able to form coherent words. Her hips begin to move of their own accord, grinding against his mouth, and Aemond groans in response, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through her.

He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, his tongue moving faster now, more insistent, as one of his hands slides up her thigh. She gasps again when she feels his fingers slide inside her, slow at first, then curling upward, finding the perfect rhythm with his tongue. The combination of his mouth, his nose pressing on her clit and his fingers overwhelms her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

"Aemond-" Her voice is breathless, trembling, and she can't hold on any longer. She feels the tension in her core snap, her body trembling as she comes undone above him, her cries echoing through the chamber.

Aemond doesn't let up, continuing his ministrations until her body is spent, shaking in the aftermath of her release.

He gently lowers her back onto the bed, his lips glistening, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watches her try to catch her breath.

"Was that good, my love?" he asks, his voice a deep, satisfied rumble.

Sh still reeling from the intensity of what just happened, nods weakly, her body still trembling.

"Gods, Aemond... yes."

But he isn't done yet.

He moves over her again, his hands sliding up her body as he kisses her deeply, and she tastes herself on his lips. There's an urgency in his kiss now, his need for her as strong as ever. His hard length presses against her thigh, and she feels a new wave of heat build within  her.

"Aemond, please" she breathes against his lips, her voice heavy with longing. "I need you."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Aemond slips off his trousers and pants, leaving him naked with a throbbing, wet, long, painful erection between his legs.

He positions himself between her legs, his eye locking onto hers as he slowly pushes into her. The feeling of him inside her, stretching her sweet, wet and soaked pussy, filling her, draws a soft moan from her lips. He moves slowly at first, letting her adjust to the feeling, but soon his pace quickens, his need for her overtaking him.

She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her fingers digging into his back as their bodies move together. Each thrust sends a surge of pleasure through her, and she feels herself spiraling toward the edge once again.

"Look at me" Aemond growls, his voice thick with lust.

His gaze burns into hers, intense, unrelenting. "I want to see you when you fall apart."

She holds his gaze, her breath coming in short gasps as she feels the pressure building again, higher and higher, until it finally shatters. She cries out his name as she tumbles over the edge, her body clenching around him, pulling him even deeper.

Aemond groans loudly, his pace faltering as he finds his own release, spilling into her with one final thrust.

He collapses onto her, his forehead resting against hers as they both struggle to catch their breath. 

For a long moment, there's only the sound of their breathing, their bodies still entangled. Aemond presses a soft kiss to her lips, his earlier intensity replaced by something gentler, more tender.

"I've missed you" he murmurs, his voice low but filled with affection.

She smiles, her hand sliding into his hair. "I've missed you too." She pauses, then adds softly,

"Promise me you won't leave me again."

Aemond looks down at her, his expression serious. "I swear it," he says, his hand cupping her face. "No more distance. I'll be here. Always."

Aemond lies beside her sister-wife, his body still pressed close to hers, both of them basking in the quiet aftersex of their reunion. Their breathing has slowed, the firelight casting a soft glow over the room, but the air between them now feels different - warmer, intimate in a way it hasn't been for months.

His hand moves tenderly to her belly, gently resting on the curve where their child grows, and for a moment, he is no longer the prince regent, no longer the warrior consumed by war and bloodshed. Here, he is only a husband and a father. He leans down slowly, his lips brushing the soft skin of her belly. The gesture is tender, reverent, as though he's touching something sacred. She watches him with a soft smile, her fingers running through his silver hair, and she feels her heart swell with affection for this man - the man who, despite everything, is hers.

Aemond kisses her belly again, more firmly this time, his eye softening as he presses his lips against the place where their child stirs within her. He lingers there, his breath warm against her skin, before speaking in a low, gentle voice, a voice he uses with no one else but her.

"My little dragon" he murmurs softly, his hand caressing her rounded stomach. "Your father is here, and I will protect you... both of you."

Her violet eyes glisten as she watches him, her heart full. There's a vulnerability in him now, something he doesn't show to anyone else, but with her, he lets the mask fall. He presses another kiss to her belly, his fingers tracing small, soothing circles.

"You will be strong" he continues, his voice filled with quiet determination. "Born into a world of fire and blood, but you will never want for love." He looks up at her sweet sister-wife, his gaze soft but unwavering. "I will make sure of it."

She smiles, her hand still cradling his head, her thumb brushing over his cheek. "Our little dragon is lucky to have you" she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

Aemond closes his eye for a moment, letting himself feel the warmth of her words. Then, he kisses her belly once more, lingering there as if speaking directly to the life growing within her.

Her heart swells as she watches him, her hand still resting on his head, feeling the weight of his love for both her and their unborn child. For a brief moment, the chaos of the world outside fades away, leaving only the three of them - their small family, bound together in love and shared destiny.

Aemond looks up at her again, his expression softened by the love he can never fully express with words alone.

"'ll protect you both," he vows once more, his voice firm yet tender. "No matter what."

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Lust & Love | Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Between them was always a question of lust and love. Aemond was his uncle, she was his niece and Rhaenyra and Daemon's daughter. One night, Aemond took her outside the Red Kep and they consume all the lust, love and that carnal desire that devoured them both.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT, She/Her pronouns, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (f and m receiving) sexual tension, sex, virginity loss.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4,7K

Aemond Targaryen walked ahead with his usual deliberate pace, his long silver hair catching the light. His sapphire eye gleamed coldly in the dim evening, but there was a heat in the air that neither of them could ignore. Behind him followed his niece: her silver hair, inherited from her Targaryen lineage, and the dragonfire in her violet eyes marked her as a child of both Rhaenyra and Daemon. She was older now, no longer the girl he had known from his youth, and something had changed between them.

Their meeting had been brief, unspoken, yet they both knew where the night was heading.

"Why here?" she finally asked, her voice soft but strong, a sharp contrast to the noise of revelers and courtesans that surrounded them. The Street of Silk, known for its brothels and carnal pleasures, seemed an odd place for an encounter between royals. "What purpose does this serve, uncle?"

Aemond didn't turn to face her as they approached a particular brothel, its sign swinging lazily in the wind. "You question me now, after following me this far?" His voice was smooth, but it carried an edge. He paused, glancing back at her, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

She stared at him, a mixture of curiosity and caution in her gaze. For all his coldness, there was something undeniable about the way he looked at her: something that had always been there, lurking beneath the surface of their familial interactions. It was a dangerous game, and she had always been drawn to danger. Like her father, Daemon, the thrill of the forbidden, the challenge of the unknown, called to her.

"Aemond" she spoke his name with the intimacy of a secret shared only between them, stepping closer. "You think this will intimidate me? That this place will make me fear you?"

Aemond’s smirk deepened. "Intimidation? No, sweet niece" He moved swiftly, his hand reaching out to grasp her wrist gently but firmly, pulling her toward him. "But here, there are no eyes. No expectations. Just us."

Her heart raced, but she did not pull away. The air between them crackled, a palpable tension that neither of them could deny any longer. Aemond released her wrist, his fingers lingering for a moment too long before he stepped back, his voice low, almost a whisper.

"You are your mother’s daughter, and your father’s as well." He gazed at her intensely. "But here, you’re something else. What are you, niece?"

She felt a shiver run down her spine, not of fear, but of anticipation. There was no denying the pull between them, the dark, twisted attraction that had always been there. Aemond, with his singular focus and ruthlessness, had always fascinated her in a way she had never admitted aloud.

She took a step closer to him, her hand lightly brushing his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his tunic. "I am whatever you want me to be, uncle" she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear, feeling the heat radiating from him.

Aemond’s breath hitched, his control slipping just for a moment. His hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies pressed together. "I want you as you are" he breathed, his voice dark and filled with desire. "But I will have you on my terms."

"Do you think this is wrong?" he asked, his voice low, but the hunger in his tone was unmistakable.

"Yes" she whispered, her voice trembling, but she made no effort to move away. "And I'd love to do everything you want."

The air in the brothel was thick with the scent of incense and lust, a place of secrets and indulgence, where even the noblest of bloodlines could lose themselves in the shadows. The Street of Silk hummed with laughter and pleasure, but inside, it was quieter, more intimate.

Aemond pushed open the heavy wooden door, his niece at his side. The brothel's dim lanterns cast a warm, amber glow over their silver hair. Madame Sylvie, the proprietress of the establishment, appeared from behind the velvet curtain, her eyes sharp as they fell upon the two royals.

Aemond didn’t hesitate. "A chamber" he said coolly, his voice authoritative as always. There was no request in his tone, just a command.

Madame Sylvie smiled knowingly, nodding toward the staircase that led to the more private rooms above. "Of course, my prince. Follow me." She gestured gracefully, her eyes briefly flicking to the young woman by Aemond’s side, recognizing the unmistakable dragonblood in her.

His niece said nothing as they followed Sylvie up the narrow stairs, her heart pounding, her steps slow with anticipation. The walls seemed to close in, a mixture of heat and tension rising between them with each step. She had followed him here willingly, but the deeper they went into this place, the more the reality of what might happen pressed down on her.

They reached a chamber, its door creaking open as Sylvie stepped aside. "Enjoy yourselves" she said with a sly smile before retreating, leaving them alone in the quiet room.

The chamber was simple but decadent in its own way: a large bed covered in deep red sheets, adorned with candles, and thick curtains that would shut out the world.

"Why here?" she asked again, her voice softer now, no longer the confident challenge it had been outside. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him, the way he stood there, perfectly composed, as if he had planned every moment of this night.

Aemond turned to her slowly, his eye dark and piercing. "Because here..." he said, his voice low and thick with intent. "There are no masks. No pretense. Just you… and me." He took a step closer, and she felt her breath catch.

Without another word, he reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her face upward to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed her lower lip, lingering there for a moment as if testing the boundaries of restraint. Then, with the same deliberate slowness, he leaned down and kissed her: hard, possessive, and full of the desire that had simmered between them for so long.

She gasped against his mouth, her body responding before her mind could catch up. His kiss deepened, and with it came a hunger that had been barely contained. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as her body pressed against his, the heat between them undeniable.

When he pulled away, her lips were swollen from his kiss, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. His smirk returned, dark and full of promise.

"Undress" he commanded, his voice soft yet unyielding.

She hesitated, just for a heartbeat, feeling the weight of his gaze on her. But she knew this was a game they had both been playing for longer than either would admit. Slowly, with trembling hands, she began to untie the laces of her dress, her movements deliberate, knowing his eye never left her.

Aemond stepped back slightly, leaning against the wall, watching her as she revealed more of her pale skin with every movement. His gaze burned into her, making her skin tingle under its intensity.

When her dress finally pooled at her feet, she stood before him in nothing but her smallclothes, her body exposed to the cool air of the chamber. He let his eye roam over her, a long, lingering look that sent a shiver down her spine.

"All of it, sweet niece" he said, his voice a low growl now, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a blade.

She did as he asked, her heart racing, stripping away the final barriers between them. When she stood completely bare before him, she felt vulnerable—but also powerful, the weight of his desire palpable in the air between them.

Aemond pushed away from the wall and crossed the room to her in two swift strides. He didn’t touch her, not yet. Instead, he circled her slowly, like a predator assessing its prey. His eye never left her body, his presence looming, dark, and dangerous.

"Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper but filled with dark intent. He stood behind her now, so close she could feel the heat of his body. His breath brushed the back of her neck, sending another shiver through her.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t trust herself to find the words. The tension between them was so thick, it was suffocating. All she could do was nod, her chest tight with anticipation.

"Good" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear before he stepped away again, his touch just out of reach, teasing her. "Now, lie on the bed."

Her body moved without thought, obeying him as if some unspoken force drew her into submission. She climbed onto the bed, her bare skin sinking into the soft sheets as she settled onto her back, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

Aemond stood at the foot of the bed, his gaze roaming over her with a look of dark satisfaction. "Beautiful" he murmured, his voice filled with something almost reverent. "My perfect little niece."

Slowly, he began to unfasten his clothes, his movements deliberate, as though savoring the moment. His lean, muscular frame was revealed inch by inch. And yet, his movements now were controlled, calculated, as if he were savoring the tension, drawing it out for as long as possible.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her without touching, his breath warm against her lips as he whispered: "Tonight, you belong to me."

The air inside the chamber felt heavier now, thick with anticipation as Aemond Targaryen stood before her, his gaze dark and unrelenting. His niece, bare and vulnerable, lay on the bed, her skin glowing in the dim candlelight. There was no escape from the intensity that charged the room between them, nor did she want one.

Aemond leaned over her, his silver hair falling forward as he brought his lips down to hers again. His kiss was slow this time, teasing, coaxing a soft gasp from her lips as his tongue gently parted them. He tasted her deeply, savoring her, his hands staying just out of reach, refusing to touch her even as her body yearned for it. She arched toward him instinctively, but he pulled back, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, moving down to the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Tonight" he murmured against her skin, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "You'll learn to please yourself."

Her breath hitched as he hovered over her, his lips ghosting over her collarbone, her body trembling beneath him. His words sank into her, and her pulse quickened, a flush spreading across her cheeks. She swallowed, her throat tight with the weight of his gaze, feeling both nervous and excited about what was to come.

Aemond's hand finally moved to hers, his long fingers wrapping around her wrist, guiding her trembling hand down to her own body. He paused for a moment, his eye watching her closely, as if waiting to see if she would resist. But she didn’t. She wanted to follow his lead, wanted to know what this dark game of his would bring.

"Open your legs and touch yourself for me" he commanded softly, his voice a mix of patience and desire.

"How?" she asked innocently.

"Two fingers" he explained. "Little circles on this little bundle of nerves that is placed here" he grabbed her hand and took between her thighs, her fingers touching a soft pearl. "This is your clit."

She blushed. "Now, slowly...push your fingers between your wet folds." he smirked. "Feel what I have felt watching you all these years. Learn to know your own pleasure."

Her fingers trembled as they slid down her stomach, the heat of his gaze burning into her skin. "Touch yourself for me, little niece. Touch yourself and hear my voice" She bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest as her hand slipped lower, between her thighs.

"I touch myself every night before sleeping, thinking about you, your lips, your touch, how you'll be perfect in my bed"

The touch was tentative at first, her fingers grazing lightly over her wet folds. A soft whimper escaped her lips, surprising even herself. She felt her cheeks flush deeply under his intense gaze.

Aemond smirked, watching her with that same predatory gleam in his eye. "Good" he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Don't stop. Show me how you come undone."

His voice was like a command, and she obeyed, her fingers moving with more confidence now into her wet soaked pussy.

She felt herself grow slick with desire, her body responding to the slow, rhythmic strokes of her hand. Aemond's presence beside her, the weight of his gaze, only heightened her arousal, making every touch more electric, more forbidden.

She moaned softly, her fingers circling her sensitive clit, her hips lifting off the bed as waves of pleasure rippled through her. Aemond leaned closer, his lips brushing the side of her neck, his breath hot and steady as he whispered into her ear, guiding her.

"That’s it" he murmured. "Don’t stop. Keep going. Faster."

Her fingers moved quicker in her wet cunt, her breaths coming in short gasps now as the pleasure built inside her, coiling tighter with every movement. She was lost in it, lost in the intensity of the moment, lost in the way her own body responded to the touch, to the sounds of his voice in her ear. "My sweet niece, my little niece..." he whispered. "My little princess who gives pleasure to his uncle's command, such a dirty girl".

Aemond leaned down, kissing her shoulder and tracing a trail of wet kisses until he took one of her nipples between his lips. He sucked it to make it more sensitive and under her soft lips, it immediately hardened. She swelled his fingers deeper and began to go against her with his pelvis. Aemond continued to suck her nipple and with his other hand to stimulate the other. She arched her back, feeling full. His fingers felt good, sliding from her soaking folds in and out making obscene noises and the prince felt his erection growing between his legs.

Gods, how he wanted to fuck her, ruin the daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra, about whom he had always had little fantasies. Between them it had always been like this: looks, provocations, but everything had reached the limit when two nights before she had joined him in the library and kissed him whispering to possess her.

He had taken the challenge and brought her there, where he could ruin her without anyone to disturb them.

Now there they were, she under him pleasuring herself by masturbating and him sucking her nipple. Both naked, hot and horny.

The tension in her belly tightened, the heat spreading throughout her body until finally—she came, her body shaking, her moans filling the small chamber.

"Uncle..." she gasped. "You did amazing, little niece."

Aemond’s eye darkened with satisfaction as he watched her fall apart, her fingers slowing as the waves of her orgasm washed over her. For a moment, she lay there, her chest heaving, her mind spinning in the aftermath of her release.

But Aemond wasn’t finished.

He lowered himself down onto the bed, his hands firm on her thighs as he parted them further, his gaze locked onto hers. There was something primal in the way he looked at her now, something dark and hungry that made her heart race all over again.

"Now" he said, his voice deep, full of dark promise, "I will show you how a man pleases a woman."

Her breath hitched as Aemond settled between her legs, his strong hands gripping her thighs to keep them apart. He held her gaze for a long, charged moment before his head dipped down, his lips brushing the inside of her thigh, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin.

She gasped, her body still sensitive from her release, but the anticipation building inside her all over again. Aemond took his time, his mouth moving closer to her core, his breath hot against her slick folds, teasing her, drawing out the moment. She writhed beneath him, her body aching for more, but he was in no hurry.

When his tongue finally found her, it was slow, deliberate. He licked her softly at first, tasting her, savoring the heat and wetness that remained from her earlier release.

She moaned, her hands gripping the sheets as her body reacted to his touch, her hips lifting off the bed, but Aemond’s grip on her thighs was firm, holding her in place.

Aemond devoured her and licked her like a hungry man, tongue fucking her hole and tasting that sweet, sticky, white juice. She moaned, arched her back and put a hand between her legs and began to stimulate her clit.

He teased her with long, slow strokes of his tongue, his movements controlled and precise, building her pleasure again but never letting her reach the peak too quickly. Every time she edged closer to release, he would pull back slightly, making her wait, drawing out the tension until it became almost unbearable.

"Aemond" she gasped, her voice trembling, her body aching for release.

She kept stimulating her clit, he kept licking her and that combination was deadly for her. She felt her nipples harden again, her beloved uncle's tongue between things and again that strange sensation.

He smirked against her skin, his tongue circling her clit slowly before he pulled back just enough to speak. "Not yet" he whispered. "You cum when I say."

She whimpered, the heat inside her coiling tighter, her body desperate for more. Aemond, satisfied with her obedience, finally relented, his tongue pressing harder against her, faster now, his lips sucking at her sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers gripped her thighs tighter, holding her still.

Her head fell back against the pillows, her moans louder now, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations he was giving her. The pleasure built quickly, the tight coil inside her snapping as her second orgasm crashed over her, more powerful than the first. She cried out, her body shaking, her fingers clutching the sheets as Aemond's mouth continued its work, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until she was left breathless and spent.

He lifted his head finally, his lips slick with her arousal, a satisfied, wicked smile on his face.

"You're so beautiful, aroused, wet and ruined by me." he touched her between her legs, her cunt was dripping and she was so sensitive. "You need to be fucked, I can feel it."

The air in the chamber was charged with an intoxicating mixture of lust and tension as Aemond pulled back, his lips slick with the taste of her, a dark, satisfied look in his eye. His niece lay sprawled across the bed, her body trembling from the release he had just coaxed out of her, her breath still coming in shallow gasps. But even as the aftershocks of her pleasure coursed through her, she felt something deeper stirring within—a hunger that hadn’t been sated yet.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, the way his lean, muscular form moved with such controlled power, his silver hair falling messily around his face. There was something primal in the way he looked at her, like a predator savoring its catch. But beneath that, she could sense the same desire, the same raw need burning inside him.

"Aemond, uncle..."

Her heart pounded as she reached for him, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on his chest. His skin was hot beneath her touch, his muscles tensing under her fingers. She looked up at him, her voice breathy but filled with intent.

"Teach me" she whispered, her eyes locked onto his. "Teach me how a woman pleases a man."

Aemond’s gaze darkened at her words, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it was quickly replaced by a smirk—a dangerous, predatory smile that sent a shiver through her. He reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her face up toward his as he leaned closer.

"You want to learn?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, full of dark promise. "Very well, my sweet niece. I will teach you."

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, igniting a fire that she could feel burning through her entire body. She moaned against his lips, her hands gripping his hair, pulling him closer, wanting, needing more.

Aemond's hand moved to hers, guiding her to his hard, erect, long and fat cock. Her eyes widened slightly, her breath hitching at the sight of him. Aemond’s smirk deepened as he watched her reaction, his hand gently guiding her to wrap her fingers around him, showing her how to please him.

"Like this" he murmured, his voice low and strained as her hand moved slowly up and down his length, feeling him grow even harder beneath her touch. "Don’t be afraid. I want to feel you."

She watched his face, mesmerized by the way his jaw clenched, the way his breath hitched with each movement of her hand. The power of it—knowing she could affect him like this, that she could bring him pleasure—sent a thrill through her, making her bold. She quickened her pace, her fingers tightening slightly as she stroked him, feeling his body tense under her touch.

Aemond’s grip on her wrist tightened, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. "You’re learning fast" he rasped, his voice thick with desire. "But tonight, I want more than just your hand or your mouth."

Before she could respond, Aemond pushed her back onto the bed, his hands rough but careful as he spread her legs once more, his body settling between them. The weight of him pressed down on her, his skin hot against hers, their bodies aligning in a way that made her gasp with anticipation.

His lips found hers again, a searing kiss that left her dizzy, her hands roaming over the hard planes of his back, her fingers digging into his skin as he teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, not yet entering but hovering just enough to drive her mad with need.

"Do you want this?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous. His eye searched hers, waiting for her answer. "Do you want to be fucked?"

"Yes" she gasped, her nails digging into his back. "Aemond, please... uncle, fuck me."

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed into her, filling her completely. She cried out, her body arching against his, the sensation of him inside her overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that left her breathless. Aemond groaned, his control slipping for a moment as he felt her tighten around him, her body trembling beneath his.

She wasn't virgin anymore.

"Look at me," Aemond whispered, grabbing her face. "You're mine."

He had ruined her, he had taken away all her purity and she… she had wanted all of this.

"So tight, hot and wet... all for me" he muttered through gritted teeth, his breath hot against her neck as he pulled back slightly, only to thrust into her again, deeper this time.

She gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, her fingers tangling in his hair as he set a slow, deliberate rhythm, his hips moving against hers in perfect, practiced control. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, building on the heat that was already simmering inside her.

Aemond’s gaze never left her, watching the way her face contorted with pleasure, the way her body responded to his every movement. "You feel perfect" he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Like you were made for me."

She moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders as his thrusts became harder, faster, the pleasure building inside her, coiling tight like a spring ready to snap.

He began to thrust into her like an animal, fucking her pinned to the bed. She began to moan, feeling herself opening up on her favorite uncle's wet cock. She clung to his body, clawing at his back and leaving hickeys on his neck, Aemond buried himself deep inside her wet pussy. She had waited too long and that moment had finally come.

She could feel herself getting closer, her body trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as he pushed her closer to the edge.

"Aemond—" she gasped, her nails digging into his skin as she felt the tightness inside her unraveling, the pleasure crashing over her in waves.

He watched her fall apart beneath him, the sight of her coming undone pushing him closer to his own release. His thrusts grew rougher, more erratic, his control slipping as he chased his own pleasure, groaning her name as he buried himself deep inside her one last time, his body tensing as he came.

For a long moment, they lay there, tangled together in the aftermath, their bodies slick with sweat, their breathing heavy. Aemond’s forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her lips as they both came down from the high of their release.

He looked down at her, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face as he smirked, satisfaction evident in his gaze. "You’ve learned well" he murmured, his voice a mix of teasing and pride.

She smiled weakly, her body still trembling, her mind spinning with everything that had just happened. "With a master like you" she whispered, her voice hoarse: "How could I not?"

Aemond chuckled softly, his lips brushing hers in a slow, lingering kiss before he rolled onto his back, pulling her against him.

The night wasn’t over yet, and they both knew it.

She looked at him with perversion in her purple eyes. "Uncle," she whispered, sitting up. "I heard…" she let her gaze wander around the room. "I heard that women don't just sit on the bottom during sex," she rose to her knees, straddling his chest. "Don't you think you've learned too much tonight?" he teased.

"Let's see if I can convince you" she teased. She slowly moved her silver hair behind her back, put two fingers between her lips and sucked them. Aemond, naked and under her, remained watching her. He wanted to see the bad girl he had created. His sweet niece brought her hands to her breasts, began to touch herself and harden her nipples, began to move her hips and Aemond felt her wet pussy on his skin.

"I want to ride you, teach me" she whispered, leaning over him to kiss him with her tongue. "Teach me, uncle."

Aemond grabbed her hips, moving her to his pelvis, she licked her lips. "Lift your hips" he instructed. "And sit on it" a grin formed on his face as she lowered herself onto his cock, filling herself.

She moaned loudly, cupping her breasts with her hands, then sliding them down his toned chest. "Uncle" she moaned. "Move your hips" he murmured, feeling himself buried in her tight pussy again. His sweet niece began to move, over and over, starting to get into a rhythm.

She found herself riding him, feeling his cock buried in her, and moaning with every move. Aemond slapped her ass, making her giggle, and soon after, he moved his hand between her thighs, starting to move over her clit.

She began to pant, riding him faster, the room filled with obscene sounds again and her excitement covered his cock as he emptied himself inside. "Uncle" she whispered amused. "Tomorrow morning we return to the keep" she whispered against his lips. "And I will tell my parents what you did to me" she grabbed his face with one hand.

"So you will be forced to marry me" Aemond whispered. "And I will not have to marry any Lords or one of my brothers" she smiled wickedly.

"But perhaps… before dawn we could fuck a third time?" she asked lying on his chest.

"Do you like it? Do you like sex, mh, little niece?" Aemond asked stroking her hair.

"Only if it's you, Uncle Aemond" she murmured just before kissing him greedily and caressing softly his scar.

[goddessofvalyria]

GROUPIE LOVE | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Aemond Targaryen, a famous rock star, notices a girl in the audience and when he waves to her backstage with a casual wave of his fingers, she follows him without thinking twice.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT, She/Her pronouns, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (f and m receiving)squirting, sexual tension, sex.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 3135

"You're in the bar, playing guitar I'm trying not to let the crowd next to me It's so hard sometimes with a star When you have to share him with everybody You're in the club, living it up I'm trying not to let the crowd notice me It's so sweet, swingin' to the beat When I know that you're doing it all for me"

— Groupie Love, Lana Del Rey & A$AP Rocky

The air inside the small backstage room is heavy with anticipation. The crowd outside roars as the band plays their final encore, the thumping beat of the drums reverberating through the walls. She waits, perched on the edge of a weathered leather couch, fingers tapping nervously against her knee. She knows she shouldn’t be here, but the pull is irresistible. The allure of the man who will soon walk through that door is too strong to ignore.

Aemond Targaryen.

The name is enough to send a shiver down her spine. He’s a legend, the frontman and the guitarist of the most iconic rock band of their generation, and she’s just another face in the sea of fans. But tonight, he noticed her. He spotted her in the crowd, his intense violet eyes locking onto hers, a smirk curling his lips as he sang. And when he beckoned her backstage with a casual flick of his fingers, she followed without a second thought.

The door swings open, and there he is, sweat-drenched and wild-eyed, electric energy still buzzing around him from the show. He’s everything she imagined he would be—tall, lean, with a striking face that’s both beautiful and fierce. His platinum hair falls in tangled waves around his shoulders, framing that captivating eye patch covering his left eye. His gaze lands on her, and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his lips.

“Hey” he drawls, voice low and husky from hours of singing, yet still dripping with charisma. He crosses the room in a few long strides, dropping onto the couch beside her, his thigh pressing against hers. The air between them crackles with tension, the kind that makes her heart race and her breath hitch.

“Hi” she manages to whisper, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heartbeat. She feels like she’s in a dream, every nerve in her body alive and humming. She can hardly believe she’s here, sitting next to Aemond Targaryen, close enough to touch.

He reaches out, a finger curling under her chin, tilting her head up so she’s looking directly into his eye. “You enjoyed the show?” he asks, his breath warm against her lips. The words are almost a purr, filled with an intimacy that sends a flush of heat through her body.

She nods, swallowing hard. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”

Aemond’s smirk deepens, his thumb brushing lightly over her bottom lip. “Glad to hear it. I like knowing my fans appreciate what I do.” His hand moves to cup her cheek, his thumb now stroking along her jawline, the touch sending shivers down her spine.

There’s something dark and dangerous in his gaze, a promise of what’s to come. He leans in closer, his lips ghosting over hers, teasing her with the barest hint of a kiss. “You want to show me just how much you appreciate it?” he murmurs, his breath mingling with hers.

Her breath catches in her throat. She’s never wanted anything more in her life. She nods, her lips parting in anticipation, and that’s all the encouragement Aemond needs. He kisses her, slow and sensual, his lips soft but demanding against hers. His hand tangles in her hair, pulling her closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting, exploring.

She melts into him, a soft moan escaping her lips as his hand slides down her body, tracing the curve of her waist, his fingers slipping under her leather bustier. His touch is electrifying, sending sparks of desire coursing through her veins. She arches into him, craving more, needing more.

Aemond pulls back slightly, his lips hovering over hers, his breath ragged. “You’re beautiful” he whispers, his hand moving to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple through the fabric of her bra. “So fucking beautiful.”

She whimpers, her head falling back against the couch as his mouth moves to her neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands are everywhere, roaming her body with a hunger that leaves her breathless, her skin tingling with anticipation. She feels his lips curl into a grin against her throat as his fingers trail lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her skirt.

“Spread your legs for me, love” he murmurs against her skin, his voice a seductive growl that makes her shiver. She does as he asks, her body trembling with anticipation as his fingers find their way between her thighs, teasing her over the thin fabric of her panties.

He’s relentless, his touch both gentle and commanding, his fingers sliding against her, feeling how wet she is for him. “Fuck, you’re soaked” he groans, his lips returning to hers in a bruising kiss. He pushes her panties aside, his fingers slipping between her folds, finding her clit with practiced ease.

She gasps, her hips bucking against his hand, a desperate moan escaping her lips. He chuckles darkly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, teasing her, driving her wild. “You like that, don’t you?” he purrs, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“Yes” she breathes, her body arching into his touch, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “Please, Aemond… I need you…”

His eye darkens with lust, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Patience, love” he murmurs, his fingers slipping inside her, curling up to hit that sweet spot that makes her cry out in pleasure. “I’m going to make you feel so good… just relax and let me take care of you.”

She does as he says, her body surrendering to his touch, her mind lost in a haze of desire. His fingers work her expertly, building her up, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She feels the tension coiling in her belly, the heat building, her breath coming in ragged gasps as he takes her higher, higher…

And then she’s falling, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her body shaking with pleasure, her moans filling the small room. Aemond doesn’t stop, his fingers still moving inside her, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until she’s completely spent, her body trembling against him.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, bringing them to his lips, his gaze locked on hers as he licks them clean, a satisfied grin on his face. “You taste so fucking sweet” he growls, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips.

She leans into his touch, her breath still coming in shallow pants, her body still tingling from the intensity of her orgasm. “Aemond…” she whispers, her voice barely a breath, filled with longing.

He captures her lips in another searing kiss, his hand sliding up her thigh, pulling her closer. “Don’t worry, love” he murmurs against her mouth, his lips curving into a devilish smile. “We’re just getting started.”

And she knows, without a doubt, that she’s in for the ride of her life.

Aemond slides off her leather boots, starts a trail of kisses from her ankle to her knee, she arches her back and brings her hand to the zipper of her leather miniskirt. "Good girl" he praises her, she lifts her hips and slides the skirt down her legs. Aemond kisses her thighs, her skin so smooth and smelling of a strong woman's perfume maybe she's wearing "Poison" by Dior.

She gasps, his lips are so fucking devilish.

Aemond sits back down on the couch, she positions herself on his hips and starts to move slowly over the bulge in his pants. "If I'm a good girl, what are you?" she teases, then she reaches behind his bustier and pulls down the zipper. "My devil?" she throws her top on the floor, she's not wearing a bra. Aemond looks at her firm, round and full tits. She has a fucking piercing in her right nipple. "Is there something you like rockstar?"

She is only wearing her lace thong, he is still dressed. She notices the bulge in his pants and places her wetness right on top of it. She moves slowly and calculatedly, he is hard as a rock. Her breathing is heavy like an animal, her fingers dig into the couch cushion and he can feel her juices wetting the fly of his jeans.

"Mmmh" she moans rubbing herself on his covered cock. "Do you prefer my hands or my mouth on your cock?" she asks shamelessly. She moves her hands to his t-shirt and pulls it off revealing his toned and lean chest covered in a few black tattoos. Aemond is speechless, what seemed like such a good girl has actually turned out to be the devil.

"On your knees" he orders with heavy breathing. "Are you sure?" she asks. "I'm still wet thanks to you and your magic fingers" she whispers in his ear, kissing him just below. "But if you really want me to I'll kneel for you, rockstar"

She kneels between his legs, licks her lips and begins to undo his belt. She notices with pleasure that the fly of his pants is wet thanks to her, Aemond's erection is hard and aching. He raises his hips and allows her to pull down his jeans and boxers, revealing his big, hard, long cock, wet to the tip with pre-cum.

"Do girls who listen to your music turn you on that much?" she teases him looking at him. "Only if they are as evil as you" a smirk forms on her face. "Am I evil?" she murmurs taking his cock in her hands. "You don't know how much" she lowers her gaze and without shame she spits on his cock, lowers her head and licks it on his shaft. Aemond closes his eyes, barely feeling her lips around his cock. She takes it in her mouth, starts sucking it so hard that her cheeks go hollow, and keeps sucking it so hard that it touches the back of her throat.

That's probably the best blowjob of his life.

She sucks him devilishly and in the meantime she gets wet between her legs, the sensation of having to touch herself is too much. Aemond in her mouth is wonderful, he pants and moans, she is clearly sucking his soul out. "Good… good fucking girl" he whispers feeling close. He would like to come between those lips of hers, but at the same time dirty her with him. Aemond although immersed in pleasure, notices that she has a hand buried between her thighs and is torturing her clit.

She continues to suck, but he grabs her hair without hurting her and makes her look up. "You're touching yourself, aren't you, little brat?" Her eyes light up, her lips lick the tip of him and then up. "Do you think that your huge cock can fit in me?" she asks playfully, but Aemond grabs her and pins her to the couch. "Do you enjoy it?" he teases. "I used to enjoy sucking your cock, rockstar," he murmurs, his hands moving to the waistband of her thong. "But if I'm honest, I'd rather have your tongue between my thighs."

Aemond is aroused by the way she speaks: vulgar and direct, but sensual and provocative. He kneels in front of her, pulls off her soaking thong and spreads her legs, bringing them up to his shoulders. She arches her back, feels his fingers part her wet folds and shortly after his long tongue lick her slit. A pornographic moan escapes her lips, she starts playing with her nipple piercing while Aemond licks her between her thighs and goes deep with his tongue. His nose rubs against her clit, she moans, she is a mess of moans and sweat, her black makeup is running a little and she is so eager to be fucked by him.

"Aemond" she moans his name when she feels his tongue touching places where not even her fingers have ever reached. “Aemond” she repeats his name again, he grabs her by the thighs and luxuriates in that sweet, sticky taste, god, he can't wait to see her on top of him riding him.

Aemond adds his fingers, the pleasure is so much that she feels dizzy. His tongue, his fingers, her clit tortured repeatedly. Fuck, she feels so close to coming, but soon a strange feeling forms in her belly… it's strong, Aemond's movements are insistent, full of pleasure, her back arches, his face is buried in her things and soon she comes, but not like she has ever done before.

He pushes her higher and higher, pushes her closer and closer to the edge. She screams, her body contracting as her pussy squirts, the intense pleasure overwhelming her. She gasps, her body slick with sweat, her mind foggy with bliss. When she opens her eyes again, Aemond has two fingers between her lips.

"You're a devil, fuck the good girl" only she notices that he is wet from her face and chest. "You need to be fucked, huh?" he stands up, removes the last of her clothes from her body, leans down to kiss her in a dirty wet kiss with his tongue, she can taste him and then and Aemond sits on the couch. He grabs her by the hips and brings her on top of him.

"Mmmm, you like it don't you? Watching me take your cock" she whispers raising her hips and then slowly, she lets herself go down on him filling herself. "Fuck" she whispers feeling full. "You're so big" their hands intertwine, she knows how to do it: she moves, takes him, rides him. Her hands move to his chest, she scratches him, she grabs his hair to bring him closer to her lips and kisses him.

Aemond moans her name, he brings his hands to her breasts and between his lips he sucks her pierced nipple. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" he whispers feeling her pussy squeezing him deeper and deeper. She rides him, moving her hips, her pussy is hot, wet, tight. He wants to die in her.

"Look at me rockstar" she grabs his face and kisses him again, their kiss is a mess of tongue and saliva. "Ah" she moans feeling his cock hard almost all the way to her stomach. "Fuck, fuck" she pants, her nails digging into his back.

"My good boy" she pushes him against the sofa cushions, Aemond looks at her excitedly, fuck, this is so exciting. She rides him, her pussy buries his cock, her breasts move frantically, her skin is sweaty. She moans, he circles her hips with his hands and she comes around him again swallowing him.

Aemond is lost in pleasure, but he knows he can't come inside her. Reluctantly she realizes this and rises from his hips, looks at him and soon spits on his cock. She wraps her hand around him and lowers her head. She brings him between her lips and sucks him, over and over until he comes. Like a perfect bad good girl she swallows his seed and licks her lips. Aemond is breathless, she still naked grabs his pack of cigarettes from the table. "A cig?" she asks, placing a cigarette between her lipstick-smudged lips. "Y-yes" he murmurs with ragged breaths. She takes a drag, then passes him the cigarette.

"Listen Aemond…" she begins. "You're a rock band, do you have any groupies?" Aemond is confused and barely understands her words. "My…mates" she whispers, smoking, resting her head on the pillow. She moves closer to him, climbing into his arms. Skin against skin, it feels wonderful. Aemond puts an arm around her waist.

"What about you? Are you fucking them?" she asks boldly. "No," he replies. "It's the first rule of the group: each of us has his own"

"Great" she replies. "Because I just became yours" she gets up from his lap, shamelessly grabs her loincloth from the floor and puts it on. She turns to Aemond dressed only in it, her long curly hair making her beautiful and dangerous. "I'm bored here, I have no friends and I can play the guitar."

She grabs Aemond's shirt and puts it on, he puts a pillow on his hips covering his cock. "Do you play metal too?" she asks. "Do you like Black Sabbath?" Aemond asks. "Why do you ask?" she comes closer to him, sitting on the coffee table. "Before when you turned around… your tattoo on the small of your back" he replies. "The Paranoid tattoo, yeah..." she replies. "I would say so" Aemond comments. "Don't make fun of me, just because a song is famous doesn't mean it's bad" he takes the cigarette from his lips again.

"You are interesting" he admits honestly. "And that's why I noticed you" She raises an eyebrow. "Honored" she takes a drag of her cigarette. "And tell me rockstar, where is the next stop on the tour?" he asks. "The Riverlands" Aemond replies. She gets up from the coffee table. "Fuck yeah, that fucking bitch Alys Rivers is going to die of rage when she sees me" Aemond stops, fuck Alys was his ex-girlfriend. "She's a bitch, in high school she was a senior and she took it out on us freshmen" she replies.

"Do you know her?" he asks. "A bitch like that everyone knows" he looks at her. "What is it?" she asks. "She was my ex" Aemond admits. "But now you have me and fuck her" she whispers. "I'm beautiful, sexy, smart" her lips brush his. "And now the groupie of the most famous rock star in the world"

Aemond grabs her face with one hand. "Do you only care about my fame?" he asks, she denies. "If I only cared about your fame after I fucked you I would have left" she bites his lower lip. "I needed this, someone who understood my madness" she licks his lip.

"Fuck the rest, rockstar" she removes the pillow from above his hips. "Let's do another round" she kneels on him, moves her panties to the side and lets herself go on his cock, her hand tightens around Aemond's neck.

"A groupie love" she murmurs starting to move, kissing him passionately. "Strong, true and only yours" Aemond holds her in his arms.

"Only mine" Aemond let her consuming her.

That girl is the fucking demon he was looking for.

[goddessofvalyria]

Mr. & Mrs. Targaryen pt.4 | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!oc

Summary: Aemond Targaryen is the CEO of the family business, the Targaryen Company and is part of the élite of the King's Landing Society. Daelia Targaryen is the rebellious daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra. They meet at a gala, unaware of how that meeting will change things forever...

TW for all the story: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Daelia Targaryen with long dyed black hair and purple eyes, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (m and f) tits sucking/play, SMUT, sexual tension, sex, violence, guns, alcohol, drugs, angst, sad, death, murder, dark themes, Targcest (he is the uncle and she is the niece, they're Targaryen....) This is a modern Aemond in modern AU.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

Words: 2260

Previous part: Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Daelia Targaryen knows exactly what she needs to do.

The moment she left Aemond’s apartment, determination set her jaw tight, and a cold, dangerous glint sparked in her eyes. The knowledge that Floris Baratheon still stands between her and Aemond eats at her like a poison, twisting in her gut with every passing second. If Aemond won’t handle it, she will. There’s no room for anyone else in his life but her.

She get up on her black Maserati to Storm’s End, arriving swiftly and with purpose. The wind whips around her as she steps out, she doesn’t bother with pleasantries or permission; she’s a Targaryen, and her name alone grants her entrance. She strides through the cold, stone halls of the Baratheon estate with a confidence that borders on arrogance, her heels clicking against the flagstone floors with each purposeful step.

She finds Floris in a secluded courtyard, surrounded by roses that pale in comparison to Daelia’s own burning beauty. Floris looks up from where she’s been reading, her serene expression faltering at the sight of Daelia standing there, her presence a stark contrast to the calm surroundings.

“Daelia?” Floris’s voice is soft, confused, but there’s a flicker of fear in her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Daelia smirks, her lips curling into a mocking smile as she takes a step closer. “I’m here to see you, of course” she replies, her tone saccharine sweet, dripping with false politeness. “I thought we should have a little chat. About Aemond.”

Floris’s face pales slightly, her grip tightening on the book in her hands. “Aemond? What about him?”

“What about him?” Daelia repeats with a mocking laugh. She steps closer, her eyes narrowing with contempt. “You know, Floris, I almost feel sorry for you. Sitting here in your little fantasy, thinking you actually stand a chance with him.”

Floris stands, her posture defensive. “We’re engaged” she says, her voice wavering slightly. “He’s promised to me, Daelia. Whatever you think is going on, he’s still mine.”

Daelia’s laughter is sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. “Oh, you poor, naive girl. He was never yours to begin with.” She steps closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. “Aemond doesn’t want you, Floris. He never did. He’s mine. He always has been, and he always will be.”

Tears well up in Floris’s eyes, but she stands her ground, her chin trembling with the effort. “No” she whispers, her voice breaking. “You’re lying. He would have told me if that were true.”

Daelia’s smile is cruel, predatory. “Believe what you want, but Aemond and I… we’re one. We’re going to be together, no matter what. And there’s nothing you or your pathetic family can do about it.”

Floris’s face crumples, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please” she begs, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, don’t do this. I love him.”

Daelia’s expression hardens, her patience wearing thin. “Love?” she scoffs, her voice icy. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. But you will, soon enough.”

In one swift motion, Daelia reaches into her coat, pulling out a sleek, silver pistol. The suddenness of the action makes Floris gasp, her eyes widening in terror. “Daelia, no—”

But Daelia’s finger tightens on the trigger without hesitation, her expression cold, detached. The gunshot echoes through the courtyard, the sound reverberating off the stone walls. Floris’s body crumples to the ground, lifeless, a crimson stain spreading across her pale blue dress.

Daelia doesn’t flinch. She simply stares down at the body, her expression impassive, almost bored. “Goodbye, Floris and fuck your stupid love” she mutters, turning on her heel and walking away without a second glance.

She knows what she’s done, and she feels no remorse. She’s done it for Aemond, for them. Nothing and no one will stand in their way now.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚✩༊* 

Back in King’s Landing, Aemond paces his apartment, unease twisting in his gut. Something about the way Daelia left this morning has left him on edge. There was a look in her eyes—a strange, almost feral determination that he couldn’t quite place. His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of his phone, and he answers it, his heart already sinking with a sense of foreboding.

The voice on the other end is Lord Borros Baratheon, and Aemond’s blood runs cold at his words. “She’s dead” Borros says, his voice choked with a mixture of grief and fury. “My daughter, Floris… someone murdered her... and... and the security cameras were not active today, there was an electrical failure due to a storm.”

Aemond closes his eyes, a strange mix of emotions swirling within him. He knows who did it; there’s no doubt in his mind. Daelia, his niece. She killed Floris, and he can’t help the surge of twisted pride that wells up in him. She did it for him, for their love.

Feigning regret, he responds, his voice carefully measured. “I’m so sorry, Lord Borros. I… I don’t know what to say. This is a terrible loss.”

"I understand Mr. Targaryen. My other daughters are married, so… I think our arrangements end there." Lord Borros says, Aemond smirks. "Alright, condolences for Floris."

He hangs up, his face calm, but his mind is already racing ahead, thinking of what he needs to do next.

He heads to the jewelry store, his decision already made. He scans the display cases, his eyes landing on a ring that seems to call out to him—a white gold band with a sapphire and diamonds. It’s perfect, a reflection of their unbreakable bond. He buys it without hesitation, knowing that tonight, they will seal their fate.

Later that evening, under the cover of darkness, they meet in his car. Aemond had told her to get dressed up for dinner, Daelia returned to her house as if nothing had happened and gets into the car wearing a long black dress and a pair of Louboutin, she smells expensive and her lips are red.

Daelia’s eyes are alight with triumph, a dangerous gleam that only makes Aemond’s heart race faster.

"I know what you did" Aemond speaks for first. "I did it for love, uncle." she looks at him. "Nobody knows. I did it all by myself and I was so discrete and fast. She's gone,"

"I'm sorry if I told you that we were going on a restaurant, but..."

He takes her hand, slipping the ring onto her finger, the sapphire gleaming in the moonlight.

“We’ll marry tonight” he whispers, his voice filled with conviction. “In secret. Just you and me. No one else matters.”

Daelia smiles, her expression fierce and victorious. “I knew you’d understand, my love” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss him, her lips brushing against his in a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Now that we’re one, no one can tear us apart.”

Aemond pulls her closer, his lips claiming hers with a hunger that matches her own. “No one” he agrees softly, the words a vow, a promise of what’s to come. "You little insane girl."

"Mmh, don't talks to me like this uncle. You makes me so damn horny" and Aemond cannot think of how after their marriage he will fucks her in his bed, knowing that she is his.

Together, they know they are dangerous, a force to be reckoned with. But they are also destined, bound by something far stronger than any family feud or societal expectation. And tonight, they will make that bond unbreakable, sealing it with a kiss and a vow, forever united in their shared darkness.

The secret ceremony is over quickly in Baelor's Temple, the vows exchanged in hushed whispers beneath the cover of darkness. There are no witnesses save for the stars above and the wind that rustles the leaves. Aemond and Daelia stand close, their hands intertwined, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. The weight of what they’ve just done hangs heavy in the air between them, but it is not a burden. It is a release. A promise. A sealing of their fate.

Aemond’s eyes never leave Daelia’s as he slips the white gold ring with the sapphire and diamonds onto her finger, the gem catching the moonlight and glowing like a secret only they share. Daelia gazes up at him, her violet eyes burning with a fire that mirrors his own.

They are one now. Husband and wife. Bound together by blood and passion, by danger and desire.

Without a word, Aemond leads her away from the temple, his grip firm and possessive. They make their way back to his apartment in Targaryen Tower, the city of King’s Landing a blur around them. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, but one thing is clear: Daelia is his now, completely and utterly his. And he will never let her go.

Once inside the apartment, the door barely closes behind them before Aemond has Daelia pressed up against it, his lips crashing down onto hers with a ferocity that steals her breath away. She moans into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on.

“Aemond, uncle” she gasps between kisses, her voice breathy and filled with need. But he doesn’t give her a chance to say more. He kisses her harder, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him. The intensity between them is electric, a raw, primal hunger that threatens to consume them both.

He lifts her effortlessly, carrying her to the bedroom, their lips never parting. He lays her down on the bed with a roughness that sends a thrill through her, his body hovering over hers, his eyes dark with desire.

“You’re mine now” he growls, his voice low and commanding. “All mine, Mrs. Targaryen”

Daelia’s heart races, her body arching up to meet his, craving the heat of his touch. “Yes” she breathes, her voice a sultry whisper. “Yours. Only yours Mr. Targaryen”

Aemond’s hands move to the fabric of her dress, tearing it away with a swift, decisive motion, leaving her bare before him. His eyes roam over her body, taking in every curve, every inch of skin, a possessive hunger burning in his gaze.

“You’ve always been mine” he murmurs, his lips trailing down her neck, his hands exploring her body with a rough, possessive touch. “But now… now you’re mine in every way.”

His words send a shiver down her spine, her breath hitching in her throat as he continues his descent, his lips and teeth grazing her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She can feel his need, his desperation, matching her own, and it only makes her want him more.

Aemond moves over her, positioning himself between her thighs, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that takes her breath away. “I’m going to make you mine again, Daelia” he whispers, his voice dark and dangerous. “In every way.”

She moans in response, her body trembling with anticipation, her hips bucking up to meet his. “Do it” she whispers, her voice breathless, a challenge in her eyes. “Make me yours for all the rest of our lives”

"Take me raw uncle, no condom."

With a growl of desire, Aemond thrusts into her, hard and deep, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He doesn’t hold back, his movements rough and demanding, his hands gripping her hips with a bruising force. Each thrust is a claim, a mark of possession, and Daelia meets him with equal fervor, her nails digging into his back, urging him on.

Their sex is raw and untamed, a clash of bodies and wills, a battle of dominance and submission. Aemond’s lips find hers again, their kiss wild and desperate, their breaths mingling, their moans filling the room.

He moves faster, harder, his hand moving down to grip her thigh, pulling her leg up around his waist to deepen the angle, to feel her more fully. She cries out his name, her voice a mix of pleasure and need, her body arching beneath him as she feels herself nearing the edge.

“Aemond" she gasps, her fingers clutching at his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin. “Please…”

He smirks down at her, his thrusts never faltering. “I want you pregnant, Daelia” he teases, his voice a low, seductive growl. “Carrying my child. Bearing my heirs. I want everyone to know you’re mine in every way.”

The words send a shockwave of desire through her, her body responding with a desperate need that borders on pain. “Yes” she moans, her voice raw with emotion. “Yes, Aemond… yours.”

With a final, powerful thrust, they both reach their climax, their bodies trembling, their breaths mingling in a shared, ragged gasp. Aemond holds her tight, his lips finding hers in a searing, passionate kiss that seals their fate, their bond unbreakable.

As they collapse onto the bed, their bodies entwined, their breaths heavy and sated, Aemond pulls her close, his hand resting possessively on her still-flat stomach.

“Mine” he whispers again, his voice filled with a dark, possessive pride.

Daelia smiles, a satisfied, wicked smile, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “Yours” she agrees, her voice a soft purr.

“Now and always, husband or I should say Mr. Targaryen?”

And as they lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, they know that no one—not their families, not their enemies, not anyone—will ever be able to tear them apart.

They are one, united by love and darkness, bound by a shared desire that burns hotter than any flame.

[goddessofvalyria]

BAD BOYS | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader x Modern!Aegon Targaryen

Summary: Aemond and Aegon Targaryen are the bad boy of the campus and they absolutely are the kings of every party. One night, they find the good girl of the college and they decide to have a little fun with her.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT, She/Her pronouns, virginity loss, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, sexual tension, sex, threesome. In this Au Aemond doesn't have his disability.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 6K

Aemond Targaryen is the notorious bad boy of the college campus, a title he shares with his older brother, Aegon. With their striking platinum blonde hair, piercing violet eyes, and the reputation of being a double menace, the Targaryen brothers are known by everyone, admired by many, and feared by some. Tonight, like most nights, they find themselves at the most infamous brotherhood house on campus—the epicenter of their escapades.

Inside, the house is alive with the thumping beat of music, the smell of alcohol, and the heat of too many bodies packed together. Aemond leans casually against a wall, his eyes scanning the room only adds to his dangerous allure. Aegon, meanwhile, is already in the thick of things, flirting with two girls who giggle at his every word.

That’s when they see her.

She stands near the kitchen, sipping from a cup, clearly out of place. She’s a good girl, everyone knows that—keeps her head down, aces all her classes, never seen at parties. Her long hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders, her dress is made of black lace and satin, but there's something about the way she bites her lip, the way her eyes flicker with curiosity as she watches the chaos unfold, that catches Aemond's attention.

Aegon notices his brother’s gaze and follows it, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Interesting choice, brothe,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “You think she’s up for a little fun?”

Aemond smirks. “Only one way to find out.”

They make their way toward her, weaving through the crowd with a predatory grace. She doesn’t notice them at first, lost in thought as she stares at the scene before her. But then Aegon speaks, his voice smooth and inviting. “What’s a good girl like you doing in a place like this?”

She startles, almost spilling her drink, and looks up at them with wide eyes. “I—I’m here with a friend” she stammers, glancing around, but it’s clear her friend has long since disappeared into the crowd.

Aemond steps closer, his gaze intense, locking onto hers. “And yet, you’re standing here all alone” he observes. “Did you want to be found?”

Her breath hitches at his words, and she looks between them, unsure of what to say. There’s something magnetic about the way they look at her, something that makes her heart race and her stomach twist with nerves. She knows who they are, knows their reputation. But there’s a thrill there, too—a dangerous curiosity.

Aegon senses her hesitation and leans in, his breath warm against her ear as he whispers. “You’ve been a good girl for so long. Don’t you ever want to be a little bad?”

The words send a shiver down her spine. She glances around the room again, as if expecting someone to come to her rescue, but no one pays them any mind. Her gaze returns to them, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire.

“I…I don’t know” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond reaches out, his fingers brushing against her arm. The touch is electric, sending a jolt through her body. “We can show you” he says softly. “If you want.”

There’s a moment of silence, a moment where she could still walk away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she nods, her decision made. They exchange a look of triumph before Aemond takes her hand, leading her through the crowd, with Aegon following closely behind.

They lead her upstairs, away from the noise, away from the prying eyes. The room they enter is dimly lit, a soft glow from a single lamp in the corner. It’s Aegon’s room—messy, with clothes strewn everywhere and an unmade bed that dominates the space.

Aemond closes the door behind them, the click of the lock loud in the quiet room. She stands there, unsure, her heart pounding in her chest. But there’s no turning back now. She wanted this. She wants this.

Aegon steps up behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, his lips brushing against her ear. “We’ll take care of you” he murmurs, his hands sliding down her arms, pulling her back against his chest. She gasps, the sound caught in her throat as Aemond approaches from the front, his hand reaching up to tilt her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of” Aemond tells her, his voice low and soothing. “We’ll be gentle… at first.”

Aegon chuckles softly behind her, his lips grazing her neck, making her shiver. “If you want us to stop, just say a word” he adds, his tone light but with a dark edge.

She nods, her voice lost somewhere between fear and excitement. She can feel Aegon’s hands moving lower, down to her waist, pulling her dress up inch by inch. Aemond’s hand on her chin moves down to the neckline of her dress, his fingers tracing the delicate fabric before he slips them underneath, brushing against her skin.

The room feels too hot, the air too thick. She feels Aegon’s lips on her neck, sucking gently, while Aemond’s mouth finds hers, capturing her lips in a soft, exploratory kiss. It’s gentle at first, but soon it deepens, becoming more urgent, more demanding.

She moans into his mouth as Aegon’s hands slide up her thighs, his fingers slipping under the thin fabric of her panties. She feels his fingers stroke her gently, exploring her folds, and she can’t help the soft cry that escapes her lips. Aemond’s lips leave hers to trail kisses down her neck, his hands moving to unbutton her dress.

Her hands reach up, gripping Aegon’s arms, her nails digging into his skin as his fingers find her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. She’s overwhelmed, her senses overloaded with the feel of their hands on her, their lips against her skin, the sound of their breath hot and heavy in her ears.

Aemond pushes her dress down her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a soft heap. She’s standing there in just her panties, feeling exposed, vulnerable, but there’s no going back now. Aegon’s fingers slip inside her, and she gasps, her body arching back against him.

“Gods, you’re so tight” Aegon groans against her ear, his fingers moving inside her, curling just right. She can feel the heat building inside her, the pressure coiling tight in her belly.

Aemond steps back for a moment, watching them with a hungry gaze, his hand reaching down to undo his belt. “You like that, don’t you?” he asks, his voice rough. “Being between us… feeling both of us.”

She nods, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. “Yes” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Aemond smiles, a dark, satisfied grin, before he steps forward again, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her down onto the bed. Aegon moves with her, his fingers still buried deep inside her, not stopping for a moment. Aemond is quick to position himself between her legs, his mouth descending on her wetness, licking a long, slow line up her slit.

She cries out, her body trembling, her hands reaching out to grasp the sheets, her knuckles turning white. Aegon’s fingers work inside her, matching the rhythm of Aemond’s tongue, and it’s too much, the pleasure too intense. She can feel herself on the edge, the tension building and building until it finally snaps, sending her over the edge.

She comes with a cry, her body convulsing, her hips bucking up against Aemond’s mouth. He doesn’t stop, his tongue lapping up every drop of her release while Aegon continues to pump his fingers inside her, prolonging her orgasm until she’s a trembling, boneless mess.

When she finally comes down from the high, she’s breathing hard, her body limp against the bed. Aegon pulls his fingers out, licking them clean with a satisfied hum, while Aemond rises, his face glistening with her slick.

“That was just the beginning” Aegon whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. “We’re not done with you yet.”

She swallows hard, her body still trembling, her mind spinning with the promise of what’s to come. She’s crossed a line tonight, and there’s no going back. She’s in their world now, caught between the Targaryen brothers, and for the first time in her life, she doesn’t want to be good anymore. She wants to be theirs.

Her heart is still pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as Aegon’s words echo in her mind. "We’re not done with you yet." She knows there’s more to come, and the thought makes her pulse quicken with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Aemond wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a dark look of desire burning in his eye as he stares down at her. “Get on your knees” he commands softly, his voice rough with lust.

She hesitates for a moment, but the heat in his gaze and the memory of the pleasure they just gave her drives her to obey. She pushes herself up onto shaky arms and turns over, her hands and knees sinking into the soft mattress. Behind her, Aegon moves quickly, his hands gripping her hips as he positions himself behind her.

She feels Aegon’s hardness pressing against her entrance, and her breath catches in her throat. This is it. She’s never done this before—never been with anyone like this. The thought both excites and terrifies her, but there’s no turning back now. She wants this. She wants them.

Aemond moves in front of her, his fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “Are you ready?” he asks, his tone softer now, almost gentle.

She nods, biting her lip. “Yes” she whispers, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Aegon chuckles softly behind her, his breath warm against her skin. “Relax, sweet girl” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her hips. “We’ll take care of you.”

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She feels Aegon’s cock press against her entrance, the blunt tip teasing her, and then he pushes forward, slowly, carefully, breaching her inch by inch. The stretch is intense, a burning sensation that makes her wince, but he goes slow, giving her time to adjust.

Aemond watches her closely, his hand still in her hair, his thumb stroking her cheek. “That’s it” he whispers, his voice soothing. “Breathe through it.”

She does as he says, taking slow, deep breaths as Aegon fills her, stretching her in a way she’s never felt before. There’s a moment of discomfort, a sharp sting of pain as he pushes deeper, but it quickly fades, replaced by a feeling of fullness, of being completely and utterly claimed.

Aegon bottoms out with a low groan, his hands tightening on her hips. “Fuck, you’re so tight” he breathes, his voice rough with restraint. “You feel so good.”

She whimpers, her hands clutching the sheets, her body trembling as she adjusts to the feel of him inside her. Aemond leans down, his lips capturing hers in a deep, possessive kiss, distracting her from the discomfort with the stroke of his tongue, the taste of him overwhelming her senses.

Aegon starts to move, slowly at first, rocking his hips back and forth, each thrust pushing deeper, rubbing against a spot inside her that makes her gasp into Aemond’s mouth. The pain is gone now, replaced by a growing pleasure, a heat that spreads through her veins, igniting her blood.

Aemond breaks the kiss, his breath hot against her lips as he murmurs. “Good girl. You’re taking him so well.”

She moans softly at his words, the praise making her clench around Aegon’s cock, drawing a groan from his lips. He picks up the pace, thrusting harder now, each stroke driving deeper, pushing her closer to the edge.

Aemond moves away for a moment, and she hears the rustle of fabric as he sheds his clothes. He’s back in front of her in an instant, his cock hard and heavy in his hand. He strokes himself slowly, his gaze locked on her face, watching every expression, every gasp and moan that escapes her lips.

“Open your mouth” he orders, his voice low and commanding.

She obeys without hesitation, her lips parting, and he guides his cock to her mouth, sliding it over her tongue. He’s big, and the taste of him is musky, intoxicating. She closes her lips around him, sucking gently, her tongue swirling around the tip.

Aemond groans, his hand tightening in her hair, guiding her head as he slowly thrusts into her mouth, matching the rhythm of Aegon’s thrusts behind her. She’s caught between them, filled from both ends, the pleasure building and building, driving her closer to the brink.

Aegon’s thrusts become harder, more urgent, his grip on her hips bruising. “Gods, you’re perfect” he growls, his voice tight with need. “So fucking perfect.”

Aemond’s thrusts are slow and controlled, each one pushing deeper, filling her mouth, making her throat tighten around him. “Such a good girl” he murmurs, his tone laced with praise and lust. “Taking us both like this. I knew you’d be perfect for us.”

The praise sends a jolt of pleasure straight to her core, making her clench around Aegon’s cock, drawing a strangled groan from his lips. He slams into her harder, his pace frantic now, and she knows he’s close.

The room is filled with the sounds of their bodies moving together, the slap of skin against skin, the wet sounds of her sucking Aemond’s cock, the low, desperate moans and grunts of pleasure. She can feel the pressure building inside her, the coil tightening in her belly, threatening to snap at any moment.

Aegon’s thrusts become erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’m gonna come” he warns, his voice strained. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Aemond’s grip on her hair tightens, his cock throbbing in her mouth. “Come with us” he orders, his voice low and commanding. “Let go, sweet girl. Come for us.”

That’s all it takes. The coil snaps, and she’s falling, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her body trembling, her walls clenching tight around Aegon’s cock. She moans around Aemond’s cock, the sound vibrating through him, and he lets out a low groan, thrusting deeper, holding her head still as he comes, his release spilling down her throat.

Aegon isn’t far behind, his hips jerking as he finds his release, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her with his warmth. She feels him throb, his cum spilling deep inside her, and it sends another wave of pleasure through her, making her tremble.

They stay like that for a moment, all of them breathing hard, their bodies slick with sweat, tangled together in a mess of limbs and heat. Slowly, Aegon pulls out, his cock slipping free, leaving her feeling empty, spent.

Aemond releases her hair, pulling out of her mouth, his cock softening. He strokes her cheek with his thumb, a satisfied smile on his lips. “You did so well” he praises, his tone soft, almost affectionate.

She collapses onto the bed, her body exhausted, her mind spinning with everything that just happened. She’s just lost her virginity to both of them, been utterly claimed, and she knows she should feel something—regret, shame, something. But all she feels is a deep, bone-deep satisfaction, a contentment that settles over her like a warm blanket.

Aegon lies down beside her, pulling her close against his chest, his lips brushing her temple. “You’re ours now,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm. “Ours.”

Aemond lies down on her other side, his arm draped over her waist, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Ours” he echoes, his tone just as possessive.

She knows she should feel overwhelmed, maybe even scared, but she doesn’t. She feels safe, secure, like she belongs here, between them. She closes her eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips as she lets herself relax, lets herself be theirs.

Tonight, she gave herself to them, and she doesn’t regret a single moment.

The days after that night feel like a blur.

She tries to focus on her studies, tries to keep her head down like she always has, but she can’t stop thinking about the Targaryen brothers. Her body still hums with the memory of their touch, the taste of their skin still lingering on her lips. She’s replayed that night over and over in her mind, each time her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. She wonders if they think about it, too.

Aegon, apparently, does not. She sees him a few times around campus, always with a new girl on his arm, always with that same cocky grin on his face. He doesn’t even acknowledge her when they pass each other in the quad, his attention already focused on his next conquest. It stings a little, the way he brushes her off so easily, but she knew what she was getting into. Aegon is Aegon. She wasn’t expecting anything more.

But Aemond… Aemond is different.

She catches glimpses of him in the library, in the dining hall, his intense gaze always seeming to find hers across the room. There’s something there, something lingering in the way he looks at her. She feels it, too, a pull she can’t quite explain. He doesn’t approach her, doesn’t speak to her, but she knows he’s watching, waiting.

It’s a Friday night when she finally sees him again. She’s in her dorm room, curled up on her bed with a book, trying to distract herself from the noise of the party raging in the common room down the hall. Her roommate is there, too, laughing loudly with a few friends, the sound of music and chatter bleeding through the thin walls. She tries to focus on the words in front of her, but her mind keeps drifting, her thoughts wandering back to him.

And then, there’s a knock on her door.

She hesitates for a moment, glancing at the clock. It’s late, almost midnight. She wonders who it could be, maybe her roommate’s friends needing something, but when she opens the door, her breath catches in her throat. It’s Aemond.

He’s standing there, looking as effortlessly handsome as ever, his silver hair falling into his eyes, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. He looks different tonight—less composed, more raw. His gaze is intense, his eye fixed on hers, and she feels that familiar heat rise in her cheeks.

“Aemond...” she breathes, her voice barely audible over the noise from the hallway. “What are you doing here?”

He steps closer, into her room, closing the door behind him. “I didn’t feel like going to the party” he says simply, his voice low and steady. “Thought I’d come see you instead.”

She swallows hard, her heart racing in her chest. “Why?” she asks, genuinely curious. “Aren’t there a hundred other girls who’d want your attention?”

He smirks, his lips curling up at the corners. “Probably” he admits. “But I’m not interested in them.”

There’s a charged silence between them, the air thick with tension. She feels a shiver run down her spine, her body reacting to the look in his eyes, the way he’s watching her like he wants to devour her.

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. “Are you going to invite me in?” he asks, his voice a low, seductive purr.

She nods, stepping back to let him in. He moves past her, his presence filling the small room, making it feel even smaller. She closes the door behind them, the sound of the party muffling to a dull roar outside.

He’s on her in an instant, his lips crashing down on hers, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her against him. She melts into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. He kisses her like he’s been starving for her, like he’s been waiting for this moment since the last time they were together.

He pushes her back towards the bed, his hands roaming over her body, pulling her close, his lips never leaving hers. She falls back onto the mattress, pulling him down on top of her, her legs parting to make room for him between them.

He pulls back for a moment, his gaze dark and hungry as he looks down at her. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you” he admits, his voice rough. “About how you felt… how you tasted.”

She shivers at his words, a moan slipping from her lips. “Me too” she confesses, her voice breathless.

He grins, a wicked, knowing grin, before he kisses her again, his lips trailing down her neck, over her collarbone. He tugs at her shirt, pulling it over her head, his lips trailing down her chest, his hands working to unhook her bra.

She gasps as his mouth finds her nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, his teeth grazing it just enough to make her arch her back. His hands are everywhere—sliding up her sides, gripping her thighs, pulling her closer.

He moves lower, kissing down her stomach, his fingers hooking in the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down along with her panties.

He spreads her legs wider, his gaze fixed on her wetness, his mouth watering. “You’re already so wet for me” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “Do you know how crazy that drives me?”

She bites her lip, her breath hitching as he lowers his head, his tongue flicking out to taste her. She cries out, her hips bucking up off the bed, but he holds her down, his hands gripping her thighs, keeping her still as he licks and sucks, his tongue swirling around her clit, teasing her entrance.

He’s relentless, his mouth working her over, his tongue driving her wild. She feels the pleasure building, a slow burn that starts in her core and spreads through her entire body. She can’t think, can’t breathe, her mind a haze of pleasure and need.

He slides two fingers inside her, curling them just right, hitting that spot that makes her see stars. She cries out, her hands fisting in the sheets, her body trembling with need. He works his fingers in and out of her, his mouth still on her clit, sucking harder, licking faster.

She feels it building, that pressure inside her, coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap. “Aemond” she gasps, her voice a desperate plea. “I’m— I’m gonna—”

“Come for me” he growls against her skin, his fingers curling inside her, his tongue flicking her clit. “Come on, I want to feel you come.”

That’s all it takes. The coil snaps, and she’s falling, her orgasm crashing over her in a wave of pure, blinding pleasure. She screams, her body convulsing, her walls clenching tight around his fingers. She feels something release inside her, a gush of liquid soaking the sheets beneath her, and she realizes with a shock that she’s squirting.

He groans against her, his fingers working her through it, his mouth never leaving her clit, licking up every drop of her release. He pulls back after a moment, his chin glistening with her wetness, a satisfied grin on his lips.

“Fuck” she breathes, her body still trembling, her mind spinning. “I’ve never… I didn’t know I could…”

He chuckles, his gaze softening as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “There’s a lot you don’t know about yourself” he says softly, his hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. “But I’d like to find out.”

She smiles up at him, her heart swelling in her chest.

"Stay with me" she whispers. "I want you. Just you."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His mouth crashes down on hers, the kiss hungry and desperate, his hands roaming over her body, pulling her close. She melts against him, her hands finding his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin as she kisses him back with equal fervor.

Aemond’s hands are everywhere—sliding under her shirt, gripping her waist, then moving to cup her breasts through her bra. He pushes her back towards the bed again, and she falls onto it with a soft gasp, pulling him down with her. His lips leave hers, trailing down her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there, leaving marks that she knows will be there tomorrow.

He yanks her shirt off, tossing it aside, and then his hands are on her bra, unclasping it with a deftness that makes her head spin. He pulls it off her, his lips immediately closing around one of her nipples, sucking and biting, his other hand pinching and rolling the other. She cries out, arching her back, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"Aemond" she gasps, her body on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. "Please..."

He pulls back, his lips leaving her skin, his eye dark with desire as he looks down at her. "Please what?" he taunts, his voice a low growl.

"Please” she repeats, her voice desperate. "I need you."

Aemond grins, a wicked, knowing grin, before his hands move down to her shorts and pulling them down her legs, leaving her in just her panties. He slides them down too, tossing them aside, leaving her completely bare before him.

He looks at her for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her body, taking in every curve, every inch of her exposed skin. She feels her cheeks flush under his scrutiny, but the way he’s looking at her makes her feel powerful, makes her feel wanted.

“You’re beautiful” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost reverent. He leans down, his lips trailing kisses down her stomach, his hands spreading her thighs apart. She shivers, her breath hitching in her throat as she feels his hot breath against her core.

He doesn’t waste any time. His tongue flicks out, teasing her clit, and she cries out, her hips bucking up off the bed. He holds her down, his fingers digging into her thighs, keeping her in place as he devours her, his tongue swirling around her clit, then dipping lower to tease her entrance.

She’s already so sensitive from their earlier activities, and the feel of his mouth on her, the way he’s licking and sucking, drives her wild. She can’t think, can’t breathe, her mind a haze of pleasure and need. She feels that familiar heat building in her core, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap.

“Aemond” she gasps, her voice a desperate plea. “I’m— I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me” he growls against her, his tongue flicking her clit harder, his fingers sliding inside her, curling just right, hitting that spot that makes her see stars. “I want to feel you come all over my tongue.”

That’s all it takes. The coil snaps, and she’s falling, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her body trembling, her walls clenching tight around his fingers. She feels herself squirt again, a gush of liquid soaking the sheets beneath her, and she hears Aemond groan in satisfaction, his tongue lapping up every drop of her release.

He doesn’t stop, his fingers still moving inside her, his mouth still on her clit, and she feels another orgasm building almost immediately, her body still sensitive, still on edge. She cries out, her hands fisting in the sheets, her body arching off the bed as another wave of pleasure crashes over her, her second orgasm even more intense than the first.

Aemond finally pulls back, his lips glistening with her wetness, a satisfied grin on his lips. He moves up her body, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer. “You taste so fucking good” he growls, his lips crashing down on hers, making her taste herself on his tongue.

She moans into his mouth, her hands sliding down to his jeans, fumbling with the button. She can feel his hardness pressing against her thigh, and she wants him, needs him inside her. “Please,” she whispers against his lips, her fingers finally undoing his jeans, pushing them down his hips. “I need you, Aemond. I need you inside me.”

He groans, his hand wrapping around his cock, guiding it to her entrance. He slides the tip over her clit, teasing her, making her squirm beneath him. “Beg for it” he orders, his voice a low growl.

“Please” she gasps, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. “Please Aemond, I need you. Fuck me, please.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. As he puts a condom, he thrusts into her, hard and deep, filling her completely. She cries out, her body arching off the bed, her nails raking down his back. He feels so good, so big, stretching her in a way that makes her toes curl, makes her mind go blank.

He sets a brutal pace, his hips slamming into hers, each thrust driving deeper, hitting that spot inside her that makes her see stars. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her hips meeting his with every thrust, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room.

Aemond grunts, his teeth gritted, his fingers digging into her hips. “You feel so fucking good” he groans, his voice strained with effort. “So fucking tight. Gods, I could fuck you forever.”

She moans in response, her body trembling, the pleasure building again, higher and higher, threatening to consume her. She can feel another orgasm building, her body on the brink, and she knows she’s not going to last much longer. “Aemond,” she gasps, her voice a desperate plea. “I’m—”

“Come for me” he orders, his thrusts becoming harder, more frantic. “Come all over my cock.”

That’s all it takes. She’s falling again, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing, her walls clenching tight around him. She screams his name, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes her.

Aemond groans, his hips jerking, his own release hitting him like a freight train. He thrusts into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he spills inside her, filling her with his warmth.

They stay like that for a moment, both of them breathing hard, their bodies slick with sweat, tangled together in a mess of limbs and heat. Slowly, Aemond pulls out, rolling onto his back beside her, his chest heaving with exertion.

She turns her head to look at him, a satisfied smile on her lips. “That was… incredible” she breathes, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He lies down beside her, pulling her close, their bodies tangled together in the soft sheets. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with a match. He takes a long drag, the smoke curling up around them, before passing it to her.

She takes it hesitantly, taking a small puff, coughing a little. He laughs softly, his hand stroking her hair, soothing her. “You’re not as much of a good girl as everyone thinks, are you?” he muses, his tone teasing.

She shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips. “I do what I have to” she admits. “For the scholarships, for the grades.I’m not as perfect as people think.”

He smiles, a genuine smile that reaches his eye, making him look almost boyish. “Good” he says softly. “I don’t want perfect. I want real.”

“Good” she asks. "And what about you?"

"About me?" he answers. "I'm quite good to all the subjects and I like metal and rock music"

She feels her heart flutter at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. She takes another drag of the cigarette, feeling the smoke fill her lungs, then lets it out in a slow, steady exhale. “The night is still young” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “Want to go for a ride?”

She grins, that wicked, dangerous grin that makes her heart race. “I’d love to.”

They get dressed quickly, laughter filling the small room as they stumble over each other, the high of their shared moment still buzzing in their veins.

They make their way outside, the cool night air hitting their skin, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

He leads her to his bike, a sleek, powerful machine that looks as dangerous as it does exciting. He swings his leg over it with practiced ease, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement, and holds out a hand to her. She takes it without hesitation, her heart racing with anticipation as she climbs on behind him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

Aemond revs the engine, the deep, throaty roar vibrating through them both, sending a thrill down her spine. She feels the bike rumble beneath her, powerful and alive, just like the man in front of her. She leans into his back, feeling the warmth of his body through his jacket, the scent of leather and smoke filling her senses.

“Hold on tight” he murmurs over his shoulder, a wicked grin on his lips.

And then they’re off, speeding down the dark, empty streets, the wind whipping through their hair. The world around them blurs as they race through the night, the lights of the campus fading into the distance. She feels a rush of adrenaline, a wild, exhilarating freedom she’s never felt before. She tightens her grip on Aemond, pressing closer, the thrill of the ride mixed with the intoxicating feeling of his body against hers.

They disappear into the darkness, leaving behind the noise and chaos of the campus, the cold night air biting at their skin. Aemond drives fast, weaving through the streets with a confidence that makes her feel safe, even as her heart pounds in her chest. She doesn’t know where they’re going, and she doesn’t care. She’s with him, and that’s all that matters.

They ride for what feels like hours, the city lights blurring into a distant glow behind them. Aemond takes them out to the open road, the dark highway stretching out before them, endless and inviting. She leans her head against his back, closing her eyes, losing herself in the moment, in the feeling of being free, of being alive.

Eventually, he slows down, pulling off onto a secluded overlook that offers a breathtaking view of the city below, twinkling like a sea of stars. He cuts the engine, and the sudden silence is almost deafening after the roar of the bike. She lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her heart still racing with the thrill of the ride.

Aemond turns to look at her, his eye searching hers, his expression soft in the moonlight. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low and rough, laced with concern.

She nods, a wide smile spreading across her face. “More than okay” she replies, her voice breathless with excitement. “That was… amazing.”

He smiles, a real, genuine smile that makes her heart skip a beat. “Good” he says softly, reaching out to brush a stray hair from her face. “I’m glad.”

They sit there for a moment, the city spread out before them, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. She feels a sense of peace settle over her, a contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time.

Aemond turns slightly, his hand still on her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. “You’re different” he murmurs, his gaze intense. “Not like the other girls and I know that you hate hearing that.”

She tilts her head, looking up at him with curiosity. “I'm different because I am myself and yes, I hate when you say that I'm different"

She feels her heart flutter at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. She leans in, pressing her lips to his, a soft, tender kiss. He kisses her back, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

They stay like that for a long moment, lost in each other, in the quiet of the night. When they finally pull back, their foreheads rest together, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

“I don’t want this to end” she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath.

He smiles, his hand tightening on her waist. “It doesn’t have to” he murmurs, his tone filled with promise.

She nods, her heart full, her body warm with the promise of what’s to come. They may have started as just a night of fun, but now, as they sit together under the stars, she knows that this is only the beginning.

[goddessofvalyria]

SKIN | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!oc

Summary: Aemond only wants to make her girl feels good.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT She/Her pronouns, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (f receiving) tits sucking/play, squirting, sex.

This is a modern Aemond in modern AU, inspired by Mac Miller's song "Skin." Much like the rest of the album, it revolves around Mac’s sexual and emotional relationships. The song is smooth and sexy, both lyrically and sonically and the jazzy and R&B feel is a departure from Mac’s usual style.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

Words: 3300

"You hide your skin like ya shy or did somethin' wrong You stylish when you got nothin' on"

— Skin, Mac Miller.

Aemond Targaryen's fingertips glide over her skin like he's tracing constellations, each touch deliberate, as if he's memorizing the map of her body. His room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows that dance across the walls, adding to the intimacy of the moment. The sultry notes of Mac Miller’s "Skin" play softly in the background, setting a slow, seductive rhythm that mirrors their movements.

He leans down, his breath warm against her ear. “I only want to make you feel good,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, each word like a promise. She shivers beneath him, her back arching in response to the sensation, pressing her body closer to his.

Her hands travel up his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. She tugs at it, a silent plea, and he obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. He grins down at her, his eye dark with desire, the scar across his face only adding to the intensity of his look. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his lips brushing hers as he speaks.

She pulls him into a kiss, deep and needy, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. Aemond groans into her, his hands sliding up her sides, under her shirt. His thumbs brush against her breasts, teasing her nipples through the lace of her bra, and she gasps into his mouth. He swallows her sounds, drinking them in like they’re the sweetest wine.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down her jaw, her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin. She tilts her head back, giving him more access, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “Aemond,” she breathes, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Please…”

He smirks against her throat, his fingers deftly unhooking her bra. “I’ve got you, baby,” he assures her, sliding the straps down her arms and tossing it aside. His mouth moves lower, capturing a nipple between his lips, sucking gently, his tongue swirling around the hardened bud. She moans, her hands tangling in his silver hair, pulling him closer.

Aemond’s free hand travels down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. His fingers find her wet and ready, and he groans against her skin. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he growls, his fingers teasing her clit in slow, deliberate circles. She cries out, her hips bucking against his hand, seeking more.

He chuckles, dark and throaty. “Patience, love,” he chides softly. “I want to savor you.” He slips a finger inside her, curling it just right, finding that spot that makes her see stars. She gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he adds another finger, pumping them slowly in and out, his thumb brushing against her clit with every stroke.

His lips never leave her skin, kissing down her neck, across her collarbone, and lower still, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She shivers beneath him, her breath hitching as his fingers slide between her legs, finding her slick and ready.

He teases her, his fingers brushing lightly against her clit, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He smirks at her reaction, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to make you feel good” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I want to see you come undone for me.”

Without waiting for a response, he slides agin two fingers inside her, curling them just right, hitting that spot that makes her cry out. His thumb presses against her clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles, building her pleasure. She grips his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, her hips bucking against his hand.

“Oh, Aemond” she gasps, her voice breathless, her head falling back against the pillows. He watches her, his gaze hungry, his fingers moving faster, thrusting in and out of her with a steady rhythm. She feels the tension building inside her, the coil tightening with every stroke, every flick of his thumb.

He leans in, his lips brushing against her ear. “Come for me,” he whispers, his breath hot against her skin. “I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

His words push her closer to the edge, her body trembling, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He keeps up the pressure, his fingers curling inside her, his thumb rubbing her clit in just the right way. She’s so close, teetering on the brink, her body tensing, her mind going blank with pleasure.

And then she’s there, the wave crashing over her, her body convulsing as she squirts soaking the sheets, the release so intense it takes her breath away. Aemond groans at the sight, his fingers never stopping, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from her. She’s shaking, her body spent, her heart racing. He cuts her off with a deep kiss, swallowing her moans as her orgasm crashes over her, her walls tightening around his fingers. He keeps moving, drawing out her pleasure, not stopping until she’s a shaking, breathless mess beneath him.

He pulls back, his lips swollen and slick from her kiss, his fingers glistening with her arousal. He brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan, his gaze locked on hers. “You taste so fucking good” he murmurs, and she feels a new wave of heat flood through her at his words, her body already aching for more.

He doesn’t make her wait long. He stands, shedding the rest of his clothes, and she can’t help but admire the sight of him—tall, lean, his body a masterpiece of strength and grace. He looks down at her with a predatory hunger that sends a thrill through her.

“Your turn” he says, his voice a low growl, and she doesn’t hesitate. She sits up naked, reaching for his hips, her mouth watering at the sight of his hard length. She licks her lips, her eyes meeting his as she takes him in her hand, stroking him slowly. He hisses, his head falling back, his fingers tangling in her hair as she leans in, her tongue flicking out to taste him.

She takes his fat cook into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks him in deep. Aemond groans, his grip tightening in her hair, his hips thrusting forward slightly. “Fuck, just like that,” he mutters, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re so good at this, baby.”

She hums around him, the vibrations making him curse under his breath. She works him with her mouth and hand, taking him deeper and deeper until he’s panting, his muscles tensing. He pulls her off of him suddenly, his eyes wild, his chest heaving. “If you keep going, I’m not gonna last” he admits, his voice strained.

She smiles, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “That’s the idea” she teases, but he shakes his head, pulling her up to her feet.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “I want to feel you.” He guides her back to the bed, laying her down gently. He positions himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips as he slides into her slowly, inch by inch, filling her completely.

They both moan at the sensation, the heat, the tightness. Aemond starts moving, his thrusts slow and deep, each one hitting that perfect spot inside her. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. “Aemond… please...” she begs, her nails digging into his back.

He grins down at her, his eye dark and hungry. “I’ve got you” he repeats, his thrusts speeding up, growing harder, more desperate. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

And he does.

He drives into her relentlessly, his pace punishing, his grip on her hips almost bruising. She’s a mess beneath him, writhing and crying out, her body taut with pleasure. “Aemond… I’m—”

“Cum for me” he commands, his voice a rough growl, and she shatters, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm. He follows her over the edge, spilling into her with a guttural moan, his body trembling with the force of his release.

They collapse together, tangled and breathless, their bodies slick with sweat. Aemond pulls her close, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “I love you” he whispers, his voice soft, tender.

She smiles up at him, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and contentment. “I love you too” she murmurs, snuggling into his chest.

They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the music still playing softly in the background, their bodies humming with the aftermath of their passion. And as they drift off to sleep, Aemond knows he’s done what he set out to do—he’s made his girl feel good.

But... how they did got together?

Aemond Targaryen was always the smartest boy in school, the one who could solve complex equations in his head and recite entire passages from memory. But his intelligence made him a target. Aemond was a bit of a nerd, always seen with his nose buried in a book or lost in thought, and that was enough to draw the attention of the bullies.

He was just 11 when they cornered him one day after school, dragging him behind the gym where no one would see. He tried to fight back, but there were too many of them, and they were too strong. They jeered and taunted him, calling him names, saying he thought he was better than them. Aemond didn’t understand why they hated him so much.

Then one of them, the leader, said something about putting out his eyes, like they were going to take away the only thing that made him special. Aemond tried to escape, but they held him down, and the sharp pain of a knife slicing across his face made him scream. Blood poured from his wound, and he fell to the ground, clutching his face, blinded by the searing pain.

The bullies ran off, laughing, leaving him there, broken and bleeding. He didn't know how long he lay there, his cries echoing in the empty courtyard.

It was then that she found him. His classmate, the girl who sat two rows over in their history class. She was just passing by when she saw him, crumpled and crying, his face covered in blood. Without thinking, she ran to him, kneeling beside him, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone to call for help.

"Hold on, Aemond" she whispered, her voice trembling but kind. "I'm here. I’ve got you."

She stayed with him and the teacher until the ambulance arrived, holding his hand and wiping the blood from his face with the hem of her shirt. He was in too much pain to speak, but her presence was a comfort, a light in the darkness. Aemond never forgot how she stayed with him when everyone else had turned away.

From that day on, he became attached to her. She was his safe place, the one person who didn’t see him as just the “nerdy kid” or the “boy with the scar.” She saw him, the real him. They grew up together, side by side, through every awkward teenage phase and high school drama.

Their first kiss happened on a cool autumn evening when they were both 15. They had decided to go for a walk after dinner, a habit they’d fallen into over the years. Aemond loved these walks—they were quiet, private, and it was during these moments that he felt closest to her.

The leaves crunched under their feet as they walked down the empty street, their breath visible in the chilly night air. She walked close beside him, her arm occasionally brushing against his. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughing easily, the way they always did. But tonight felt different. There was a certain tension in the air, a kind of electricity that neither of them could ignore.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft, silver glow over everything. They reached a small park, its playground empty, the swings swaying slightly in the breeze. She pulled him toward the swings, and they sat down, side by side, their feet barely touching the ground.

For a moment, they just sat there in silence, listening to the rustling of the leaves and the distant hum of the city. Aemond could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a nervous excitement building inside him. He glanced over at her, taking in the way the moonlight illuminated her face, her eyes sparkling with a light all their own.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly, turning to look at him.

He hesitated for a moment, his breath hitching in his throat. He wanted to tell her everything—how much she meant to him, how he couldn’t imagine his life without her, how her presence had saved him in more ways than one. But the words caught in his throat.

Instead, he simply said: “You.”

Her eyes softened, a small smile playing at her lips. “Good things, I hope” she teased, though there was a hint of something more in her voice.

He nodded, feeling a surge of courage. “Always” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile fading into something more serious, more intense. Aemond’s heart was racing now, his palms suddenly clammy. She was so close—close enough that he could see the small freckles dusting her cheeks, close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin.

And then, before he could overthink it, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was a light touch, barely there, but it sent a jolt of electricity through him, his entire body coming alive with the sensation.

For a moment, he didn’t move, stunned by the suddenness of it, by the realization that this was happening—that she was kissing him. But then he leaned into her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss. It was sweet and soft and perfect, everything he had ever imagined it would be.

When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their faces flushed with a mix of cold and excitement. She smiled at him, her eyes bright and happy, and he couldn’t help but smile back, his heart feeling light and free in a way it never had before.

“Wow” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and a hint of laughter.

“Yeah” he agreed, still trying to catch his breath. “Wow.”

They stayed there for a while, their foreheads touching, the world around them forgotten. In that moment, under the light of the moon, Aemond realized that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life making her smile like that. And as they walked home, their hands intertwined, he knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

By the time they were 17, Aemond knew he wanted more. His feelings for her had deepened into something stronger, something he couldn’t ignore. He’d never been brave when it came to matters of the heart, but for her, he found the courage. One warm spring afternoon, he asked her out on a date, his heart racing in his chest as he waited for her answer.

She smiled at him, that same kind smile she’d given him all those years ago when she found him bleeding and broken. “I’d love to” she said, and his heart soared.

From that moment on, they were inseparable.

Now, years later they are in their 20s, his girl—his love—lays in his bed, and Aemond knows there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than right here, with her.

As they lay in bed, wrapped in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, Aemond runs his fingers gently through her hair, savoring the warmth of her body pressed against his. The room is quiet, filled with only the soft sounds of their breathing and the steady beat of their hearts. She looks up at him, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

“Do you remember my 18th birthday?” she asks, her voice soft, her eyes shimmering with a teasing light.

Aemond chuckles, his hand coming to rest on her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin. “How could I forget?” he replies, his voice low and full of warmth. “I remember everything about that night.”

She smiles, her gaze turning thoughtful. “It was the first time we made love” she says softly, her eyes never leaving his.

Aemond’s smile deepens at the memory. He remembers how nervous he was, how much he wanted everything to be perfect for her. They had been together for a while by then, but this felt different—more intimate, more significant. It was her 18th birthday, a milestone, and he wanted to give her something special, something that would stay with her forever.

“You were so beautiful” he murmurs, his voice filled with affection. “You still are.”

She laughs lightly, her cheeks flushing with a soft blush. “I was so nervous” she admits, her fingers tracing small patterns on his chest. “I remember thinking… what if I’m not good enough? What if you don’t like it?”

Aemond shakes his head, his expression tender. “I was the one who was nervous” he confesses. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. I wanted to make sure you felt safe and loved. It was my first time too.”

She smiles, her eyes misting over with emotion. “You did” she whispers. “I remember the way you looked at me, like I was the most precious thing in the world. You were so gentle, so patient. You made me feel… cherished.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Because you are” he says quietly. “You always have been.”

She closes her eyes, relishing the warmth of his lips against her skin, the sincerity in his words. “I remember the way you touched me” she continues, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Every touch felt like fire and ice all at once. It was like… like you were showing me how much you loved me without even saying a word.”

Aemond smiles, his heart swelling with affection. “I was” he admits. “I wanted you to feel it, to know it deep in your bones. I wanted you to know that I’d always be there for you, no matter what.”

She looks up at him, her eyes soft and filled with love. “And I did” she says. “I still do.”

They fall silent for a moment, lost in the memory of that night. He remembers the way she trembled beneath him, her breath hitching in her throat as he kissed her slowly, deeply. He remembers the way her hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as he moved inside her, their bodies fitting together perfectly, as if they were made for each other.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt that… alive.” she says, breaking the silence, her voice filled with a soft laugh.

Aemond chuckles, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip, pulling her closer.

She smiles, her heart full, and leans up to press her lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. “I love you” she whispers against his lips, her eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you too,” Aemond replies, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “Always.”

And as they lay there, still naked wrapped in each other’s arms, they both know that no matter how much time passes, no matter what the future holds, they will always have each other.

[goddessofvalyria]

SUPERMODEL | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Aemond Targaryen is a famous supermodel. However, he treats his assistant so badly that they reach a breaking point. She leaves him and he, for the first time realize how much he needs her. Not only in works but in his life too.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, kissing, sexual themes, oral (f receiving), fingering, SMUT, sex, squirting, age gap (Aemond is in his early 30s and she is in her early 20s). This is a modern Aemond in modern AU, he doesn’t have his disability (his eye).

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 5800

Aemond Targaryen strides through the glass doors of the high-rise studio, exuding confidence. His tall frame is perfectly complemented by the tailored designer suit hugging his form, his silver-blonde hair slicked back impeccably. His assistant, a young woman trails behind him, her eyes downcast and her steps hurried to keep up. She clutches a clipboard close to her chest, filled with Aemond's schedule for the day.

"Assistant!" Aemond barks, not bothering to look back at her. "Have you confirmed the Vogue shoot for next Tuesday?"

"Yes, Mr.Targaryen" she replies quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And what about the interview with Vanity Fair?" he demands, his tone sharp and impatient.

"It's been moved to Thursday afternoon, as per your request" she answers, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Aemond clicks his tongue in annoyance. "I hate Thursdays" he mutters, more to himself than to her. He finally glances back at her, his expression one of disdain. "Why do you always sound so meek? Speak up! Or do you think my time isn’t valuable enough for you to bother?"

Her assistant swallows hard but doesn't respond to the insult. She knows better than to defend herself. Her job is to keep his life running smoothly, not to make waves. She simply nods, making a note on her clipboard.

They arrive at the studio, and the room buzzes with activity. Photographers, makeup artists, and stylists swarm around, all eager to cater to Aemond's whims. He thrives in this environment, basking in the attention, his arrogance palpable.

"Do they have my preferred brand of water here?" Aemond asks loudly, looking around with an air of superiority.

She nods quickly. "Yes, I made sure to have it stocked" she replies, already anticipating his needs.

Aemond scoffs. "You better. Last time, I had to suffer with that cheap swill they dared to offer me." He rolls his eyes dramatically before striding over to the makeup chair.

She moves to stand in the corner, her presence almost ghostly. She knows her place—always in the background, always silent. The makeup artist begins to work on Aemond, who lounges back, closing his eyes.

"You know, assistant" Aemond says suddenly, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "You could learn a thing or two from these people. They know how to do their jobs properly. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be such a disappointment."

Her cheeks burn with humiliation, but she nods again, keeping her expression neutral. She can’t afford to lose this job, not now, not ever. She watches as Aemond is transformed, his features highlighted and contoured to perfection, ready for the camera. The photographer signals that they're ready, and Aemond stands, adjusting his suit jacket.

"Stay out of the way" he hisses to her as he walks past, not even sparing her a glance.

She steps back, blending into the shadows, her eyes following his every move. She can see the allure he has, the way he commands the room, but she also sees the cruelty that lurks just beneath the surface.

The photoshoot begins, and Aemond is in his element. He poses effortlessly, each click of the camera capturing his sharp features and confident stance. The photographer shouts directions, and Aemond complies with a fluid grace, his every movement calculated and precise.

During a brief break, Aemond saunters over to her assistant, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I hope you're taking notes" he says mockingly. "This is how a real professional operates. Not that you'd know anything about that."

Her fingers tighten around the clipboard, but she nods once more. "Of course, Mr.Targaryen" she replies softly.

The day drags on with more of the same—Aemond’s arrogance, his cutting remarks, his constant demands. She endures it all in silence, her face a mask of calm. She organizes his meals, prepared by his personal chef, making sure they’re exactly to his liking. She liaises with journalists, manages his social media, arranges his travel—all while bearing the brunt of his contempt.

Finally, the photoshoot wraps up, and Aemond is ushered to a private room for an exclusive interview. She follows closely behind, ensuring everything is in order. As they enter the room, Aemond turns to her, his expression icy.

"Make sure you don’t embarrass me during this interview" he snaps. "I don’t need you messing things up like you always do."

She nods, standing just outside the frame of the camera, ready to jump in should anything be needed. She watches as Aemond slips effortlessly into his charming persona for the interviewer, his smile charismatic and his voice smooth.

The next day she stands outside Aemond Targaryen's lavish penthouse, the morning sun barely peeking over the horizon. She checks her phone, her breath visible in the cool air. He should have been up an hour ago. She takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell, waiting for a response. Silence. She presses it again, more insistently this time. Finally, she hears the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

The door swings open to reveal Aemond, shirtless, his hair disheveled and eyes heavy with sleep. He looks at her with an annoyed expression, clearly displeased to see her so early. "What the hell are you doing here so early?" he grumbles.

"You're late" she says firmly, not backing down from his glare. "You were supposed to be at the Versace photoshoot an hour ago." She pushes past him, entering the penthouse. The place is a mess, bottles from last night’s party littering the floor.

Aemond runs a hand through his hair, looking irritated. "I wasn’t aware you became my alarm clock" he snaps, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

She ignores the remark and heads straight to his bedroom. As she pushes open the door, she spots a young woman in his bed, her red hair sprawled across the pillow. Her full lips press into a thin line. Another one of his conquests, no doubt. Probably someone he met at that Vogue party last night.

"Get up!" she says sharply, her patience wearing thin. "You’re late, and I’m not covering for you again. If you don’t move, someone else will take your place." Her voice is louder now, more insistent.

Aemond smirks, clearly amused by her boldness. "Relax. I’m Aemond Targaryen. No one is taking my place," he replies arrogantly, but he gets out of bed anyway, stretching as he does.

"Where’s the chef?" he asks, referring to his private chef, as he pulls on a pair of pants. She sighs, already anticipating his reaction. "Andre has the day off" she replies. "I’ll make you breakfast."

Aemond rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, too tired to put up much of a fight. "Fine. Just hurry up," he mutters.

She heads to the kitchen, quickly whipping up a simple breakfast— toasted bread with Nutella and coffee. She works with practiced efficiency, her movements quick and precise. As she cooks, the girl in his bed stirs awake, realizing where she is. The young woman gets dressed quietly and slips out of the bedroom, clearly embarrassed. She avoids Elara’s gaze as she leaves the apartment.

Aemond strolls into the kitchen, yawning. "Again?" he complains, though he sits down at the counter and starts eating. "Couldn’t you have managed something more… sophisticated?"

She clenches her jaw but doesn’t respond to the jab. She’s used to his criticism by now. "You need to eat fast and I'm not your chef" she says instead, her tone neutral. "You’re already running late."

He finishes his breakfast leisurely, seeming to take pleasure in making her wait. Finally, he grabs his jacket, and they head out. By the time they arrive at the studio, Aemond is over an hour late. The crew is waiting, the tension palpable. The Versace representative looks irritated but relieved when he finally arrives.

Despite being late, Aemond still manages to charm his way through the photoshoot. His arrogance seems to evaporate in front of the camera, replaced by that effortless confidence that has made him a star. The photographers and stylists gush over him, forgiving his tardiness in exchange for his flawless performance.

As the shoot wraps up, she stands off to the side, making notes for the next appointment. She glances up and notices a young man, tall with curly black hair and green eyes standing near her, looking nervous. He introduces himself, and her face lights up. She laughs, a rare, genuine sound, and nods as he talks. It's clear they’re making plans—he’s asking her on a date, and for the first time in a long time, she looks truly happy.

Aemond catches sight of the exchange, his expression darkening. As they leave the studio, he confronts her in the car. "What the hell was that?" he demands, his tone harsh.

She blinks, taken aback. "What do you mean, Mr.Targaryen?"

"That pathetic guy" Aemond snaps. "You were all smiles and giggles. You do realize you're supposed to be working, not flirting with some random kid."

Her face hardens. "His name is Kai."

Aemond scoffs. "Don’t make me laugh. You don’t have friends. You have a job. My job."

They arrive back at his apartment, and Aemond storms inside, clearly in a foul mood. She follows, her patience finally wearing thin. "You know" she says, her voice trembling with anger. "Just because you have everything handed to you doesn’t mean you can treat everyone around you like garbage."

Aemond turns on her, his face twisted with rage. "You’re just a fucking virgin, unsatisfied with your fucking life!" he yells, his words cutting deep.

She flinches as if slapped. Her eyes flash with hurt and anger. "At least I have a life, Aemond. All you have is this—your fame, your arrogance. But none of it makes you happy, does it?"

Aemond’s face contorts with fury, and in a blind moment of rage, he raises his hand and slaps her hard across the face. The sound echoes through the apartment, and his hand flies to her cheek, her eyes wide with shock.

Silence hangs heavy in the air. Aemond’s chest heaves, his breath ragged, as if realizing what he’s done. She, however, doesn't wait for an apology. She takes a deep breath, her decision clear in her mind. She walks over to her bag, pulls out a folder, and slams it down on the kitchen island.

"What’s this?" Aemond asks, his voice uncertain now.

"My resignation" she says quietly, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes. "I’m done, Aemond. I’m fucking done with you."

She turns on her heel and walks out of the apartment, leaving Aemond standing there, stunned and alone. The door slams shut behind her, the finality of the sound echoing in the empty room. For the first time, Aemond is left alone with the weight of his actions, the silence of the apartment deafening in her absence.

Aemond Targaryen has had a miserable week without her. His new assistant, a well-meaning but utterly incompetent woman named Lisa, tries her best, but she’s no her. She fumbles over simple tasks, double-books his appointments, and worst of all, she can't anticipate his needs like her always did. Aemond finds himself snapping at her constantly, frustration boiling over.

“Lisa, for the last time” he growls on the fourth day, “I said black coffee with no sugar, not some fancy vanilla latte nonsense. Can’t you get anything right?”

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Targaryen” Lisa stammers, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I’ll get it fixed right away.”

Aemond waves her off, already regretting his outburst. But the truth is, he's angry because he misses jer. He misses how she could keep everything in order, how she never made mistakes, how she seemed to know what he needed before he even did. He hates to admit it, but he misses her presence—the silent, steady strength she always carried.

By the end of the week, his patience is worn thin. Exhausted and frustrated, he decides to drown his stress in a drink. He heads to a dimly lit bar, tucked away in one of the city’s quieter neighborhoods. As he steps inside, the familiar hum of low conversation and clinking glasses greets him. He heads to the bar and orders a whiskey, neat.

As he sips his drink, he spots a familiar face across the room. His breath catches in his throat when he sees her, sitting at a small table with that boy named Kai. The sight of her laughing, her face lit up in a way he rarely saw when she was with him, sends a surge of jealousy through his veins. Kai leans in closer, saying something that makes her laugh again, her hand brushing against his. Aemond’s grip tightens around his glass. She is wearing a silver slip dress, loose hair and seems to be... happy.

Without thinking, he gets up and makes his way over to their table. She looks up, her smile fading the moment she sees him. “Aemond” she says, her tone flat. “What are you doing here?”

“Just out for a drink,” Aemond replies smoothly, his eyes flicking to Kai. “Didn’t expect to see you here, though.”

Kai shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Uh, maybe I should—”

“No” she interrupts, her gaze never leaving Aemond. “You don’t have to leave, Kai.”

But Kai is already standing, sensing the tension in the air. “It’s fine” he says awkwardly. “I’ll call you later.” He shoots Aemond a wary glance before quickly leaving the bar.

She watches him go, her face hardening as she turns back to Aemond. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands, her voice low but seething with anger. “You can’t stand to see me happy, can you?”

Aemond smirks, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I was just saying hello” he says innocently. “No need to get so worked up.”

She stands abruptly, grabbing her coat. “I’m leaving” she snaps. “And for the last time, I’m not working for you anymore. Find someone else to boss around.”

Aemond follows her out of the bar, his expression darkening. “Wait!” he calls after her. “You still need to pick up your last paycheck.”

“Make me a wire transfer” she retorts over her shoulder, not bothering to stop. “I don’t want to see you again.”

But Aemond isn’t willing to let her go just yet. He watches her storm off down the street, her pace quick and determined. He knows she lives somewhere near the Flea Bottom district, a rougher part of town on the outskirts. Without thinking, he jumps into his car and starts following her, keeping a careful distance as she navigates through the winding, narrow streets.

She finally reaches her building, a run-down apartment complex with flickering lights and peeling paint. Aemond pulls up and gets out of the car, his heart pounding. He watches her disappear inside, and for a moment, he considers leaving. But something pushes him forward, an inexplicable need to see her, to talk to her.

He takes a deep breath and presses the buzzer for her apartment. It takes a few moments, but eventually, the door buzzes open. He heads up the creaky stairs to her floor, where she’s waiting, her arms crossed and her expression furious.

“What do you want, Aemond?” she snaps. “Say whatever you need to say and then get the hell out. I have work tomorrow.”

He steps inside, the space small and cluttered but cozy, filled with personal touches—a stark contrast to his own sterile, minimalist apartment. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his eyes searching hers. “I—” he starts, but the words catch in his throat. He doesn’t know what he wants to say.

“You’ve said enough already” she cuts him off. “You’ve insulted me, belittled me, hit me—what more could you possibly have to say?”

“I’m sorry” he blurts out, the words surprising even himself. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She narrows her eyes, crossing her arms tighter. “Is that it? You think an apology makes up for how you’ve treated me?”

Aemond takes a step closer, his voice softening. “I miss you. I miss the way you always managed everything, the way you put work before anything else—before your own life. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I can’t stand seeing you with… with someone else.”

She laughs bitterly. “Of course, it’s about you, isn’t it? You don’t care about me—you just don’t want anyone else to have me. You’re jealous, Aemond. That’s all this is.”

“Maybe I am” he admits, his eyes intense. “Maybe I can’t stand the thought of you with him because I—”

“Because what?” she challenges, her voice rising. “Because you think you own me? You don’t, Aemond. I’m not your possession.”

“Because I care about you!” he shouts, his frustration boiling over. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you, even when you’re not around. Because I—”

Before he can finish, he closes the distance between them, his hands gripping her arms. He kisses her roughly, desperately, his lips crashing against hers with a force that steals her breath away. For a moment, she resists, her hands pushing against his chest, but then something breaks inside her, and she gives in.

The kiss is fiery, filled with all the pent-up emotions between them—anger, frustration, longing. Aemond pulls her closer, his hands moving to her back, and her fingers curl into his hair, pulling him even deeper into the kiss.

When they finally break apart, both of them are breathing heavily, their foreheads pressed together. Her eyes are filled with confusion and anger, but also something else—a flicker of desire, of something she’s been trying to deny for too long.

“Get out” she whispers, her voice trembling.

Aemond’s grip on her tightens. “No, I—”

“Get out!” she yells, pushing him away. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want this�� I don’t want you.”

Aemond takes a step back, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows she doesn’t mean it—at least, he hopes she doesn’t. But he can see the determination in her eyes, the resolve. He nods slowly, backing away towards the door.

“I’ll leave” he says quietly. “But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

She doesn’t respond, just stands there, her arms wrapped around herself, her gaze distant. Aemond turns and leaves, the door closing behind him with a soft click. He stands outside for a moment, his heart racing, trying to process what just happened.

Inside, she sinks to the floor, her head in her hands. She’s exhausted—physically, emotionally. She doesn’t know what to do, what to think. But one thing is clear: nothing will ever be the same between them again.

Another week passes, and Aemond is nearing his breaking point. He’s more irritable than ever, snapping at everyone around him. His new assistant, Lisa, has quit after a particularly harsh comment about her incompetence, and he’s cycled through two more assistants since. No one can seem to fill the void she left behind. The thought of her is always at the edge of his mind, a constant, nagging presence.

Everywhere he looks, he’s reminded of her. The perfect organization of his closet, her sharp but efficient handwriting on his schedule, the way she always knew how to calm him down when he was in one of his moods. He’s tried to forget, tried to move on, but nothing works. He’s come to a stark realization: he doesn’t just miss her work ethic or her efficiency. He misses her. He needs her.

She, meanwhile, is struggling in her new job. She’s started working at a small startup as an assistant, but the pay is a fraction of what she earned with Aemond. Her first paycheck is a harsh reality check—only $400 for month. It doesn't covers her groceries, let alone rent or bills. She’s been wearing layers to bed to keep warm, unable to afford proper heating. She misses the stability, the security of her old job ($4000 for month)—even if it came with Aemond’s impossible attitude.

Despite everything, she can’t help but think about him too. She remembers their last encounter, the way he’d looked at her, the desperation in his eyes. And that kiss. She’d tried to forget the way his lips had felt on hers, tried to convince herself it meant nothing. But she can’t. The memory lingers, making her restless.

One evening, as she’s sitting at her small, wobbly kitchen table, trying to figure out how to stretch her last few dollars, there’s a knock at her door. She freezes, heart pounding. No one ever visits her here.

She opens the door to find Aemond standing there, looking worn and tired. For a moment, they just stare at each other, the silence heavy between them. He says her name, his voice rough. “Can I come in?”

She steps aside, letting him enter. He’s holding a folder, and she knows immediately what it is—a contract. “What do you want, Aemond?” she asks, her voice guarded.

“I want you to come back” he says simply, handing her the folder. “I’ve drawn up a new contract. Better pay, more benefits. And I promise, I swear, I’ll treat you better. No more… no more of what happened before.”

She hesitates, her fingers brushing the edge of the folder. “Why now?” she asks quietly. “Why come back now, after everything?”

Aemond sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Because I can’t do this without you,” he admits. “Because I’ve realized that I… I care about you. More than I should, maybe. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

Her heart skips a beat at his confession. She looks down at the contract, flipping through the pages. The terms are better than before—much better. But it’s not just about the money. It’s the way he’s looking at her, with a vulnerability she’s never seen before.

“I don’t know” she says softly. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“Please” he says, his voice almost breaking. “Just give me one more chance. I promise I’ll make it right.”

She studies his face, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all she sees is a man who looks lost without her. Against her better judgment, she finds herself nodding. “Okay” she whispers. “I’ll come back but only because my payment is good.”

Aemond lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding his features. “Thank you” he breathes. “Thank you”

The next evening, Aemond invites her to his apartment for dinner. He insists it’s to make peace, to start fresh. She’s hesitant at first, unsure if she should put herself in that position again, but eventually, she agrees. Part of her misses him too, misses the life she had working for him, even with all its complications.

When she arrives, the apartment is dimly lit, a soft, warm glow emanating from the candles placed around the room. It’s surprisingly intimate, and she feels a flutter of nerves in her stomach. Aemond greets her with a tentative smile, gesturing for her to sit at the elegantly set dining table.

Dinner is a quiet affair, the tension between them palpable. Aemond is uncharacteristically quiet, his usual bravado subdued. He serves a simple meal, one he’s prepared himself, and she’s surprised at the effort he’s gone to. As they eat, they talk—cautiously at first, then more freely, memories and old jokes breaking through the awkwardness.

“I’m sorry” Aemond says suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. “For everything. For how I treated you. I was… I was a complete asshole.”

Elara looks up, meeting his gaze. “Yes, you were” she agrees, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips. “But I’m not exactly innocent either. I should have said something sooner, stood up for myself.”

Aemond nods, reaching across the table to take her hand. “You’re right. But I’m glad you’re here now.”

There’s a moment of silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Then, Aemond stands, moving around the table to kneel beside her chair. He takes her face in his hands, his touch gentle but firm take off her glasses with thin montature. "I cant'.... I can't see" she whispers, but Aemond doesn't care.

“I’ve missed you” he murmurs, his breath warm against her lips. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

Before she can respond, he leans in and kisses her. It’s softer than their last kiss, but just as intense, filled with a longing that’s been building for weeks. She melts into him, her hands sliding up his chest, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, and she gasps against his mouth.

He pulls her up from the chair, guiding her backward until they’re against the wall. “I want you” he breathes, his lips moving to her neck, kissing a trail down to her collarbone. “I want you so fucking much.”

She moans softly, her fingers curling into his shirt. “Aemond…”

He cuts her off with another kiss, his hands moving to the hem of her dress, lifting it slowly. She can feel the heat radiating off his body, his touch sending shivers down her spine. He breaks the kiss just long enough to whisper, “Tell me you want this too.”

“I—” She hesitates for a moment, her mind racing, but then she looks into his eyes and sees the raw, desperate need there. “Yes” she breathes. “I want this. I want you.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He lifts her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom. The room is dark, the only light coming from the city outside. He lays her down on the bed, his lips never leaving hers, his hands roaming over her body, exploring, claiming.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice rough with desire. “I’ve tried to deny it, but I can’t anymore.”

He begins to undress her slowly, reverently, as if she’s something precious, something he’s afraid to break. His hands are gentle but firm, his touch electrifying. She arches into him, her body responding to his every movement.

As he presses her into the mattress, his body warm and solid against hers, she realizes that maybe—just maybe—this is where she’s meant to be. Here, with him, despite everything that’s happened. And as their bodies come together, the last of her reservations melt away, replaced by a deep, all-consuming need for the man holding her so tightly.

Aemond’s hands move over her body with a newfound tenderness, as if he’s discovering her for the first time. He slowly undresses her, his fingers deftly unzipping her dress, until it falls open. He slides the fabric down her shoulders, his lips following the path of his hands, kissing the exposed skin. She shivers under his touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

“God, you’re so beautiful” he murmurs against her neck, his breath hot on her skin. His hands move to her back, expertly unclasping her bra and tossing it aside. He takes a moment to look at her, his eyes dark with desire, before leaning in to capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue brushes against hers, and she responds eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

He pulls back slightly, his lips hovering just above hers. “You're so pretty” he whispers, his voice rough with need. He lowers his head, trailing kisses down her neck, to her collarbone, and then lower still. His lips find her breasts, his mouth hot against her skin as he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. She moans, her back arching off the bed, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

Aemond moves lower, kissing a path down her stomach, his hands sliding on her tights. He pulls her lace panties down in one swift motion, leaving her completely exposed. He takes a moment to admire her, his eyes drinking her in. Then, without warning, he lowers his head between her thighs, his tongue flicking out to taste her.

She cries out, her hands flying to his hair, her fingers twisting in the silvery strands. His tongue moves skillfully, licking and teasing her clit, his fingers pressing into her thighs to keep her still. She feels a wave of pleasure building, her body tensing with anticipation. Aemond groans against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her.

He flicks his tongue faster, his fingers joining in, sliding inside her with a slow, deliberate rhythm. She’s close, so close. He seems to sense it, increasing his pace, his tongue moving in circles, his fingers curling inside her, hitting just the right spot.

“Oh, God, Aemond—” she gasps, her voice breaking. Her hips buck against his face, her body trembling. He doesn’t let up, driving her higher, pushing her closer to the edge. She feels the tension coil tighter, tighter, until she cries out, her body spasming as she squirts, the intense pleasure ripping through her. Aemond doesn’t stop, his tongue and fingers continuing their relentless assault, milking every last drop of pleasure from her. She’s panting, her body slick with sweat, her mind hazy with bliss.

"I—I'm sorry" she whispers, trembling. "It—it was the first time... I don't know..."

Aemond finally pulls back, his face glistening, a satisfied grin on his lips. He crawls back up her body, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. “You’re incredible, fuck” he murmurs against her mouth. “You don't have to apologize”

Without breaking the kiss, he positions himself above her, his hard length pressing against her slick entrance. "Aemond" she stops him.

"You were right, I'm a fucking virgin"

He holds her gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and something deeper, something almost tender. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice a low, gravelly whisper.

She nods, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. “Yes” she breathes. “I’m sure but... I...don't know, I'm not your type... I—” she is worried and Aemond notice that.

"I'll be gentle, now kiss me"

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushes into her, filling her wet pussy completely. She moans, her head falling back, her eyes closing as he stretches her, filling her in a way that feels both new and familiar. He sets a slow, steady rhythm, his hips rolling against hers, his movements deep and controlled.

He leans down, capturing her lips in another kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth as he thrusts into her. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her body moving in perfect sync with his. Every thrust, every movement, is a delicious friction that sends waves of pleasure coursing through her.

Aemond increases his pace, his breath ragged against her ear, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “You feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice strained with effort. “I can’t get enough of you.”

She moans in response, her fingers digging into his back, her body arching up to meet his every thrust. She’s close again, the pleasure building once more, and she can tell he is too, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate.

“Come for me” he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. “I want to feel you come around me”

His words send her over the edge. She cries out his name as she comes, her body tightening around him, pulling him deeper. Aemond follows moments later, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he spills into her, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

“Don't worry” she whispers. “I'm on the pill”

They collapse together, a tangle of limbs and heavy breaths, their bodies slick with sweat. Aemond holds her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his face buried in her neck. For a moment, they just lie there, catching their breath, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of their lovemaking.

She feels a strange sense of calm wash over her, a feeling of contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time. She turns her head, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “What now?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Aemond lifts his head, his eyes meeting hers. There’s a softness there, a vulnerability she’s never seen before. “Now...” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You're mine....and....”

Fuck, he is hard agin.

Before she can catch her breath, Aemond lifts her effortlessly, pulling her onto his lap. He positions her over him, his hard length pressing against her slick entrance. She wraps her arms around his neck, her body still buzzing from her orgasm, her mind hazy with desire.

“Ride me” he growls, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her down onto him. She gasps as he fills her, stretching her, the sensation sending a new wave of pleasure coursing through her. She moves slowly at first, her hips rolling against his, finding a rhythm that makes them both moan.

Aemond’s hands roam over her body, gripping her hips, her ass, guiding her movements as she rides him. He leans in, capturing her lips in a rough, hungry kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth, matching the rhythm of their bodies. She moans into his mouth, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans against her lips, his hands tightening on her hips. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moves faster, her hips grinding against his, her body moving in perfect sync with his. “I...I feel... everything.” The pleasure builds again, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust, every roll of her hips. Aemond’s head falls back, his eyes closing, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips.

She feels the edge approaching again, her body straining, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She rides him harder, faster, her body desperate for release, her mind lost in the pleasure. Aemond’s grip on her tightens, his hips thrusting up to meet hers, driving deeper, harder.

“Yes, just like that" he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. “Come for me again.”

His words send her over the edge. She cries out, her body tightening around him, her orgasm crashing over her, a wave of pure, unadulterated bliss. Aemond follows her over the edge moments later, his body shuddering as he comes deep inside her, his release hot and intense.

They collapse agin together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. Aemond holds her close, his arms wrapped around her. For a moment, they just lie there, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of their lovemaking.

Elara’s heart pounds in her chest, her mind spinning, her body spent but satisfied. She turns her head, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

Aemond lifts his head, his eyes meeting hers. There’s a softness there, a vulnerability she’s never seen before. “Now” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Together.”

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. Despite everything, she feels a flicker of hope. Maybe this is the start of something new, something real. And as they lie there, tangled together, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they can make it work.

[goddessofvalyria]

THE SWEET TASTE OF BLOOD | Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Aemond Targaryen was a vampire and he always dreamed for centuries of her, a princess from a fallen kingdom destined to be his. One day, that dream became true.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT, She/Her pronouns, oral (f receiving), fingering, sexual tension, sex, blood, blood sucking, biting, blood play. A little bit of Dark Aemond. This one shot is inspired/has the vibes of "Bram Stocker's Dracula".

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4230

The wind howled through the twisted branches of the dead trees, a mournful sound that echoed through the desolate, mist-laden landscape of the Foreign lands. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale, ghostly light over the land. The castle loomed in the distance, its towering spires piercing the darkness like the fangs of a monstrous beast. It was an ominous sight, a place that had long been abandoned by the living but was far from empty.

The Lost Princess stumbled through the dense fog, her feet dragging over the uneven ground. She was weak, her clothes torn and dirty from weeks of wandering through the wilderness. Her kingdom had fallen, her people scattered, and she had been left with nothing but her dreams—dreams that had led her here, to this cursed place. Dreams of a castle, a dark prince, and a destiny she could not escape. She had thought they were mere fantasies, the desperate imaginings of a lost soul. But now, as she stood at the foot of the castle gates, she knew the truth. This was where she was meant to be.

“Who… who lives here?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind.

Suddenly, the great iron gates creaked open, as if summoned by her words. She took a hesitant step forward, drawn by an unseen force, a compulsion she could not resist. Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the wild pulse of the storm around her. She knew she should turn back, that no good could come from entering such a place. But something—a whisper in the wind, a shadow in the corner of her eye—compelled her forward.

Inside, the castle was as she had seen in her dreams: vast, dark, and foreboding, with high ceilings and walls lined with ancient tapestries. The air was cold, the silence almost suffocating. She moved through the hallways, her footsteps echoing off the stone floors, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

And then she saw him.

He stood at the far end of the great hall, bathed in the dim light of a dozen flickering candles. He was tall, with silver hair that fell to his shoulders and a sapphire glinting in place of his left eye. His skin was pale, almost luminescent in the candlelight, and his lips curved into a slow, knowing smile as he watched her approach.

"Prince Aemond Targaryen" he whispered, recognizing her from his dreams. The name sent a shiver down her spine, a strange mix of fear and familiarity. She should have been afraid, and yet…

"Welcome, my princess" Aemond's voice was smooth, a dark velvet that seemed to caress her very soul. "I have been waiting for you."

His words were both a greeting and a confession. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his desire. It was as if he had been waiting for her, not just for days or months, but for centuries.

"You… you know me?" she stammered, her mind reeling.

"I have seen you in my dreams, just as you have seen me, I know" he replied, stepping closer. "You are the one I have been searching for, the one I have longed for. You are mine."

The princess felt a rush of emotions—fear, confusion, anger. "I am no one's" she protested, taking a step back. "I am my own."

Aemond's smile widened, revealing the tips of his fangs. "You say that now, but soon you will understand. You are mine, as I am yours. We are bound by fate, by a destiny that cannot be denied."

She turned to flee, panic surging through her veins, but the doors slammed shut behind her with a force that rattled the walls. She was trapped.

"Let me go!" she cried, her voice breaking with fear. "Please, let me go!"

Aemond was upon her in an instant, his movements faster than her eyes could follow. He caught her by the arm, his grip firm but not painful. "You cannot leave" he said softly, his breath warm against her skin. "Not now. Not ever."

Tears streamed down her face as she struggled against him, but he held her fast. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Because I need you and you need me" he whispered, his voice almost desperate. "Because I cannot be alone anymore. You are the only one who can understand my pain, my suffering. You are the only one who can save me from this eternal darkness."

She looked up into his eyes—his one remaining eye a vivid violet, the sapphire a cold, unfeeling blue. For a moment, she saw the truth in his words, the loneliness, the despair that lay beneath his cruel exterior. And in that moment, she felt a strange, inexplicable connection to him, a pull she could not resist.

"I… I don't understand" she murmured, her voice trembling.

"You will" he promised, his lips brushing against her temple. "In time, you will" and then he locked her in her new chambers.

"Let me go!" she screamed knocking the door, but he never came back. "Let me go, fucking bastard!" after hours spent to screams, she knew that she needed to surrender. Those dreams were too vivid, too realistic and she never have talked to anyone. After the fallen of her kingdom she was the only one survivor and she left in the night or she will be dead from her enemies, those rebels who let the war begins.

It was her dreams that had led her there.

Two moons passed soon, and the princess lay in her chambers, feverish and weak. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow and labored. She had grown ill from the cold and damp, and she had not fed since she had arrived, or rather, she had refused. Aemond watched over her, his expression unreadable every night, entering her chambers. He had promised himself that he would not harm her, that he would not give in to the darkness that consumed him. But now, as he watched her suffer, he knew he had no choice.

If he did not bite her, she would die.

Aemond Targaryen sat in the dim light of the chamber, watching the Lost Princess as she lay feverish on the bed. Her skin was pale, a sickly sheen of sweat covering her body, and her breaths came in short, labored gasps. The fever had taken hold days ago, and nothing he did could break it. Her suffering was like a dagger to his heart, twisting deeper with every pained breath she took.

“I cannot let you die” he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. “I cannot lose you.”

The princess trembled, her body wracked with fever. She turned her head away from him, her eyes wet with tears. “Stay away from me!” she pleaded, her voice weak but filled with a resolve that surprised even her. A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, a silent testament to her fear and despair. “I would rather die like my family than live like this.”

Aemond flinched at her words. He could feel the sting of her rejection, the pain of her fear. She still did not understand—could not understand—the depth of his love for her, the madness that gripped his soul for centuries, compelling him to do whatever it took to keep her by his side. His obsession, his love, his need—it was all-consuming, and he could not bear the thought of losing her.

"You do not mean that" he said, his voice low and urgent, trying to reach her through the fog of her fever. "You do not understand what you are saying. You are confused, and the fever… it is making you delirious."

She closed her eyes, as if trying to shut him out, her breath coming in quick, shallow pants. “I would rather die” she repeated, her voice a mere whisper. “I would rather die than become a monster.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, anger and fear warring within him. “You speak of death as if it is a choice,” he hissed, his control slipping. “But I will not allow it. I cannot allow it. I need you, and I will not lose you—not to fever, not to anything.”

The princess turned her head, her eyes blazing with a feverish intensity. “It is not your choice!” she spat, her voice trembling. “You cannot decide my fate. I would rather die with honor, as my family did, than live as one of the damned.”

His face darkened at her words, a shadow passing over his features. “Your family is gone” he said coldly, his voice like ice. “They cannot help you now. But I can. I can save you.”

“Save me?” she cried, a desperate, bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Save me by damning me? By turning me into a creature like you?”

Aemond’s patience snapped. He moved swiftly, his hand reaching out to press her down against the bed, his strength easily overpowering her weakened form. “I do this for you” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. “For us. You do not understand now, but you will. In time, you will see.”

She struggled beneath him, weak and feverish, but defiant. “No,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Please, Aemond… don’t do this. I beg you, let me go.”

His expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of pain in his eye. “I am sorry” he murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing against her throat. He could feel the weak flutter of her pulse beneath his touch, a fragile, fading thing. “Forgive me” he whispered, his voice barely a breath.

Then he bit her.

She screamed, a sharp, agonized cry in the moment his fangs pierced her skin, he felt a rush of warmth, of life, of power. Her blood filled his mouth, hot and sweet, and he drank deeply, savoring the taste, the connection, the bond that formed between them. He could feel her life mingling with his, their souls entwining, becoming one.

The princess gasped, her eyes flying open as the pain of his bite gave way to something else—something deeper, something primal. She could feel him inside her, his thoughts, his emotions, his desires. She could feel his love, his obsession, his desperation. And she realized, with a sudden, startling clarity, that she had always known him. That she had always been his.

As he pulled away, her body went limp, her eyes closing as the fever broke, her breathing evening out. Aemond cradled her in his arms, his heart pounding with a strange mix of relief and fear. He had done it. He had saved her. But at what cost?

"You are mine" he whispered, his lips brushing against her forehead. "Forever."

And deep within her, the princess felt a stirring, a dark hunger that mirrored his own. She was his, now and always. Bound to him by blood, by fate, by a love that would last for eternity.

The castle doors swung shut behind them, sealing them inside, together, forever.

Outside, the storm raged on, the wind howling like a chorus of lost souls, mourning the fate of the princess who had wandered into the darkness… and never returned.

The black castle in the Foreignlands had grown colder since the night Aemond Targaryen had bitten his Princess. Shadows moved like living creatures along the walls, and the ancient stones seemed to hum with a dark energy. The castle was a place out of time, a twisted realm where day never fully broke and night reigned eternal.

The princess wandered the halls, her steps light and cautious, the silk of her gown trailing on the cold stone floors. Her body was different now—stronger, faster. Her senses were sharper; she could hear the faintest whisper of wind, see every detail of the darkness, smell every scent that wafted through the air. But more than anything, she could feel a new, gnawing hunger that clawed at her insides—a hunger she didn't understand and was afraid to satisfy.

Aemond watched her from the shadows, his single violet eye following her every move, his sapphire eye cold and unfeeling. He knew the transformation had been difficult for her. He could feel her fear, her confusion, and her anger. She had not yet embraced what she had become. She did not yet understand the power that flowed through her veins.

"You must feed, my love" Aemond whispered one night, stepping from the darkness to stand beside her. "You cannot resist it forever."

The princess turned to face him, her eyes wide with a mixture of longing and fear. "I don't want this" she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I never asked for this."

Aemond reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "No, but it is what you are now. It is what we are. You are mine, and I am yours. We are bound together, forever."

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't know how to live like this" she confessed. "I don't know how to be… this."

Aemond's expression softened, a rare flicker of tenderness crossing his features. "Then let me teach you" he said gently. "Let me show you how to embrace what you are, how to wield the power within you."

One night later. . .

Aemond sensed the stranger before she did—a faint heartbeat in the distance, a whiff of human scent. Someone had dared to enter his domain, his castle. His lips curled into a predatory smile.

"Tonight, my love" he whispered to the princess, who stood beside him, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Tonight, you will learn what it means to be one of us."

Together, they moved through the shadows, silent and swift. The princess could feel the energy coursing through her, the thrill of the hunt awakening something deep inside her. She glanced at Aemond, his face a mask of calm, predatory intent, and felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence. He had promised to teach her, and she trusted him, even in this.

The stranger—a lone traveler who had lost his way—wandered through the darkened halls, his torch flickering in the gloom. He was muttering to himself, his eyes darting nervously from side to side. The princess could hear his heartbeat, fast and erratic, like a frightened animal. She could smell the fear on him, a scent that made her mouth water, her fangs itch.

"Go to him" Aemond murmured in her ear, his voice a seductive whisper. "Feel his fear. Taste it. Let it guide you."

She hesitated, fear and hunger warring within her. "I… I don't know if I can."

Aemond's hand was on her shoulder, firm and reassuring. "You can" he insisted. "You must. There is no other way. Trust yourself. Trust me."

She looked at him. "Do it" he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Claim what is yours."

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, moving closer to the stranger. The man turned at the sound of her approach, his eyes widening in surprise and fear as he saw her. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, she was upon him, her new strength and speed carrying her across the room in an instant.

She could feel his warmth against her, the frantic beat of his heart beneath her fingers. She hesitated, her fangs poised over his neck, and for a moment, she thought she might pull away. But then she felt Aemond behind her, his presence a dark, comforting shadow, and she knew she could not turn back.

With a surge of determination, she sank her fangs into the man's neck, a rush of warmth flooding her mouth. The taste of his blood was intoxicating, a dark, rich elixir that filled her with a powerful, primal energy. She drank deeply, feeling the stranger's life force flow into her, feeling his heartbeat slow and then stop altogether.

The man whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut, but before he could utter a word, she sank her fangs into his neck. The moment his blood touched her lips, she felt a rush of warmth, a surge of energy that flowed through her veins like fire. The taste was intoxicating, a dark, rich elixir that filled her with a heady sense of power and pleasure.

Aemond watched her, his expression one of dark satisfaction. “Yes” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “Yes, that’s it. Drink, my love. Drink deeply.”

She did as he commanded, drinking deeply, feeling the man’s life force flowing into her, mingling with her own. She could feel his heart slowing, his body growing weaker, and it filled her with a dark, thrilling pleasure. She felt Aemond move behind her, his hands on her shoulders, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Do you feel it?” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive growl. “Do you feel the power, the life flowing into you?”

She nodded, unable to speak, her senses overwhelmed by the rush of blood, the heady mix of fear and pleasure. She could feel Aemond’s hunger too, his own desire mingling with hers, and it drove her on, urged her to drink more, to take more.

Aemond lowered his head to the man’s other side, his own fangs sinking into his flesh, drinking deeply. Together, they drained him, their bodies pressed close, their breaths mingling in the cold, dark air. The man’s life faded between them, his struggles growing weaker until, finally, he went still.

When it was over, they pulled away, their lips stained with blood, their eyes glowing with a fierce, predatory light. The princess felt a surge of exhilaration, a thrill of power and satisfaction that she had never known before. She turned to Aemond, her chest heaving, her body trembling with the aftershocks of their shared feeding.

Aemond looked at her, his face flushed, his lips curved into a dark, satisfied smile. “You see?” he said, his voice a low purr. “This is what we are. This is what we can be together.”

She stared at him, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, her body alive with sensation. “I… I understand now,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I feel it… I feel everything, Aemond”

He reached out, pulling her close, his hands sliding over her blood-slick skin. “Good” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers, tasting the blood still lingering there. “You are very good girl, princess.”

They kissed, the taste of blood mingling on their tongues, their bodies pressing together in a fierce, primal embrace. The princess could feel the heat of him, the hunger, the desire, and she responded in kind, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

They moved together, a slow, seductive dance, their bodies slick with blood, their hearts pounding in unison. Aemond pushed her back against the cold stone wall, his lips trailing down her neck, his hands roaming over her body. She arched against him, a low moan escaping her lips, her body alive with need.

He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding over hers, tasting the remnants of their shared feast. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, feeling the hard press of his body against hers, the heat of his skin, the intensity of his desire.

“Do you see now?” he whispered against her lips, his voice a low, seductive growl. “Do you see what we are, what we can be?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes half-closed, her body trembling with need. “Yes, I see.”

He smiled, a dark, wicked smile that sent a shiver down her spine. “Then let us become one,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “In blood and in body.”

Without another word, he swept her into his arms, carrying her to a stone altar in the center of the room. He laid her down upon it, his hands roaming over her body, his lips trailing kisses along her neck, her collarbone, her breasts covered. She moaned, her body arching beneath him, her skin alive with sensation.

He moved over her, his body pressing against hers, his breath hot against her skin. She could feel his hunger, his desire, his need, and it mirrored her own. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, urging him on.

"I need you" she whispered, Aemond began to undress her, he brought his hands to the laces of her dress starting to undo it, he brought his hands to her bodice, then to her slip undressing her frantically. Her body was beautiful, divine, a temple to be loved and honored. Her skin was white and smooth like that of any noble, perfumed and fucking inviting.

Their kiss was fierce, primal, driven by a hunger that went beyond mere physical desire.

Aemond whispered her name and then pressed his mouth against hers again, stripped of his clothes, naked above her he looked like a devil: the strongest, most beautiful and dangerous. He was like that, an enigma. He had the body of a warrior, toned abs and a strong and soft chest that she wanted to kiss. His arms were long and veiny just like his hands. Under the soft moonlight that entered the castle windows, the vampire prince looked at his princess, caressed her blood-stained face and went down with his blood-stained hands on her body, both dirty and covered in the scarlet red liquid.

"Mine for eternity" he hissed leaning down, kissing her where her heart was. Her blood-stained skin was fucking hot, the feeling of his lips wrapped around her breasts drove her crazy, she arched her back when he wrapped his lips around her nipple and she ran her hands through his silver hair. Aemond felt her melt under his touch, he slowly moved down with kisses and opened her legs.

"Aemond…" she whispered feeling the blood running down her body, dirty as well as Aemond's. "My beautiful damned princess, my… bride." he gently opened her legs, placed a kiss on her wet cunt.

"Oh!" a moan escaped her lips when she felt Aemond's mouth press against her pussy. She began to move her hips against his face, her legs tightly wrapped around his head, shaking, arching as she moaned his name that echoed through the dark walls of the castle. All she felt was his mouth and fingers making her feel pleasure.

Aemond curled his fingers inside her, his tongue licked her clit and felt her come, she cummed over his lips. "Aemond…oh!" she trembled so much. Her prince rose from her body, took his long, hard, wet, precum-tipped manhood in his hand and rubbed himself against her.

"I've never done this before" she whispered feeling small against the rock beneath her. "I'll be gentle" Aemond whispered licking his lips, their bodies claiming each other. "And with that I take you as my bride" with a sharp thrust he began to move slowly inside her. "And I take you as my husband" she whispered feeling the invasion between her thighs.

"Wet, tight, ready just for me" he whispered unable to hold back his little moans His hips suddenly slammed harder against hers.

They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies slick with sweat and blood, their cries echoing through the darkened halls. She could feel the power building within her, a dark, consuming force that threatened to overwhelm her. But Aemond was there, guiding her, grounding her, his touch both tender and demanding.

"Do you feel it?" he whispered, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Do you feel the power, the strength, the life flowing through you?"

"Yes," she gasped, her nails digging into his back, drawing blood. "Yes, I feel it."

He fucked her against the stone altar, his cock tearing her open with every thrust, her moans echoing off the stone walls of the castle. She moaned, a mess, letting herself be used. Lost in pleasure, lost in those kisses that tasted like sin.

Aemond kissed her, drawing a moan from her, making her submit to him and his thrusts. Hell, he was drunk on her, on his bride, on the woman he had waited for centuries and who he could now love and who was his.

He groaned, his body shuddering against hers as he reached his climax, his fangs sinking into her neck, drinking deeply. She cried out, her own release following moments later, her body convulsing beneath him, her vision going white with pleasure.

When it was over, they lay together, their bodies intertwined, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Aemond held her close, his lips brushing against her forehead, her cheek, her lips. "You are mine" he whispered, his voice soft, almost tender. "Now and forever, wife."

She nodded, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of their lovemaking. "And you are mine" she whispered back, her voice barely audible. "Forever, husband."

The castle was silent once more, the shadows creeping back into their corners, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat. Outside, the storm had passed, the wind dying down to a soft, mournful whisper.

They lay together in the darkness, their bodies entwined, their souls bound by blood and by love, forever.

This was the sweet taste of blood.

[goddessofvalyria]

If you want read more, this is my Masterlist and thank you for following me 🖤

[goddessofvalyria]

THE OTHER WOMAN | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: She is the daughter of a prominent politician, Aemond is her father's political partner. They have been lovers for a few months, but feelings can become dangerous…

After I read @peachysunrize amazing and well written fic, this mine was inspired by hers, so I'm gonna giver her all the credit for the inspo 🖤

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, kissing, sexual themes, oral (f receiving), fingering, SMUT, sexual tension, sex, cheating, spanking, age gap (Aemond is in his early 30s, married to Floris Baratheon and he's a girl dad, she his lover, is in her early 20s). Aemond calls her princess, good girl and babygirl. She calls him daddy. This is a modern Aemond in modern AU, he doesn’t have his disability (his eye).

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4440

"The other woman will always cry herself to sleep. The other woman will never have his love to keep. And as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone."

― The other woman, Lana Del Rey.

The bathroom of the luxury restaurant is dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. Outside, the sounds of celebration filter through the heavy wooden door—their families, friends, and political allies gathered for a victory dinner after the elections. Her's father, Aemond’s wife, Floris, his little daughter Alysanne, and all their partners are seated at a grand table, laughing and toasting to their success.

Inside, however, there is no laughter—only the heated, breathless silence that hangs between Aemond and his little secret: her, the daughter of his political partner.

She left the room with the excuse of going to the bathroom, he left after five minutes to go and smoke a cigarette before dessert.

She presses herself against the cool marble counter, her breath quickening as Aemond steps closer, his eyes dark with desire. He places a hand on her waist, pulling her to him, their bodies flush together.

“We shouldn’t be doing this” she whispers, though her hands reach up to clutch his shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of his suit.

“I know” Aemond murmurs, his voice low and thick with urgency. “But I can’t stay away from you.” He smells her French perfume that he gave to her for her birthday.

Their lips crash together in a searing kiss, all passion and fire. His hands roam her back, pulling her closer, as if he’s afraid she might slip away. She tastes the wine on his lips, feels the desperation in his touch, and it ignites something deep within her—a hunger, a need she cannot deny.

They break apart for a moment, both gasping for breath. “Aemond” she breathes, her voice filled with a mix of fear and longing. “They’re right outside…”

“Let them be” he replies fiercely, capturing her lips again. His kiss is demanding, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to pour all the frustration and desire he feels into this one stolen moment.

Her heart races, a mix of adrenaline and desire coursing through her veins. She knows the danger of this, knows the consequences if they’re caught. But in this moment, with Aemond’s hands on her body and his lips on hers, she doesn’t care. She wants him—needs him—more than she’s ever needed anything.

Aemond’s hands slide up her thighs, pulling her closer, his mouth moving to her neck, where he plants a trail of burning kisses. She tilts her head back, giving him more access, a soft moan escaping her lips. She knows she should stop this, push him away, but every nerve in her body is screaming for more, for him.

“Gods, princess” Aemond groans against her skin, his breath hot and ragged. “You drive me mad.”

She smiles, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Good” she whispers, her lips brushing against his ear. “I want you to be mad. I want you to lose control.”

He pulls back, his eyes blazing with a mixture of lust and frustration. “You’re playing a dangerous game” he warns, his voice low and husky.

“I know” she replies, her hand sliding down to the front of his trousers, feeling the heat of his arousal. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?”

Aemond’s eyes darken, and with a low growl, he crushes his lips to hers once more. Their tongues dance in a heated battle for dominance, the taste of him intoxicating. She can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained desire, and it fuels her own fire.

The sound of laughter from outside the door pulls them back to reality, and they break apart, both panting heavily. Aemond rests his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her hips. “We need to go back” he says, though his voice is thick with reluctance.

She nods, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. “Yes” she agrees, though every fiber of her being is screaming for more. She smooths her dress, trying to steady her racing heart. “We’ll talk later.”

Aemond’s eyes bore into hers, filled with a mixture of longing and regret. “Yes” he says quietly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Later in your hotel room.”

With one last, lingering look, he turns and opens the door, stepping back into the light and noise of the restaurant, leaving her alone in the dimly lit bathroom, her heart still pounding with the heat of their forbidden kiss.

When Aemond and she return to the table, the atmosphere is light, filled with laughter and clinking glasses. Aemond slips into his seat and immediately lifts his daughter onto his lap. Alysanne, the little girl giggles, nestling into her father's arms, her small hands playing with the buttons on his jacket. She takes her place beside her father, trying to ignore the way her skin still burns from Aemond's touch.

She picks up her dessert fork, eyeing the delicate chocolate mousse in front of her, but her appetite has vanished. Her father, noticing her hesitation, leans in with a concerned look. "Dear, what's wrong?" he asks softly. "You’ve barely touched your food."

She forces a small smile, setting the fork down. "I’m fine, dad" she replies, her voice steady but lacking its usual vibrance. "I just don’t feel very well. I think I need to get back to my hotel room."

Aemond glances over at her, his eyes sharp with concern and something else—something deeper that he quickly masks with a casual smile. His daughter, however, is less subtle. Alysanne points directly at her, the little girl eyes wide and filled with childish wonder. "She looks like a fairy tale princess!" she exclaims, her voice bright with excitement. "Look at her dress—it sparkles! And her hair… it’s like the ladies in my storybooks."

The adults at the table laugh softly, charmed by the girl's innocence. She manages a genuine smile, touched by the child's sincerity, even as her heart twists with conflicting emotions. Aemond's gaze remains fixed on her, unreadable, but his grip on his daughter tightens slightly.

As the dinner draws to a close, the conversations turn to politics and future strategies. Aemond leans over to her, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Would you mind taking Alysanne out to the park for a while?" he asks. "We’re going to discuss a few more things here."

She hesitates, but the hopeful look in the little girl's eyes makes her nod. "Of course" she agrees, standing up and offering her hand to the girl. "Come on, princess" she says with a gentle smile. "Let’s go on an adventure."

Outside in the park, the night air is cool and refreshing. Alysanne chatters away, her small hand clutching's her tightly. She twirls around, mimicking a princess with every step, her eyes never leaving her. "You really are like a princess" she says dreamily. "Are you sure you’re not from a fairy tale?"

She laughs softly, her heart aching at the purity of the child’s admiration. "I’m sure" she says gently. "But I’m glad you think so."

From inside the restaurant, Aemond watches them through the large windows, a soft smile playing on his lips as he sees his daughter so happy. But his gaze lingers on her—her elegance, her grace, the way she moves like she’s gliding on air. He feels a pang of something—regret, perhaps, or longing.

Inside, the photographers gather for the official photos, capturing the newly victorious politicians and their families. She turns slightly, catching sight of Aemond and Floris through the window. They’re standing close, their heads bowed together as they talk. Then, unexpectedly, Floris leans in, and Aemond kisses her. It's a tender, lingering kiss, one meant for the cameras and the public eye. But to her, it feels like a dagger to the heart.

She quickly turns away, blinking back the sting of tears. Alysanne notices the change in her demeanor and stops her twirling. "Are you okay, princess?" she asks, her small face full of concern.

She forces another smile, nodding. "I’m fine, sweetie" she says softly. "Let’s keep walking a little longer."

When the dinner finally ends, they all head back to the hotel. The mood is still celebratory, but she feels distant, like she’s moving through a dream. As they reach their rooms, she turns to her father and the rest of the group. "I think I’ll head in for the night," she says quietly. "I’m still not feeling very well."

Her father looks at her with concern, but he nods. "Of course, dear. Get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning."

Aemond’s eyes meet hers for a brief, intense moment, but she quickly looks away, slipping into her room without another word. Once inside, she leans against the door, closing her eyes as a single tear escapes down her cheek. She takes a deep breath, pushing the feelings down, burying them where no one—not even Aemond—can see.

Tonight, she decides, she will let herself feel the pain. But tomorrow, she will be the politician’s daughter again—strong, composed, and ready to face whatever comes next.

She hate being the other woman.

The other woman will always cry herself to sleep. The other woman will never have his love to keep. And as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone.

Aemond paces the balcony of his hotel room, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm brewing inside him. Behind him, Floris leans against the railing, her expression set in a mask of irritation and defiance. Inside, their daughter sleeps soundly in the middle of their bed, oblivious to the tension simmering between her parents just outside.

“You have to stop behaving like this, Aemond” Floris snaps, her voice low but sharp enough to cut through the night. “People are starting to notice. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

Aemond stops mid-pace, turning to face her, his violet eyes blazing with anger. “Behaving like what, Floris?” he spits, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like a man trapped in a marriage that’s nothing more than a political arrangement?”

Floris rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “We both knew what this marriage was, Aemond. You can’t act like you’re some wounded victim now.”

Aemond steps closer, his face inches from hers, his voice a low growl. “Our marriage is a pure political agreement because the Baratheons side with the Targaryens. Fucking you drunk and having a daughter is the only good thing you’ve done.”

Floris’s eyes widen in shock, then narrow in fury. “How dare you...” she hisses, her voice trembling with rage. “Do you think you’re so much better? You’re nothing but a cold, arrogant bastard who hides behind his fucking name.”

Aemond’s jaw clenches, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Watch your tongue, Floris” he warns, his voice dangerously low. “You forget yourself.”

But Floris isn’t done. Her face flushes with anger, and she leans in, her words laced with venom. “You want the truth, Aemond? I’ve been cheating on you since day one. From the moment we said our vows, I was already looking elsewhere. But your precious daughter? She is yours, even if you don’t deserve her.”

Aemond feels a cold, sinking sensation in his chest, his mind racing with her words. "Don't talk about my daughter. I'm always there for her, I care about her, I take and pick her to school, I take her to the doctor when she is sick, I bought her little gift and you?! You leave her with the baby sitter and go out with your fucking friends! "

For a moment, he’s speechless, stunned into silence by her confession. Then the anger flares up again, hotter and more consuming than before.

He steps back, his expression hardening into a mask of controlled fury. “You disgust me” he says quietly, his voice like ice. “I can’t even stand to look at you.”

Floris smirks, unbothered by his words. “Then don’t” she snaps. “Leave. Go run to your little whore if that’s what makes you feel better.”

Aemond’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t reply. Instead, he turns on his heel and storms back into the room. He spares a glance at his sleeping daughter, his heart softening momentarily. Alysanne is the only reason he’s stayed this long, endured this sham of a marriage. But even that isn’t enough anymore.

Without another word, he heads out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. His steps are quick and purposeful as he crosses the hallway, his mind racing. He reaches her's door and pauses for just a moment, his breath coming in short, angry bursts. Then he raises his hand and knocks, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor.

Inside, his lover sits on the edge of her bed, her heart still heavy from the events of the evening. She had been trying to distract herself, but her mind keeps drifting back to Aemond, to the kiss he shared with Floris, to the way he looked at her, torn between duty and desire.

The knock at the door startles her, and she stands, her pulse quickening. She knows it’s him—somehow, she just knows. She hesitates for a moment, then crosses the room and opens the door.

Aemond stands there, his expression a mixture of anger and desperation. “Princess” he says, his voice rough, almost broken. “I need to talk to you, I need you.”

She looks at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She can see the turmoil in his eyes, the pain he’s trying so hard to hide. She steps aside, opening the door wider to let him in. “Come in” she says softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He steps inside, and she closes the door behind him, turning to face him. For a moment, they just stand there, staring at each other, the silence between them thick and heavy with unspoken words. Then Aemond moves forward, closing the distance between them in two quick strides.

Before she can say anything, he pulls her into his arms, his lips crashing down onto hers with a fierce, desperate hunger. She gasps against his mouth, but then she’s kissing him back, all her frustration, anger, and longing pouring out in that one heated moment.

His hands move to her waist, pulling her closer, and she melts against him, her fingers tangling in his hair. She knows this is dangerous, knows this could change everything, but right now, in this moment, she doesn’t care. She just wants him—needs him—as much as he needs her.

“Aemond” she whispers against his lips, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire.

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “I can’t do this anymore” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin. “I can’t pretend. I can’t keep up the charade. I need you.”

She looks up at him, her eyes searching his. “Then don’t pretend” she says softly. “Don’t hide.”

He closes his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know what to do...” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know how to make this right... I'm lost.”

Aemond’s breath is ragged against her lips, his grip on her waist firm and desperate. For a moment, they stay there, locked in a kiss that feels like both a promise and a plea. But then she pulls back, her eyes searching his, her expression full of conflicting emotions.

“Aemond, we can’t keep doing this” she says, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and hurt. “What are we? What do you even want from me?”

He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want—what I need—except you” he replies, his tone raw, almost desperate. “I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else. I can't stand this anymore."

She shakes her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “And what about your wife? What about Floris? You kissed her tonight, right in front of everyone. Are you going to pretend that didn’t happen?”

Aemond’s face darkens, his frustration boiling over. “That was for the cameras” he snaps. “For appearances, for politics. It meant nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing” she retorts, her voice rising. “It looked like you were still playing the dutiful husband.”

Aemond’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I want this? You think I want to be stuck in this sham of a marriage?”

“Then leave her!” she exclaims, her frustration spilling over. “If you hate it so much, if it’s such a burden, then why don’t you just leave?”

“It’s not that simple” Aemond snaps, his voice taut with tension. “You don’t understand—”

“Then explain it to me!” she interrupts, her eyes flashing with hurt. “Make me understand, Aemond. Because right now, all I see is a man who can’t make up his mind, who’s too afraid to choose.”

Aemond’s jaw clenches, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and frustration. “You want to know the truth?” he says harshly. “Fine. Floris has been cheating on me since the day we got married. Our whole marriage is a lie. She doesn’t love me and I sure as hell don’t love her.”

She stares at him, stunned by his admission. She opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out. The weight of his confession hangs heavy in the air between them.

“She’s been with someone else this whole time” Aemond continues, his voice raw with pain. “I’ve been a fool, playing the part of a faithful husband while she’s been screwing someone else behind my back.”

Her heart twists in her chest. She takes a step forward, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Aemond…”

But he pulls away, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger. “And you” he adds, his voice breaking. “You think I’m some kind of monster, torn between two women. But it’s not like that. It’s never been like that. You're not the other woman, you're the only who I love.”

Her eyes well up with tears, her own anger flaring in response. “Then what is it, Aemond? Tell me! Because I can’t keep doing this, pretending like I don’t feel anything when I see you with her, when I know you’re still tied to her.”

Aemond’s gaze locks with hers, intense and unyielding. “It’s you” he says fiercely. “It’s always been you. I’m tired of hiding, of pretending. I want you. Only you.”

Before she can respond, he closes the distance between them, his lips crashing onto hers with a force that takes her breath away. It’s a kiss full of anger, frustration, and pent-up desire, as if he’s pouring all his emotions into this one moment.

She responds with equal fervor, her hands clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer. She feels the heat of his body against hers, the raw need that radiates off him in waves. Their kiss deepens, turning from angry to desperate, their tongues clashing, teeth scraping, both of them too consumed by their emotions to care about anything else.

Aemond’s hands move to her back, pulling her flush against him, his grip possessive, almost bruising. “Princess” he groans against her lips, his voice thick with need. “I need you. Now.”

She doesn’t answer, but her body does, pressing against him, her nails digging into his back as she pulls him toward the bed. He lifts her effortlessly, carrying her the few steps to the bed and dropping her onto the mattress, his body following hers down.

Their clothes are a blur, a flurry of buttons and zippers, each piece discarded carelessly onto the floor as they tear at each other’s garments with frantic hands. He is naked with only is boxers on, she's wearing black lace panties and no bra.

"Gods, the woman she is." Aemond thinks.

The room fills with the sounds of their heavy breathing, the rustle of sheets, the creaking of the bed under their combined weight.

Aemond hovers over her, his eyes dark and intense, his breath hot against her skin. “This isn’t just sex” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “This is everything I’ve wanted, everything I’ve needed.”

She nods, her own breath ragged, her hands roaming over his body, feeling the muscles tense and flex beneath her touch. “Then show me” she whispers, her voice a mix of challenge and invitation. “Show me what I mean to you.”

With a growl, he captures her lips again, his body pressing into hers, skin against skin, heat against heat.

Every touch is electric, every kiss searing, their bodies speaking the words their mouths can’t. It’s a release of all the pent-up emotions, all the pain and longing they’ve both been harboring for months.

As they are together, the world outside fades away. There’s no Floris, no politics, no lies or betrayals—just the two of them, lost in each other, finding solace in their shared passion.

Aemond kneels on the floor, opens her legs still cover with her lace panties and looks at her wet cunt so wet and hot at the same time. "You have soaked these panties" he smirks and after she lifts her lips, he put them down. "Gods, I need this pretty cunt so fucking much"

He starts to lick her between her spread legs and go so much deeper with his tongue, moans of pure pleasure escaped her lips at the feel of his mouth on her, she grabs one boobs, moaning pleasure and stars to torment her nipple. "Aem- Aemond..."

He close his eye, brush his fingers over her sensitive spot and she tremble, her body shaking. "You like this type of sex: dirty and rough, but also passionate... Gods, princess you are meant to be mine"

She moans at the sensation of his tongue and two fingers inside her, torture and give her that damn prohibited pleasure. "Gods, Daddy" she arches her back, Aemond smirks.

She called him daddy.

She bites her lower lip, one hand into Aemond's hair. "Please, take me, please" she arches her back, feels Aemond's tongue fucking her, his arms around her legs.

"Daddy please" she beg him, Aemond stands up. "You've been a very bad, bad girl my dear" he looks at her: naked, aroused and she begs for him.

Aemond kneels on the bed and takes her hips with his hands and he turns her on the bed, her naked ass exposed to him. "I need to punish you, babygirl"

She looks at him. "How do you want to punish me, daddy?" she teases him. "You'll see, princess"

"Breathe slowly" Aemond whispers caressing her ass. "Hmm" she moans. "This is not a punishment" she feels his hand and they are so fucking good. He opens her legs again, finding her womanhood already wet and ready to take him. He smirks, push down his boxers and then he push his manhood between her thighs, gets wet into her pussy, he enters only the tip and then slowly push himself outside.

"Fuck you, Aemond" she growls and with one hand, he spank her ass. "What did you say princess?" he looks at her. "Fuck you" she repeats. "I don't wanna be the other woman, I wanna the only woman that warm your bed" she admits.

"Be a good girl for your daddy" he whispers and then he slaps her ass again and again, punishing her. "You're jealous, aren't you babygirl?"

"Yes" she whispers. "I'm fucking-" she doesn't finish the phrase that another slap hits her ass. "Good girl, good girl who likes to be spanked" he teases her. "I'm jealous too" he admits. "All these boys at your University... hmm babygirl, did you fuck them?" he asks. "No, daddy I only fuck you when you want. I'm yours."

"A good girl need her rewards" he smile devilish pushing himself his coock her wet womanhood. Aemond breaths in her French perfume, kisses her and remained still for a few moments. "I'll take you raw, no condom" slowly he begin to thrust, the pace is slow, but soon it increase, she moans digging her red nails into the sheets.

"Aemond, Aemond, Aemond" she moans feeling him deeper and deeper. He fucks her rough but with passion, making her begging for more.

"I know you are a good girl for your daddy" Aemond whisper she nods lost in pleasure feeling her legs tremble, Aemond push his cock between her deep hole, caressing her wet folds with one hands and spanking her ass with other.

"I need to...I need to cum" she moans taking all the pleasure. "You need to cum, hm, babygirl?" he says, caressing her ass and pushing his cock to the limit.

"Cum for me babygirl" he smirks. "Cum on my cock, cum and let yourself feel the pleasure" she cry, Aemond bit his lower lip. "You will fill up with all my seed" he smirks. "I'm on the pill" she whispers, but he doesn't hear her words.

"Do you want to be mine? Then be mine, babygirl" he let himself cum into her thight pussy.

She crawls into her arms, Aemond wraps her and kiss her so deeply with his tongue. "My good girl alway ready for his daddy."

For a moment, they lie there, tangled in each other, their breathing heavy, their hearts pounding in unison. Aemond rests his forehead against hers, his hand gently caressing her cheek, his expression softer now, vulnerable.

“Princess” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m not letting you go. Not ever.”

She closes her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek, but she nods, her heart too full to speak. They stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that whatever happens next, they’ll face it together.

"Don't tell me promises that you can't keep" she kisses his chest. "I love you Aemond, but I'll be always the other woman."

Aemond stays in silence, thinking how what he can do: surely divorcing from Floris and let her admitting his cheat in front of her father and after, taking his princess.

"If...I divorce, you will be my girl?" he asks. "I'm not goin to ruin your family" she answers. "Let me adjust some things, trust me" he caresses her long thick hair.

She fall asleep in his arms, Aemond watch out of the window and hope that one day they will be free to love each other.

"I truly love you" he whispers and a tear drops from his violet eye.

He loves her so much and soon she will be not the other woman, but his only and only love.

[goddessofvalyria]

CARELESS WHISPER | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Just love between Aemond Targaryen and his girl.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, sexual themes, oral (f receiving), fingering, SMUT, sexual tension, sex. This is a modern Aemond in modern AU, he calls her "good girl" and "princess."

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

Words: 2650

Aemond Targaryen stands in the dimly lit living room of his upscale apartment, the soft glow of the city lights streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows on the polished wooden floor. The faint, haunting melody of "Careless Whisper" by George Michael plays in the background, the saxophone riff filling the room with a melancholic, sensual rhythm that matches the pounding of his heart.

He glances over his shoulder, his eyes locking onto her. She stands by the window, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape, her silhouette illuminated by the city lights. There’s a wistful look on her face, one that tugs at something deep within him. His "good girl," his "princess" she’s been everything to him—his sanctuary, his weakness, his addiction.

He crosses the room in a few strides, his bare feet silent against the cool floor. As he gets closer, she turns, sensing his presence. Her eyes meet his, and there’s a flicker of something—anticipation, desire, maybe even love. He can’t quite tell, but it doesn’t matter. He’s lost in her, in the way she looks at him as if he’s the only thing that matters in this vast, chaotic world.

“Come here” he murmurs softly, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down her spine.

She moves towards him, her steps slow, deliberate, almost hesitant. There’s a tension in the air, a charged current that seems to draw them together like magnets. When she reaches him, he slips his hands around her waist, pulling her close until there’s no space left between them.

“My good girl” he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She shivers again, a soft gasp escaping her lips, and he feels a surge of satisfaction. He loves the way she reacts to his touch, the way she melts against him, her body molding perfectly to his.

His fingers trail up her back, finding the zipper of her black dress and slowly tugging it down. The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a lace bra and panties. She looks up at him, her eyes wide, vulnerable, but there’s a spark there too—a spark of daring, of want.

Aemond cups her face, his thumb brushing across her cheek. “You’re so beautiful” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “So perfect.”

She blushes at his words, a soft pink tinting her cheeks, and he can’t help but smile. He leans down, capturing her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. She responds immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. It’s a slow burn, a build-up of tension that’s been simmering between them all night.

As the song plays on, Aemond moves them towards the couch, his hands never leaving her body. They sink down onto the cushions, their bodies entwined, the kiss growing more urgent, more needy. He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper.

She nods, her eyes locked on his. “Yes, my love” she breathes. “Always.”

Aemond smiles, his heart swelling at her words. He leans in, capturing her lips in another kiss, his hands roaming over her body, exploring every inch of her. She arches into him, a soft moan escaping her lips, and he feels a rush of desire, of possessiveness. She’s his, all his, and he’s not going to let her go.

He pulls back again, his eyes dark with desire. “Turn around, princess” he commands softly, his voice low, authoritative.

She does as he asks, turning so her back is pressed against his chest, her body fitting perfectly against his. He wraps his arms around her, his hands sliding down her stomach, his lips brushing against her neck.

“You’re such a good girl for me” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “My good girl.”

She shivers at his words, her breath hitching in her throat. He smiles against her skin, his hands continuing their slow, deliberate exploration of her body, his touch light, teasing.

“Aemond…” she whispers, her voice breathy, filled with need.

He smirks, his lips brushing against her ear. “What do you want, princess?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

“You” she breathes. “I want you.”

He chuckles softly, his hands sliding down to the waistband of her panties, his fingers hooking into the lace. “Then you’ll have me” he murmurs, his voice filled with promise. “All of me.”

He pulls her lace bra and panties down, his hands moving with a slow, deliberate sensuality that makes her gasp. He turns her to face him, his eyes locking onto hers as he lifts her up, his strength evident in the ease with which he handles her. He places her gently on his lap, her legs straddling his waist, his hands gripping her hips.

He leans in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, almost reverent kiss. “I love you” he whispers, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

She freezes for a moment, her eyes widening in surprise. But then she smiles, a soft, genuine smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “I love you too” she whispers back, her voice filled with emotion.

Aemond feels a surge of relief, of happiness, and he pulls her closer, kissing her deeply, passionately. They lose themselves in each other, in the feel of their bodies pressed together, in the rhythm of the music playing softly in the background.

“You’re mine” he whispers, his voice filled with a possessive intensity. “And I’m yours. Always.”

She nods, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “Always” she whispers back, her voice filled with love, with promise.

Aemond smiles, pulling her into another deep, passionate kiss, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

He caresses her naked body, feels shivers. His large and warm hands, his long fingers make her feel everything: love, excitement, security. "What do you want, princess?" he murmurs making her lie down on the leather sofa. She pants against his lips, Aemond presses his forehead against hers. "So beautiful" Feeling her writhing under his touch, he kisses her neck and makes her let out a low moan, a little shiver that runs along his spine. His hands go down from her neck to her swollen breasts, taking them in his hands and torturing her sensitive nipples. Aemond loves those evenings so quiet and filled only with their love, both away from work, just the two of them.

"Aemond" her name comes from his lips like a prayer. He feels her relax, melt, his hands grabbed her legs opening them. Aemond immediately notices how wet she is, he sees her pussy shiny and wet with her juices, he caresses her skin so smooth and inviting, his hand disappears between her legs and a particularly loud moan fills the room. Two fingers slide inside her that her back, she maintains eye contact with her boyfriend. His princess pants and moves to meet the fingers, the gentle but insistent touch of Aemond never slows down and with the other hand he holds her still on the hips. She was so beautiful, wet and excited just for him.

"Oh Aemond!" she whispers, arching her back, her body shaking from the thrusts of his long fingers that alternate between pushing inside her and rotating circles on her clit, out of breath she begs him. She is about to break under him, but Aemond pulls his fingers from her, a gasp of disapproval leaves her lips, but he has other plans for his good girl.

He lies between her legs, kisses her inner thigh and soon his long tongue is between her thighs before sliding along her opening and licking her. She pants, writhing and enjoying her boyfriend's mouth on her. She didn't care about modesty, she just wanted to sin as much as I would allow her. "My good girl" Aemond whispers, before continuing to lick her. He goes much deeper, the moans of pure pleasure escape her lips at the feeling of his mouth on her, the act so absolutely sinful and debauched. She finds the strength to raise herself on her elbows, to look at her lover with her lips shiny and swollen. Aemond loved giving her pleasure, he loved seeing her so sensitive and submissive to him and to the pleasure that only he could give her. slowly with his tongue he fucks her, her legs tighten around his face and he is so happy to suffocate between those thighs. He feels her wet, aroused, her clit throbs from how sensitive it is. He feels her, she is about to come and he lets her come on his tongue, tasting his sweet princess.

She is shaken by the orgasm, the sofa beneath her is wet as are her thighs. "We are not finished, princess" Aemond murmurs, pulling away from her, still deeply excited and shaken by the orgasm. Her thighs rub against each other to ease the pain, her fingers grab him by the end of the black pants she is wearing. Aemond looked at her naked body as if he were admiring a god, his purple eyes shining hungry: she naked, hair loose, excited, wet just for him with her billion-dollar necklace hanging around her neck. "You are so perfect I can hardly believe you are mine" he leans over her to kiss her, she can feel herself on his lips. "Let's make love" she whispers clinging to his neck".

Aemond's lips trail slowly down her neck, the heat between them building to a fever pitch. Their bodies move in sync, every touch, every kiss deepening the connection that pulses like a live wire between them. He whispers sweet words against her skin—his "Good girl," his "princess"—and each endearment sends a shiver through her, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She arches into him, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he groans, the sound low and deep in his throat.

He shifts, lifting her effortlessly, and carries her to the bed. The city lights filter through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across their intertwined forms. Aemond lowers her gently onto the silk sheets, his eyes never leaving hers. He pauses for a moment, just taking her in—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. She’s beautiful, breathtaking, and all his.

He leans down, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, his hands exploring every curve, every inch of her. She moans softly, her body responding to his touch, her hips moving instinctively against him. He withdraws, just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with desire, but also with something sweeter, something deeper. She undresses him from his shirt, he removes his pants and boxers in one motion. He unwraps his silvery hair, she strokes it. Her princess loves her boyfriend and his body so much: Aemond is tall, a toned body and dry, defined muscles, veiny hands, long, veiny arms, the v-line marking his hips and closing in on a long, veiny, hard, pre-cum shiny-tipped cock. “Take me like this, take me raw” she whispers. “Skin on skin, I want to feel you.”

Aemon leans back again, his kisses deep and consuming, his hands gentle but firm as he moves on her, their bodies become one. The outside world fades away and all that exists is this moment, this connection between them.

The music from earlier is a faint echo in the background, the haunting melody of the saxophone weaves around them like a spell, binding them together. She is warm, wet, tight. Aemond kisses her, she adds her tongue to it. “I love you,” he whispers as he begins to move slowly inside her, unable to hold back her little moans. He lifts up a little and she sees his warm gaze travel over her body, watching her lips parting, her breasts moving with each thrust he gives, watching even the spot where they are joined.

She responds with a breathless moan, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. They move together, faster now, the intensity building, the air between them charged with electricity.

Aemond groans deeply his hips suddenly collide harder against hers. It is too beautiful, too heavenly. The sound of their skins rubbing and filling the room, along with our moans and the music in the background is pure heaven. Her red nails scratch all over his back making him moan, he bites her lips his forehead glued to his good girl's and her long hair frames his face.

Their lovemaking is slow and passionate, a dance of tenderness and urgency. Aemond's touches are both reverent and demanding, his body moving with hers in a rhythm that seems both new and ancient. She whispers his name, a breathy whisper that pushes him closer to the edge. He murmurs words of love, of adoration, his voice a low growl against her ear.

“A good girl,” he whispers, her breath warm against his skin. “My princess. All mine.”

Aemond feels her: her pussy tightens around his cock. “Shh” he hisses, "Come for me, cum around me"she moans in his ear and he gives her a few thrusts as she comes around him, Aemond kisses her coming inside her.

“I love you, I love you, I love you"

Their release, is a gasp of shared pleasure that echoes in the silent room, their bodies shaking in unison.

"I love you, my love" she smiles.

Afterward, they lie together in a tangled mess of limbs, their breaths coming in slow, steady waves as they come down from the high. Aemond pulls her close, his arm wrapping around her waist, holding her against him. She rests her head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

For a while, neither of them speaks, content to just be in this moment, to savor the warmth of each other’s bodies. The room is filled with a soft, comforting silence, the kind that speaks volumes without a single word.

Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice a soft murmur against her hair. “You’re everything to me” he says, his fingers gently brushing her back. “I hope you know that.”

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with emotion, and nods. “I do” she whispers, her voice soft but firm. “And you’re everything to me too, Aemond.”

He smiles, a rare, genuine smile that lights up his face. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of her, the scent of her.

They lie there, wrapped up in each other, the city outside moving on, but for them, time seems to stand still. She nestles closer to him, her eyes drifting shut, feeling safe, content, loved.

Aemond watches her, his heart swelling with an emotion he can’t quite name. He’s never felt this way before, never felt so connected to another person, so complete. He knows he’d do anything for her, anything to keep her by his side, to protect her, to love her.

“Sleep, my princess” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiles softly, her eyes fluttering closed, and she falls asleep in his arms, a soft, peaceful expression on her face. Aemond holds her close, his own eyes growing heavy, and for the first time in a long time, he feels truly at peace.

As he drifts off to sleep, the last notes of "Careless Whisper" fade into the night, the melody a lingering echo in the air, a perfect soundtrack to the quiet, beautiful moment they’ve just shared.

They love each other so much.

[goddessofvalyria]

The sailor and the singer | Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Summary: The sailor Tom Bennet meet his best friend's sister, a singer with angelic voice.

TW and notes: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, sexual tension, oral (f receiving), fingering, SMUT, virginity loss, sex, Tom calls her "Miss", "Good girl", her brother is called William.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

The sound of the ship's engines was a low, constant hum, reverberating through the metal corridors of the HMS Exeter. It was a familiar sound to the men aboard, a comforting background noise as they went about their duties. Tonight, however, there was an air of excitement that buzzed through the ship like an electric current.

Word had spread quickly: the ENSA had sent performers to entertain the crew. It was a rare treat, a chance to forget about the war for a few hours and enjoy some music, laughter, and perhaps even a glimpse of a pretty face.

As the makeshift stage was set up in one of the ship's larger compartments, sailors jostled for the best view, their faces eager and expectant. The room was dimly lit, the overhead lights casting a soft glow over the gathered crowd.

In the corner, Tom Bennett leaned against a bulkhead, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He was tall and lean, with a lazy grin that seemed permanently etched onto his face. His blonde short hair was slightly tousled, his uniform slightly less neat than regulation required. He watched the proceedings with a bemused expression, taking a drag from his cigarette and exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"What's got you so interested, Bennett?" one of his mates asked, nudging him with an elbow.

Tom smirked. "Just wondering what kind of show the ENSA has sent us this time. Last one was a bloody disaster."

The sailor laughed. "That was your fault, you know. You made the poor girl forget her lines."

"Not my fault she couldn't handle a bit of charm" Tom replied with a shrug.

The crowd suddenly quieted as a figure stepped onto the small stage. Tom's smirk faded, his attention caught by the sight before him. A young woman stood there, holding a microphone with a confidence that belied her slender frame. She wore a long silk elegant dress, her long hair styled in soft waves that framed her face. Her eyes were bright, her lips were red, her smile warm as she gazed out at the sea of faces before her.

Tom's heart skipped a beat. There was something about her, something familiar.

She took a deep breath, and then she began to sing.

Her voice was clear and sweet, carrying over the noise of the engines, filling the room with a haunting melody that seemed to seep into the very bones of the ship. The sailors were captivated, their usual boisterousness subdued as they listened, enraptured.

Tom found himself staring, unable to look away. He felt a strange pull in his chest, a mixture of longing and recognition. He had seen her before, he was sure of it. But where? He was sure she was from Manchester, his hometown.

When her song ended, there was a moment of stunned silence before the room erupted into applause and cheers. The young woman smiled, a slight blush coloring her cheeks, and gave a small curtsy.

Tom took one last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out against the bulkhead. He pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes never leaving her as she stepped off the stage and disappeared into the shadows behind it.

He found her standing alone in the small corridor backstage, her back to him as she caught her breath. He approached quietly, his footsteps nearly silent against the metal floor.

"That was quite a performance" he said, his voice low and smooth.

She turned around, startled. Her eyes widened as she saw him, and for a moment, she looked as though she might bolt.

But then she relaxed, her expression softening into a smile. "Thank you" she replied. "I hope it was worth sneaking away from your duties for."

Tom chuckled. "Well, when a bloke hears that an angel's aboard his ship, he's got to come and see for himself, doesn't he?"

She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her smile. "Is that your usual line, then?"

He grinned. "Only when it's true."

She laughed, a soft, musical sound that sent a shiver down his spine. She introduced herself extending a hand.

He took it, his grip firm but gentle. "Tom Bennett. Pleasure to meet you, miss."

Her smile faltered slightly, and she glanced down, as if gathering her thoughts. "I think you know my brother" she said softly. "William"

Tom's grin faded, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "Will's your brother?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She nodded. "He told me about you. Said you are his best friend."

Tom's expression softened, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, Will and I are best friend, your brother is crazy" he said. "I know he's so... stubborn and he talks a lot."

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. "In his letters he don't talk much about the war, but he always speak highly of you. Said you are like a brother to him."

Tom swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. "He is a good man" he said quietly. "The best mate for all the adventures we had in Manchester. It's strange that we've never met"

"I was living in London with an aunt to study music"

For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of their shared loss hanging between them. Then she looked up, her eyes meeting his.

"Thank you for take care of my brother" she said softly. "I know he isn't happy to see me here, but he's the only piece of my family that remain."

Tom nodded, unable to find the words. He cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. "So, is this that brings you to the HMS Exeter, Miss?" he asked, his usual cocky grin returning. "Surely you didn't come all this way just to serenade a bunch of scruffy sailors."

Eleanor laughed again, the sound like a balm to his soul. "Yes, I joined the ENSA to be closer to him" she admitted. "I wanted to be where he was."

Tom's grin softened into a smile. "Well, I'm glad you did. The boys could use a bit of cheering up."

"And you sailor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you need cheering up, Tom Bennett?"

He smirked, leaning in closer. "Depends" he murmured. "Are you offering?"

She shook her head, but she was smiling. "You really are incorrigible, aren't you?"

"That's what they tell me" he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you should know, Miss, I've got a soft spot for beautiful singers with angelic voices."

She blushed, but there was a spark in her eyes now, a challenge. "And I've got a soft spot for cheeky sailors who think they're God's gift to women" she shot back.

Tom laughed, a deep, genuine sound that seemed to echo through the corridor. "I think you and I are going to get along just fine" he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

She smiled, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time. "I think so too" she agreed. "But not underestimate me, I'm quite smart and surely not the good and innocent girl that I seem."

And in that moment, amidst the noise of the ship and the distant rumble of war, they both felt a flicker of hope—a small, bright flame that promised to burn even in the darkest of times.

The week at sea seemed to stretch and blur into a haze of routines and anticipation. Each day, the sailors went about their duties under the relentless sun, and each night, they gathered again for the one moment of reprieve they had come to cherish: the singer performances. The small makeshift stage had become a beacon of light amid the vast expanse of the ocean, and her voice, like a siren’s call, brought comfort to the weary men aboard the HMS Exeter.

Tom Bennett was always there, leaning casually against the back wall, his sharp eyes following her every move. He watched as she commanded the small crowd with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, her voice weaving a spell that wrapped around him tighter with each passing night.

Will, her brother, began to notice Tom’s presence more acutely. During the day, he would catch Tom glancing in the direction of the ENSA quarters, or hear him asking the others if they were going to watch the performance that evening. At first, Will found it amusing. But as the nights went on, he couldn’t ignore the growing suspicion gnawing at him.

“Enjoying the shows, are you?” Will asked casually one evening, as he and Tom shared a cigarette on the deck.

Tom grinned, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette. “I’d be daft not to, wouldn’t I? It’s not every day you get to hear a voice like that.”

Will’s eyes narrowed slightly, searching Tom’s face. “It’s just her voice, then?”

Tom shrugged, his expression neutral but his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What else would it be?”

Will smirked, shaking his head. “You’d better not be getting any ideas, Bennett. She’s my sister, and she’s here to do a job, not to get tangled up with some sailor and especially not you, I know the type of man you are...”

Tom raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just there for the music, mate.”

Will nodded, but the look he gave Tom was skeptical, his protective instincts clearly on high alert.

That night, her performance was more captivating than ever. Her voice seemed to float above the gathered men like a soft breeze, carrying with it a sense of longing and hope that tugged at Tom’s heart. He watched her intently, his eyes tracing the curve of her lips as she sang, the way her fingers brushed against the microphone stand.

When the performance ended, the sailors erupted into applause, their cheers filling the room. The singer gave a small bow, her cheeks flushed with pleasure and exhaustion. She stepped off the stage and slipped into the shadows, as she always did, to return to her cabin.

Tom was quick to follow. He moved through the crowd with practiced ease, his steps silent against the metal floor. He kept his distance, watching as she turned down a narrow corridor that led to the cabins assigned to the ENSA performers. She walked with a graceful stride, her head held high, but he could see the slight tension in her shoulders, the way she glanced around as if sensing his presence.

When she reached her cabin door, she paused. Her hand hovered over the handle, and then she turned, her eyes narrowing as they met his in the dim light.

“What do you think you’re doing, Tom?” she whispered, her voice low but not unkind.

Tom stopped, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “Just making sure our angel gets back to her cloud safely.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a spark of amusement in them. “You’re going to attract attention if you keep following me like this.”

“Then let me in” he murmured, taking a step closer. “Unless you want the whole ship to start talking.”

She hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. She glanced down the corridor, then back at him. “Fine. But just for a minute.”

She opened the door and slipped inside, and Tom followed, closing it quietly behind him. The cabin was small, barely large enough for the narrow bed and the little table beside it. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, warm light over the room.

Eleanor leaned back against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, watching him with a wary expression. “What do you want, Tom?”

He took a step toward her, his eyes locked on hers. “You know what I want” he said softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

She swallowed, her heart racing. “And what is that?”

He closed the distance between them in one smooth, fluid motion, his hands coming to rest on either side of her against the wall. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her cheek. “You” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

Her s breath hitched. She could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of tobacco and the sea on his skin. Her mind was spinning, a thousand thoughts racing through her head, but none of them made sense. All she could think about was the way he was looking at her, the intensity in his eyes, the way his lips were so close to hers.

“Tom…” she began, but her voice trailed off, her resolve crumbling under his gaze.

He didn’t wait for her to finish. His lips were on hers in an instant, capturing her in a kiss that was fierce and hungry, filled with a fire that had been smoldering for days. She gasped against his mouth, her hands instinctively reaching up to clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer.

The world outside the cabin seemed to disappear, the noise of the ship and the ocean fading into nothing. All that existed was the heat of his mouth on hers, the press of his body against hers, the way his hands moved to her waist, pulling her even closer.

Tom kissed her with a passion that left her breathless, his lips moving against hers with a hunger that bordered on desperation. She could feel the thud of his heart against her chest, the way his fingers dug into her hips, anchoring her to him as if he were afraid she might disappear.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. Eleanor’s eyes fluttered open, and she found herself staring into his, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

“Tom, Tommy” she whispered, her voice shaky. "If my brother see us...”

He shook his head, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I know,” he murmured. “But damn it, I can’t help myself.”

She bit her lip, torn between the intoxicating pull of his touch and the voice in her head telling her this was a bad idea. “What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice barely more than a breath.

He smiled, a slow, wicked grin that made her heart skip a beat. “I want you” he said again, his voice rough with desire. “All of you”

She closed her eyes, a thousand emotions crashing over her like waves against the hull of the ship. She knew this was reckless, that it would only lead to heartache. But the feel of his lips on hers, the way his hands held her like she was something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of… it was more than she could resist.

“All right” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Just… just for tonight.”

Tom’s smile widened, and he kissed her again, softer this time, but with no less intensity. As his lips moved against hers, she felt herself melting into him, the last of her reservations slipping away like sand through her fingers.

Tom’s lips moved over hers with a fervor that left her breathless, his hands skimming over the fabric of her dress, feeling the delicate curve of her waist beneath. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, her body responding instinctively to his touch. She’d never felt like this before—never felt her blood race so fast, her skin burn so hot, her heart pound so wildly in her chest.

He pulled away slightly, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against hers. “Tell me to stop” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a mix of need and restraint. “Tell me to leave, and I will.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. She could feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained desire in his touch. And yet, beneath it all, there was something else—a tenderness, a carefulness that surprised her. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was holding himself back, waiting for her to decide.

But her body had already made the decision for her. She shook her head slowly, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t stop” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. “Please, Tom… don’t stop.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he kissed her again, more urgently this time, his hands moving to the buttons of her dress. Her heart raced as he undid them one by one, his fingers brushing against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. She knew she should feel embarrassed, exposed—but all she felt was a heady rush of anticipation, a desperate need for his touch.

As the dress slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet, Tom stepped back for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as he took her in. She stood there in the dim light, her skin glowing softly, her breath coming in short, shaky gasps. He reached out, his fingers trailing down her arm, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“You’re… you’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes dropping to the floor. “I… I’ve never…” she began, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Tom’s gaze softened, his hand lifting to cup her cheek. “I know” he said gently, his thumb brushing over her skin. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

She shook her head, her eyes meeting his again, filled with a mix of fear and longing. “No… I want to” she whispered. “I want this. I want… you, Tommy.”

For a moment, Tom just stared at her, his eyes searching hers as if looking for any sign of hesitation. But all he saw was determination, a resolve that took his breath away. He leaned in, capturing her lips in another deep, searing kiss, his hands moving over her body with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his touch.

Slowly, carefully, he guided her toward the narrow bed, his lips never leaving hers. They stumbled slightly, their movements awkward in the confined space, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was the feel of each other, the desperate need to be closer, to feel skin against skin, heart against heart.

Tom’s hands moved with a practiced ease, slipping beneath the thin straps of her undergarments, peeling them away until there was nothing between them but the heat of their bodies. She gasped, her skin prickling with goosebumps as he traced a path down her spine, his lips following the trail of his fingers.

"Lean back against the pillow" he whispered as he drove. "Open your legs for me" their lips touched. She nodded and responded with a kiss, Tom's fingers caressing her warm skin and soon disappeared into her cunt. She caressed his bare chest, tracing with his fingers the naked skin, the outline of the toned and defined muscles, the veins of her arms. He continued to kiss her, making her melt as his fingers caressed her wet slit.

"Open your eyes" he whispered with a sweetness that had never belonged to him. He caressed her slit starting to play with her wet folds, she found herself panting on Tom's lips when two fingers opened her. "Look at you, you're beautiful" he whispered penetrating her with his middle finger and ring finger.

"Tommy" she pressed herself against him who in response began to tease her clit with slow circles. "My good girl" he praised her admiring her naked body: so beautiful, so… angelic. He continued to move his fingers, preparing her for what would come next. He saw his singer lost in the most absolute pleasure and slowly began to kiss her on her naked breast, sucking on her nipple and slowly moving his lips down her body, causing her to shiver and tremble.

"Look at me" Tom looked at her from under his lashes, his hands parted her thighs and he brought one of her legs to his shoulder. Lying on the bed, despite the little space, Tom was between her legs, his lips depositing hot and humid kisses on her womanhood and then with his tongue he grazed her sensitive clit, she gasped and slipped her hands into his blond hair.

A smirk formed on Tom's face, he began to pleasure her with his tongue, licking her between her soaking folds, torturing her clit and then invading her slit and making her feel such a strong sensation of pleasure that she arched her back. "Tommy…" she whispered panting. "Tommy, Tommy, Oh god!" her sounds of pleasure were like music to her ears, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.

Tom continued to lick her again and again until his beautiful singer found herself panting with a hand over her lips so as not to be discovered. Tom grinned, got up on his knees and finished undressing. She was reduced to a mess, shaking and so aroused. Her hair was loose, spread over her body she looked like in a painting.

"Tom…" she whispered when she saw him take his cock in his hand. "It won't fit" she murmured nervously. "You're…" "Big?" he said with a proud and cheeky smile.

His breath caught, his eyes meeting hers with a fierce intensity. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I swear to you… I’ll be gentle.”

She nodded, her fingers curling into his shoulders as he lowered her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers. The room seemed to close in around them, the air thick with heat and the scent of the sea. She felt every inch of him, every muscle, every breath, and she knew there was no turning back.

He moved with a slow, careful precision, his touch light and soothing as he guided her through the unfamiliar sensations. She gasped, her body tensing at the unfamiliar intrusion, but he murmured soft reassurances, his lips brushing against her ear, her neck, her collarbone. Tom pushed himself inside her, his cock invading her thightm wet and soaking pussy. "

Tommy" she moaned quiet.

“It’s okay” he whispered, his voice a low, calming murmur. “Just breathe… I’ve got you.”

She nodded, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as she tried to relax, to focus on the feel of him, the warmth of his skin, the steady rhythm of his heart against hers. Slowly, the tension began to ease, her body softening beneath him, her mind drifting in a haze of sensation.

Tom iniziò a muoversi dentro di lei, his hips rocking gently against hers, his breath hot and ragged against her cheek. She gasped, her fingers digging into his back, her body arching instinctively to meet his. There was a brief moment of discomfort, a sharp sting of pain that made her wince. "It's all okay" he reassured her, but then it was gone, replaced by a warmth that spread through her like wildfire, igniting every nerve, every cell, every part of her.

Tom groaned, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as he felt her body respond to his. He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers, his hands roaming over her body, exploring every inch of her with a reverence that made her heart ache. She could feel the fire building inside her, a slow, steady burn that grew hotter with every thrust, every touch, every whispered word.

And then, all at once, it was too much. "Tommy" she cried out, her body tensing, her nails digging into his skin as the heat inside her exploded, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her. "Cum for me, my good girl" he whispered still moving inside her. She was so sensible, her clit was again pinched in his fingers and he cummed over all his coock while kissing him in a desperate, hot and messy kiss with tongue. "My goog girl" Tom followed soon after, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips as he found his release between her thights but not inside, his body shuddering against hers.

For a long moment, they lay there, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the still, heavy air. Her heart was racing, her mind spinning, her body tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure. She felt Tom’s weight on top of her, solid and reassuring, and she realized with a start that she felt… safe. Safe and whole in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Tom slowly lifted his head, his eyes searching hers, his expression soft and tender. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m… I’m more than all right” she said softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “That was… that was perfect.”

He smiled, a slow, satisfied grin that made her heart skip a beat. “You were” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

They lay there in the dim light, their bodies tangled together, their hearts still racing. The cabin was warm, the air thick with the scent of salt and sweat and something else—something sweet and intoxicating that seemed to linger in the space between them.

As the minutes passed, a soft, golden light began to filter through the small window of the cabin. She turned her head, her eyes widening as she saw the first rays of dawn breaking over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange and gold.

“Look” she whispered, her voice filled with awe. “The sun… it’s rising.”

Tom turned his head, his breath catching as he saw the beauty outside the window. “It’s beautiful but not beautiful as you” he murmured, his arm tightening around her waist, pulling her closer.

The soft light of dawn cast a golden glow over the small cabin, wrapping Tom and her in its warm embrace. They lay in silence, watching the sunrise through the tiny window, the world outside coming to life as the darkness of night gave way to the vibrant colors of the morning. Tom’s heart was still racing from the intensity of their sex, his body humming with the afterglow, but there was something else too—something deeper, a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

He turned his head to look at his singer, her face illuminated by the soft morning light. She looked peaceful, her eyes half-closed, her lips slightly parted in a soft smile. He could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest against his, the warmth of her body pressed against his own, and for a moment, he felt a strange, unexpected sense of contentment wash over him.

But then, like a shadow passing over the sun, a flicker of doubt crept into his mind. This was all so new, so unexpected. And once they were back home, away from the endless sea and the isolated reality of the ship, what would happen to them? Would this fleeting moment of passion simply fade away, or could it turn into something more?

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her more closely. “When we get back home… would you—would you go out with me? On a date?” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. “A date?” she echoed, a smile tugging at her lips. “You mean… like a proper date... you with me?”

Tom nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah, a proper date. Dinner, maybe a dance… something normal. Something… real.”

Her smile widened, a soft, warm laugh escaping her lips. “I’d love that, Tom” she said, her voice filled with genuine happiness. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Relief washed over him, and he found himself smiling back at her. But then, as quickly as it came, a wave of worry followed, tightening his chest. “But what if…” he started, his brow furrowing. “What if things change when we’re back? What if you realize this was just a moment, just… just the sea and the stars playing tricks on us?”

She reached up, her hand gently cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “Tommy” she whispered, her eyes searching his. “What happened between us wasn’t just a moment. It was real for me. And whatever happens when we get back, I want to find out what this could be. With you.”

He gazed at her, the sincerity in her eyes making his heart swell. “But what if... you know the war, your brother, fuck, he's gonna fucking kill me—”

She silenced him with a kiss, her lips soft and warm against his. It wasn’t like their earlier kisses, filled with fiery passion and desperate need. This one was slow, tender, filled with a love and reassurance that went deeper than words could express. She poured everything into that kiss, all her hopes, her fears, her longing for something more.

Tom felt something shift inside him, a warmth spreading through his chest, right over his heart. It was a strange, almost overwhelming sensation, like a tight knot loosening, a door opening. He’d always been good at keeping his guard up, at hiding behind his cocky smile and his easy charm. But with her, he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been in a very long time.

When she finally pulled back, he was breathless, his eyes searching hers. “I… I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but—” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him again. “You don’t have to know” she whispered, her eyes soft and understanding. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now. All I know is that I want to be with you, Tom. And whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

He stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the sincerity in her words, the quiet strength in her gaze, and he knew then that this was different. She was different. And maybe—just maybe—he was different, too.

“Okay” he said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Together.”

She smiled, a beautiful, radiant smile that seemed to light up the entire cabin. “Together,” she agreed, and then she kissed him again, her lips soft and warm against his.

Tom felt that strange, wonderful sensation in his chest again, a feeling that made his heart swell with something he hadn’t felt in years. He didn’t know what the future held, or what would happen when they finally returned to shore. But in that moment, with her in his arms and the sun rising over the endless expanse of the sea, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

He only cared for her singer and she only cared for his sailor.

[goddessofvalyria]

WITCH QUEEN | Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader.

Summary: Aemond Targaryen met a witch at Harrenhal, the two fell in love and thanks to her help, the Greens won the war. But in the end with Aegon dead it was Aemond who succeeded his brother and was crowned king at the Dragonpit with the crown of the Conqueror. He married his witch with the Valyrian marriage, making her his witch queen.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, she is a witch from Essos, described as very beautiful, intelligent and charming, with long black hair and eyes. Since they met in Harrenhal, the witch takes Alys's place. Sexual themes: Oral (f receiving), masturbation (f receiving) SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, they conceive their sixth child.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 3333

Aemond Targaryen, during his time at Harrenhal, encountered a witch who was strikingly beautiful, intelligent, and charming, with long black hair and charming black eyes. The two fell deeply in love, with her Aemond and the Greens were able to win the war.

After the death of his brother Aegon, Aemond ascended the iron throne and was crowned king at the Dragonpit, wearing the crown of Aegon the Conqueror. He married the witch through a traditional Valyrian ceremony, making her his queen.

Now, Aemond reigns as the King of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, living a happy and peaceful life with his witch queen and their children at the Red Keep.

On a quiet day in the Red Keep, Aemond Targaryen lay on the bed beside his queen witch, their laughter echoing softly through the room. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the chamber. Their four children Aegon, Visenya, Daemon and Daenys, surrounded them with a sense of playful excitement. Little Maegor, the youngest, was still nestled in his cradle, cooing softly.

Aemond, his long silver hair unbound, chuckled as his children clamored around him, eager to braid his hair. "All right, all right" he said with a grin, surrendering to their demands. "Who will go first?"

"Me!" Aegon declared, his violet eyes sparkling with determination. He clambered onto the bed and began to carefully braid a small section of his father's hair.

Visenya watched her brother with an amused smile. "You're doing it all wrong, Aegon" she teased. "Let me show you how it's done."

Aemond exchanged a glance with his witch, his eyes filled with warmth and love. "What do you think, my queen? Shall we let them continue their assault on my hair?"

She laughed softly, her fingers tracing patterns on his arm. "I think you're in good hands, my king" she replied, her voice full of affection. "Besides, you're a wonderful dad. Let them have their fun."

Daemon, not wanting to be left out, climbed up and grabbed another section of Aemond's hair. "I'm going to make a warrior braid" he announced proudly.

Daenys, the youngest of the group, giggled as she climbed into her mother's lap and took a small handful of her long hair. The witch queen hair was long and wavy, reaching to her knees, the child trying to imitate her brothers. The witch stroked her hair, letting her play. "Be gentle, little one" she whispered, stroking her cheek. "Yes mummy"

Aemond smiled down at his children, his heart full of love.

The witch queen watched the scene with a contented smile, her heart swelling with love for her family. "You know" she said softly, "These are the moments that matter most."

Aemond nodded, his gaze lingering on his children. "Yes, my queen, my love" he agreed, "These quiet, simple moments are what make everything worthwhile."

As the children continued to braid and play, Maegor stirred in his cradle, letting out a small cry. The queen rose to tend to him, gently scooping him into her arms and soothing him with a soft lullaby.

Aemond watched her, his heart full. "We are blessed, my love" he murmured, his eye never leaving her. "Blessed beyond measure."

She looked up at him, her violet eyes shining. "Yes" she whispered, "We are, my love"

Together, they sat surrounded by their children, basking in the simple joy of a peaceful day—a king and his witch queen, bound by love, and the promise of a bright future for their family.

That night, as the Red Keep settled into a quiet stillness, Aemond and his witch queen lay together in their bed, the soft glow of candlelight flickering around them. She rested her head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. Aemond’s arm wrapped around her, holding her close, his fingers idly tracing patterns along her back. For a moment, they simply lay in silence, content in each other’s presence. But the stillness of the night brought with it memories of a time when peace seemed an impossible dream.

"Do you ever think about it?" she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper in the dark. "The war?"

Aemond’s gaze drifted to the ceiling, his mind wandering back to those days of fire and blood, of betrayal and loss. "I do" he admitted, his voice a low murmur. "More often than I care to."

She lifted her head slightly to look up at him, her violet eyes searching his face. "Do you regret any of it?" she asked, her voice gentle but laced with curiosity.

Aemond was silent for a moment, his jaw tensing as he considered her question. "I regret nothing" he said finally. His gaze darkening with the weight of the past. "And I do not regret the choices that led me to you."

Her lips curved into a small, sad smile. "Though the path was filled with shadows, it brought us here, to this moment, to this life we've built together."

Aemond’s hand moved to gently stroke her hair, the silver strands mingling with her dark locks. "We were forged in fire" he said softly. "In the crucible of war. And yet, we emerged stronger… together."

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his words wash over her. "I still remember the first time I saw you" she murmured. "At Harrenhal. I knew then that our fates were entwined."

Aemond smiled faintly, his eyes softening at the memory. "And I knew that you were more than you seemed" he replied. "A witch from Essos, yes, but so much more… my guiding star in the darkness."

She chuckled softly. "A queen witch" she corrected, her tone light, though her heart swelled with love. "Your queen witch"

Aemond’s smile widened, a rare softness in his expression. "My queen" he agreed. "The light that led me through the darkest nights."

They fell into a comfortable silence again, their thoughts lingering on the past but finding solace in the present. The horrors of the war seemed a lifetime ago, a distant memory overshadowed by the love and peace they now shared.

She smiled against his chest, her heart steady and calm. The witch queen was so in love with his husband.

Aemond lay in the quiet of their bedchamber, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls. He could feel the warmth of his witch queen beside him, her head resting on his chest, her breath slow and steady as she listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. The comfort of their closeness should have put him at ease, but his thoughts drifted to a lingering insecurity.

He stared at the ceiling, his hand absentmindedly brushing against the leather eyepatch he wore. Aemond had grown accustomed to the feel of it, to the weight of the past it carried. Yet, he had never grown used to the thought of his children seeing him without it. He feared what they might think—the fear they might feel at the sight of his scarred, empty socket, a reminder of the violence and pain he had endured.

Sensing his unease, she lifted her head, her violet eyes filled with concern. "What troubles you, my love?" she asked softly, her fingers gently tracing his jawline.

Aemond hesitated for a moment, then sighed, turning his gaze away from her. "I worry" he admitted quietly. "About our children… seeing me like this. Without the patch."

She reached up and touched his cheek, guiding his face back toward her. "They are your children, Aemond" she whispered, her voice filled with love. "They see you as their father, their protector. Not as a man with a scar."

He shook his head slightly. "But what if they fear me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. "What if they see the monster I see when I look in the mirror?"

Her heart ached at his words. She leaned up and kissed him gently, her lips soft against his. "You are no monster" she whispered against his lips. "You are a warrior, a king… a father who loves his children more than anything. They see your strength, your courage. They see the man I see—the man I love."

Aemond closed his eye, letting her words wash over him, feeling the warmth of her love seep into his soul. "You have always seen the best in me" he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Even when I could not."

She smiled softly, her fingers brushing through his silver hair. "Because there is so much to love in you" she replied. "And our children will see that too, in time."

He looked at her then, his gaze filled with a deep longing, a desire that had been growing within him. "Another child" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I want another child with you."

Her breath caught at his words, a smile spreading across her lips. "You want to expand our family?" she asked, her voice filled with love.

He nodded, his eye searching hers. "Yes, he said softly. "I want to see our children grow, to see them thrive in the peace we have fought so hard to secure. I want to build a future with you, a future filled with love and laughter… and more children if you want."

She felt a swell of emotion in her chest, her heart overflowing with love for the man beside her.

Aemond’s expression softened, his lips curving into a tender smile. He pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a deep, passionate kiss. They lost themselves in the warmth of each other’s embrace, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony, their love consuming them.

Aemond kissed her in a passionate, dirty, hot kiss, his hands tightened around his witch queen's face, their lips devouring each other with each kiss, biting and their tongues, intertwined. "Tell me you want it, my love" Aemond whispered with his forehead resting on hers. "I want to make another baby with you, Aemond" she replied placing her hands on her husband's bare chest. "My husband" his witch queen whispered brushing his lips. "Let's do it, let's make another baby" she whispered in his ear.

She kissed his neck, her full lips wet and warm making Aemond wince. The witch traced a trail with her long nails up Aemond's spine. He shivered, she continued to kiss his skin, moving down to his chest and licking his warm skin. "My wife wants her husband mh?" he took her face with one hand. "And my husband wants his wife?" she teased him.

"He wants her so much," she continued, playing along. "He wants to fuck her until he fills her up with his seed, make sure he gets her pregnant and that in nine months a new life can come into the world." She looked at him with eyes full of love and perversion, Aemond kissed her again and in an unkind gesture he tore off her nightgown. Her sweet wife naked in front of him was so beautiful and he was sure that she between her thighs was soaked.

His witch queen looked at him so dominant over her, she felt excited, wet between her thighs. "Mmh my husband…" she whispered, rising on her knees, Aemond lost her in his arms, caressing her body with his hands, his long fingers making her wriggle. Her back resting against his chest, his hand caressed her neck, went down to her breasts, along her side and then two fingers slid between her legs, caressing her intimacy. "Ao sagon sīr gevie" (You are so beautiful) he whispered in High Valyrian. Aemond kissed her neck again, his violet eye burning on my skin and soon after she, lying in bed in her husband's arms, felt his two fingers slide inside her hot wet pussy.

She pushed her hips against his hand, feeling her legs go soft and his other hand squeezed her breast. "Aemond… Gods" she begged between moans. Aemond kissed her neck again before increasing the speed of his fingers inside her.

"Let me take care of you first, my love" Aemond whispered. "Lie on your back" he whispered releasing her hands and moving between her legs. He kissed her skin, moving with hot and wet kisses from her ankle to the inside of her thigh. His eye looked at her hungrily, his touch was hot, the sapphire shining in the dark. he spread her legs and then buried his face between them, eliciting a moan of pure pleasure from her. He starved for her sweet taste on his tongue. "Oh…. Aemond, Aemond!" He alternated between licking and sucking her clit as his fingers inside her touched and pushed deep into her wet folds. Her hips moved to meet his tongue as her moans grew louder and more frequent. She felt her legs tremble, arched her back and tightened a hand in her long silver hair. "Aemond, Aemond, Aemond!" she whispered excitedly, his nose pressing against her clit.

Aemond devoured her, licking her pussy and fucking her with his tongue. He wanted to impregnate her, but first he wanted to see her come for him. Gods, how he loved her.

Aemond continued to lick her between her thighs until they began to shake and her pussy began to contract, with one last lick he reluctantly released her and hoisted himself on top of her.

Aemond looked down, she was reduced to a mess: soaked between her thighs, wet, her juices dripping from her pussy that wanted nothing more than to be fucked. "Take me… please" she whispered arching her back, feeling his long, hard and veiny erection.

Aemond smiled excitedly, took his cock in his hand and rubbed against her. His witch queen panted, her pussy still contracting with the need to be filled. "My love" Aemond whispered sliding the pink and hard tip of his cock on her clit. "My love… I can't wait to fill you up" she whispered marrying his cock between her wet folds. "I love making love to you" Aemond whispered. "I love seeing you cry with pleasure, I love seeing you so submissive to me.. so eager for my cock" she bit her lip.

"I love it when you talk to me like that, it turns me on, husband" she whispered, opening her legs a little, feeling his cock rub against her. She gasped, unable to contain herself. It felt so good to feel that way, it felt so good… to be his. He began to fuck her, thrusts that made her move on the bed, thrusts that made her wet again and again, his cock sliding in and out rhythmically, she arched her back and aemond fucked her hungrily.

"My good girl, my witch, my sweet wifey." His tongue licked her nipple before taking it in his mouth and earning another moan from his beloved wife. Those moans made him even more excited and she between my legs felt slippery, wet, dirty from him. Her fingers still there, getting wet from her and teasing her giving her pleasure, while his cock fucked her. "Enjoy my love, take it all my love" he said between one kiss and the other. He gently took her leg bringing it to his side, she wrapped herself around his narrow waist and let herself be fucked brutally.

Aemond pushed himself into her again and again, their breathing in sync, their moans, his looks, their caresses. She lost him, he lost himself in her, they both lost themselves in those sensations that only one could give to the other. His thrusts became fast and irregular while her moans became louder. She hugged him unable to let go, inhaled his scent, I caressed his hair, kissed him with my tongue again and again unable to let go. “My love” he whispered against her lips giving her another thrust, feeling both of them close to the climax.

Aemond moaned, his hands tightened on her hips and his witch queen arched her back, feeling his hard cock touch her in a sweet spot that made her moan. his purple eye scanned every single part of his wife's pleasure-contorted face, her sweaty skin, her hair free and wild, their bodies joined "My love" he whispered continuing to push into her while moving his thumb on her clit. "Ameond… Aemond… I…" she felt herself at the peak, her pussy starting to contract, Aemond pushed into her again, took her in his arms, kissing her on the lips as she came around his cock and he, proud, emptied himself inside her filling her with his seed, making sure she took it all in every single drop.

"I love you" they whispered at the same time. "I love you, I love you, I love you" they whispered together, kissing each other as Aemond slowly pulled out from inside her, he brought a hand between his beloved's legs, caressing her and with his finger pushing inside her pussy, his seed coming out.

"You're full" he whispered, kissing her lips. "You're full of me" he whispered again, leaning down so he could rest his face on her belly. "I can't wait for her belly to swell" he whispered, kissing her. "I can't wait to fuck you and know you're pregnant with our sixth child." Aemond hugged her, bringing his arms around her body.

"Boy or girl, I'll love it" he kissed her belly. "I know you're pregnant, I never fail" he looked up and looked at her with a proud smile. "Gods my love, you're more beautiful than ever."

His witch queen brought her hand to his face, caressing his scar. "I love you Aemond, I love you with all my life." Aemond slowly rose from her body, held her in his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'll give you a child whenever you want," Aemond smiled, moving his hands to her breasts. "Gods, they'll be full soon" he whispered, teasing her nipple.

"Aemond," she whispered, feeling the pleasure rise again. "Do you want to?" he asked, lifting her onto his hips. "Mmmh…" she moaned. "And if now…" she moved a hand between their bodies, finding his cock hard again. "And if now I rode my husband as he deserves?" she whispered excitedly, her dark eyes full of desire. "For being so sure that he made me pregnant, he deserves a reward," his witch whispered, slowly moving on his hips and rising a little.

"Yes, please" he begged, letting himself be submissive. "Ride me" she let herself go down on his cock, feeling it again in her wet and dirty pussy.

“Move slowly” he whispered, bringing his hands to her hips. “Like this, like this, my love” he helped her to pick up the pace, she placed her hands on his toned chest and began to move.

Aemond groaned, his hands tightened on her body, one hand on her breasts and she chased the pleasure, moving on top of him, letting that hot dragon fire consume them. “My love, my love�� Aemond whispered submissively, enjoying the body of his beloved wife on top of his. Without any fear or shyness, she rode, Aemond teased her nipple, making her shiver, he sat up and took her in his arms, kissing her lips as she came around his cock again and he filled her with his seed again.

She went against his chest, holding each other they collapsed against the bed. Still inside her, now softer, he wouldn’t let her go. As both of their breathing slowly returned to normal, they felt a small shiver run through their bodies.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you," he replied. "And I will love our sixth little one with all my heart."

Aemond held her in his arms, his hands on her belly, caressing it. They would be parents again and for him there was no greater love than that.

[goddessofvalyria]

MANEATER | Michael Gavey x fem!reader.

Summary: The popular girl meet Michael Gavey, the nerd boy who has a crush on her at the party. This one-shot is based on "Maneater" a song by Nelly Furtado.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns (she is described very beautiful, charming and fashionable and she has a friend named Milly), she and Milly kissing for joke making Michael horny. Oral (f receiving), masturbation (f and m receiving) SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, Michael being insecure and virgin.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 5421

Oxford, 2006.

The club was located a few minutes outside Oxford University. As soon as we entered, it was a whirlwind of lights and deafening music. She and her best friend Milly arrived together and as soon as we entered, she felt all eyes on her. Sure, she was the most beautiful girl in the whole university, the most popular and also the biggest bitch. She was wearing a sparkly top and a glittery fishnet skirt, her hair left loose and a strong perfume covering her skin. She was so beautiful and confident, she walked through the crowd leaving the scent in her wake. Michael Gavey, the nerd of Oxford was there all alone. His only friend Oliver Quick had convinced him, before leaving him alone and joining Felix Catto's group. She saw immediately, his face was a mask of discomfort in the crowd, his gaze searching for something - or someone. Oliver and Felix were already drunk, a cumbersome and provocative presence, making a mess with their group of stupid friends. Michael wanted to go back to his dorm and study or maybe read something about math, he had no idea why he had agreed to go to a place where he felt out of place and uncomfortable. He was wearing a shirt and cargo pants, his sweater over his shoulders and his rectangular glasses on his face. He hated that place. He had tried to socialize, but they had all kicked him out.

Milly grabbed her friend's hand and dragged her to the dance floor. They danced to the music, trying to get lost in it, but she could still feel everyone's eyes on her and she couldn't help but appreciate it. She loved being looked at, especially by boys and their ugly, jealous girlfriends. That was shortly after, when Michael Gavey saw her. She was the most beautiful girl in all of Oxford and everyone, absolutely everyone had a crush on her. And he, like a poor fool, had fallen for it. It was enough for him to see her in the hallways of the school at the beginning of the year, her hair loose, dressed in mini skirt, a top that she wore without a bra and the trail of perfume she left when she passed in front of him. She had noticed it several times, but Michael knew that those like her were maneaters, girls who only wanted to appear and never really be. Girls like her were diabolical and in his sarcastic nerd mind, even a little slutty. It was not new that she had fucked with some boys in her math class and other rumors said that she had had a threesome with Felix Catton and Oliver Quick. But this last gossip, was just his supposition.

"She would fuck them all, if she could" Michael spat acidly, watching her dance and move her ass. She and her best friend danced almost in symbiosis, moving in sync against each other. Michael continued to watch them, but he knew the technique of those two damn girls: they acted that way to excite the boys and then fuck them in the bathrooms. One was more diabolical than the other.

She noticed, Michael Gavey was not taking his eyes off her and her best friend, so she looked at Milly. "The loser is watching us" he shouts in her ear. "Michael Gavey, the fucking nerd loser who wants to fuck?" Milly laughed.

"Yes exactly, little Mikey" she laughed. "What do you say, we make him lose his mind?" she joked. "He's looking at us like he wants to get a hand job right here and now" Milly continues. "I'm in" she agrees, so the two girls come closer and kiss with tongue. It's not the first time they've done it, in a disco, they do it almost all the time. It's their technique and it's always worked. The relationship between her and Milly is purely platonic, as they consider each other like sisters.

Michael Gavey froze when he saw them kiss. His heart skipped a beat, and his face flushed a deep crimson. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t think—his mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions, a cocktail of lust, disgust, and shame. He had heard the rumors, the whispers in the halls, and the taunting jeers from guys like Felix, but seeing it with his own eyes was something else entirely. He had known she was provocative, knew she liked the attention, but this was different. This was cruel.

The kiss between her and Milly was anything but innocent; it was a performance, deliberate and calculated. Michael’s stomach twisted as he realized they were doing it for the attention—his attention. It was as if they knew he was watching, knew he was the one fool enough to be entranced by their display. He could feel the mocking laughter bubbling up in his throat, but it was aimed at himself. He had always been the outsider, the nerd who didn’t belong, and now he was the butt of their joke.

As they pulled apart, their eyes flicked towards him, confirming his suspicions. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from her. She was laughing, that cruel, beautiful laugh that made him feel so small. He hated her in that moment, hated her for making him feel this way, for making him want something he could never have.

But even as he felt the anger rise within him, there was another emotion lurking just beneath the surface—desire. It disgusted him, this twisted need to be noticed by her, to be the focus of her attention, even if it was only to be humiliated. He cursed himself for it, but the desire was there all the same, gnawing at him, making him feel dirty and pathetic.

Michael turned away, his face burning with shame. He could still hear their laughter over the thumping bass of the music, and it felt like knives in his chest. He had to get out of there, away from the lights, the noise, and the suffocating sense of inadequacy that clung to him like a second skin. He pushed through the crowd, his movements jerky and frantic, desperate to escape the scene, to find a quiet corner where he could be alone with his humiliation.

The music pulsed around them as she and Milly continued to dance. She tried to shake off the tension, losing herself in the rhythm of the song. Milly moved closer to her, a sly smile on her face. “Sister, did you see Michael Gavey’s face when he saw us kiss?” she shouted over the music, laughing. “Damn, I bet he got horny…”

“He’s always so into studying, like having fun is a mortal sin.” She took a cigarette from her clutch and put it between her lips. Milly nodded vigorously, her smile growing wider. “That’s right! He’s such a loser. Sometimes I wonder if he even knows how to have fun, but he definitely got horny a little while ago and is probably in the bathroom jerking off.”

Milly took her hand, spinning her around. “Speaking of Michael Gavey, have you heard the gossip about him?” I raised an eyebrow, curious. “What gossip?”

“He’s a fucking virgin and he thinks you’re a whore because Oliver Quick, that bastard, spread the word that you, him and Felix Catton had a threesome.” Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Really? What the fuck, men are so pathetic when you reject them.” Milly nodded, her eyes shining with excitement at the gossip. “Yeah, it’s pretty disgusting, isn’t it? Imagine their disappointment though, you, the most beautiful girl in Oxford rejecting those two…”

“I decide which boy I fuck when and how,” she replied, visibly annoyed by the gossip. “But if you…” she immediately understood her friend’s intentions. “No!” I held up my hands as I took another cigarette from my clutch. “Not tonight.” “Seduce and fuck Michael Gavey, go ahead, make your fantasy come true. Let's see if you can loosen him up a bit," I looked at her, surprised and amused. "He disgusts me" she replied rudely. "He's a virgin and he's definitely never kissed anyone, he'd come like a boy in his pants on his first kiss."

Milly shrugged, a mischievous smile on her lips. "Why not? It could be fun, and who knows, maybe you'd discover something interesting. Maybe he's not as boring as he seems." She thought about it for a moment, the idea of ​​accepting the challenge mixed with curiosity. "Okay, I accept the challenge," I finally said, a determined smile on my face. "I'll show you that I'm not afraid."

Milly applauded, enthusiastically "Maybe you'll end up having more fun than you imagine" "With a little virgin?" she approached the aicha dancing to the music. "Who knows, maybe the little virgin has a big dick under those cargo pants and is waiting for you to teach him how to use it." "There he is, he's back," Milly said. "Go and fuck him" The challenge was on, and she knew that tonight would be just the beginning of a dangerous and intriguing game.

The music throbbed around them, adrenaline pumping through their veins. She walked over to Milly’s brother David, who was one of the DJs. “Put this on.” He gave her a knowing smile. “What are you two doing?” “We’re just having fun.” As the music changed to Nelly Furtado’s “Maneater,” she felt the energy in the room rise. She moved toward Michael, feeling everyone’s eyes on her as I made my way through the crowd. The nerd was still looking at her, visibly uncomfortable, but still excited from earlier. With a bold smile, she walked over to him and grabbed his hand.

“Come dance with me, nerd.” He looked hesitant, but before he could refuse, she dragged him onto the dance floor. The music engulfed them, and I began to move to the beat, trying to shake the rigid composure that seemed to bind him. “Honey, if you want to have fun, you’ve got the wrong guy!” From a distance, I could hear the laughter and the derisive shouts towards Michael. The boys in Felix Catton’s group were shouting something incomprehensible, but the tone was clearly provocative. He couldn’t let them ruin his fun.

Everyone’s eyes were on us, but she didn’t care and had only one mission: to make Michael Gavey, the math nerd, give in to her taunts and prove to Milly that she could have any boy she wanted. “So, Michael,” she said, walking closer to him, a provocative smile on my lips. “You…” he looked shocked, her hands on him were simply wonderful. “There are rumors about you,” Michael said stiffly. “Oh yeah? The ones that say I’m a whore? Maybe because the little nerd loser has voiced his thoughts” she moved closer to him, their faces face to face. "I know it was you, I know it was you who started spread around the university the rumor that I had a threesome with Catton and Quick" she grabbed Michael by the shirt. "But no, I didn't fuck them." Michael felt the heat of her body against his. "I think underneath all that composure there's someone who knows how to have fun, huh nerd?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “They say you’re a loser, show me you’re not.” She started dancing closer to him, their bodies in sync with the beat of the music. I turned, resting my back against his chest, my hips against his. Every move was a studied tease, every look an invitation. He could feel the tension building, but it was an electrifying tension, full of anticipation. Michael began to relax, responding to my movements. His hands settled delicately on his hips, following the beat of the music. It was clear he was giving in, giving in to the attraction between us.

“See? It’s not that hard, Mikey.” She turned, whispering the words in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. He smiled, looking down for a moment. “You nerdy little loser.” She brought her hand close to his face, tracing the outline of his jaw with her nails. “You’re horny, aren’t you?” Did you like watching me kiss my friend?"

She pulled away slightly, looking him in the eyes. "Mh?" Michael seemed ready to accept the challenge. "Tell me" she slid her hand down his chest, letting it slide down to his cargo belt. "Did you go to the bathroom to jerk off, Mikey?" She grabbed his face with one hand. "Or did you come in my boxers like a little boy?" she continued to tease, Michael felt his cock harden. No, he hadn't gone to the bathroom, but to the bar to drink a bottle of water. At one point, we heard Oliver Quick's voice, closer this time

. "Look who's finally woken up! Michael Gavey the nerd finally having fun, I wonder if he'll be able to fuck her!" Anger shot through her, but she decided to take advantage of the opportunity: she moved even closer to Michael, their lips just inches apart. "Ignore him" she said softly, coaxing him. Her breathing increased, Michael looked at her red lips. "He doesn't have this" she wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at his face. Thanks to the high heels, the height difference had decreased considerably.

"You really are a handsome boy" she murmured persuasively. "I like nerdy boys, they turn me on." She blew on his lips and when she heard Felix and the others mocking Michael again, she kissed him with her tongue in front of them.

Michael’s mind was still reeling from the taunts and the scene he had just witnessed when she suddenly turned her attention to him. He barely had time to register what was happening before she was standing right in front of him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. The air between them crackled with tension, and Michael felt his pulse quicken, his breath catching in his throat.

Without a word, she leaned in, her lips inches from his. He could smell her perfume—intoxicating and sweet, wrapping around him like a drug. His mind screamed at him to pull away, to leave before things spiraled out of control, but his body refused to obey. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, helpless in the face of her allure.

And then, she kissed him.

It was sudden, intense, and completely unexpected. Her lips were soft against his, warm and inviting, and Michael felt a rush of heat flood through his body. His hands moved of their own accord, one tangling in her hair, the other grasping her waist as he pulled her closer. The kiss deepened, their tongues brushing together in a dance that was both electric and desperate.

Every rational thought flew out of Michael’s mind, replaced by a primal hunger that consumed him. He had never felt anything like this before—the raw, unfiltered need that surged through his veins. He could feel her pressing against him, her body fitting perfectly against his, and it drove him wild. The world around them disappeared, the pounding music and the crowd fading into nothingness as they lost themselves in each other.

She was equally caught up in the moment, her usual cool demeanor giving way to something more passionate, more real. Her hands roamed over his chest, pulling him even closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The kiss was messy, needy, and full of the kind of desire neither of them had expected to feel—at least, not for each other.

As the kiss finally broke, both of them were left breathless, their eyes locked in a moment of shared disbelief. Michael’s heart was racing, his body humming with the aftershocks of what had just happened. He saw the same confusion in her eyes, the same unexpected lust that had taken them both by surprise.

Michael was horny as hell and she was soaking wet between his thighs.

She could hear whistles from her best friend in the distance, but she ignored them. "Can I… can I kiss you again?" Michael asked, she nodded. "Michael, put your tongue down my throat, don't let me do it all by myself. Now, fuck, grab me and touch me Michael. I know you want it, everyone does."

At the contact with his lips she sighed, she felt Michael's hands go down to my hips and grab me. "You smell good" Michael whispered, his erection pressing against her hips. Aware that she was half naked, she had to admit that I had lost the bet with Milly. That situation had aroused her and now I just wanted to take him to one of the bathrooms and fuck him.

"I… I want" he whispered between kisses. "Do you want what?" she asked wickedly. "I want to touch you, I want…fuck." Michael panted, her cheeks red. "Do you want to finger me, Mikey?" she spoke, drawing the words out of him. "Yes, I want… to do things to you… what the fuck…" he looked at her as if he wanted to devour her.

"Then do it to me here and now, no one will see us," she moved closer to Michael, pulled him close to her. "Have you ever touched a woman?" she whispered trying to make him feel at ease, he shook his head. "No, he admitted with shame. "But I would like to, I would like to so much."

Michael moved his hand away. on the hem of her mesh miniskirt that showed her thong. "Put your hand under my miniskirt, move my panties to the side and put your fingers in me" she whispered kissing his neck. "Move your middle and ring fingers in and out, your thumb on my clit. I know you're a good, smart boy, I know you'll treat me like I deserve" she connected their lips in a dirty kiss, Michael followed her orders and disappeared his fingers between her thighs. Her skin was smooth, warm.

He slipped his hand between them, with one finger he moved her panties to the side and used his middle and index finger to penetrate her, her pussy was soaking wet, hot and tight. He had seen some porn, locked in his room, nothing compared to this.

"My Good boy" she whispered moaning in her ear, Michael immediately found her clit and began to circle it with his thumb. "You're a fucking whore" he whispered in her ear. "And I want you just like that for me, for your fucking math nerd" she began to move her hips against his fingers, then slipped a hand into his boxers.

"Let me return the favor, nerdy boy" he whispered, letting her finger him. "I know you took pictures" he continued, pulling out his secret weapon. "You do hand jobs on those, huh?" She kissed his neck, Michael pinching her clit. "You're smart then" he whispered. "Cum for me," Michael whispered shortly after, feeling his cheeks flush and his erection ache in her smooth hand.

"Fuck Gavey, don't come in your pants" she whispered, moving her hand, caressing the tip of it. "Come on my fingers," Michael had his forehead resting on her shoulder, and she felt her legs tremble. "Mikey, oh fuck" she whispered kissing him and shortly after came on his fingers.

"My good girl" Michael whispered excitedly. "Do you want to have sex?" she asked feeling his excitement dripping down her thighs. Michael nodded, "Fuck yes" he whispered out of himself not recognizing himself anymore.

"Let's go to the bathroom Michael, I have the condoms" she gave him one last kiss to calm him down, took his hand and they disappeared behind the doors of the women's bathroom.

No one had noticed what had happened except Milly who had been watching them the whole time, but now she too found herself busy with one of the boys, more precisely with Felix Catton. She wanted to make him pay.

She grabbed Michael's hand and pulled him toward the bathroom, her grip firm and determined. The club's lights and noise faded as they hurried down the hallway, her intentions clear as she led him to one of the stalls. Once inside, she slammed the door shut behind them, locking it with a quick twist of her wrist. The small, confined space was suddenly filled with an intense, almost palpable tension.

Without giving him a chance to think, she pushed Michael against the door and kissed him fiercely, her hands gripping his shoulders. Michael was overwhelmed, his mind spinning from the intensity of her kiss and the suddenness of it all. His back hit the cold metal of the door, and a shiver ran down his spine, but it wasn’t from the cold.

In between kisses, he managed to stammer, “I—I’m a virgin…”

She paused for a brief moment, her eyes searching his, but instead of laughing or mocking him, she nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Don’t worry” she whispered, her voice low and reassuring. “I’ll take care of you.”

Then, she kissed him again, more gently this time, her hands moving to cup his face. Michael’s heart pounded in his chest, his nerves and excitement mixing in a heady rush that made his legs feel weak. He had never been in a situation like this before, had never imagined that she would be the one to lead him into it. But there was no hesitation in her, no doubt, and it gave him a strange kind of confidence.

She pressed closer to him, her body warm against his, as her hands began to explore, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Michael’s breath hitched as she continued, her touch both firm and tender, guiding him as their clothes quickly became a forgotten heap on the bathroom floor.

Her naked body was fucking divine, she was a fucking Goddess. Michael held her out. "First… I… wonder if… I can taste you" he whispered shyly, his cock was erect, long and hard. She licked her lips. "Yes" she whispered. "But you have to kneel down, pretty boy" she whispered almost with amusement.

Michael was embarrassed, but he knelt down in front of her kissing her on her cunt. "You smell good and you look so beautiful" he whispered looking up at her. She brought her hands up to his face, grabbing his glasses and taking them off. "You're so sweet" she whispered throwing them on the pile of clothes. "How… how do I do this?" he asked placing his hands on her thighs.

"Let me show you" she replied amused, lifting one leg up to Michael's shoulder. "Open me up like this first" she whispered bringing two fingers to her pussy. "With two fingers" she opened for him. "And then you lick me" she lowered her face, caressing his lips. "I know you can do it, Mikey" Michael nodded burying his head between her thighs, fuck it was wonderful. Slowly he licked her on her opening, licked her on the clit and soon after he put his tongue inside her, fucking her. "Fuck, Mikey" she panted feeling his long and thick tongue. "Fuck" she continued, Michael licked her, tasting her and it was incredibly sweet.

He grabbed her thighs with both hands, his nose pressed against her clit, "Pretty girl" he whispered between the licks and soon after, without restraint, she came on his lips, panting like a whore. Michael licked her and got up from her, holding her tightly in his arms. He looked at her.

"Do you want?" he asked, unsure if he had tired her. "Yes" she whispered, grabbing her purse, she took the condom and ripped it off with her teeth. "You're fucking hard Mikey" she murmured, putting it on him. "Now pick me up and lean me against the door" she clung to him, planting a kiss on his lips. Michael did as she ordered. "And now let me do it" she brought her legs behind his hips, pushing him against her pussy. Michael took hold of himself and entered her.

"Oh god!" he gasped, feeling his cock buried in her pussy. "Now move, my good boy" she teased, Michael began to push into her, he lowered his face to her breast and sucked on her nipple, she moaned, pulling his hair. Soon she concentrated on the thrusts, both of them lost in pleasure, Michael touched her deeply, fucking her so good. Every thrust was pure pleasure, his cock inside her filling her to perfection.

As they moved together, the initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by something raw and powerful. Michael’s nerves faded, overtaken by the growing pleasure that coursed through him, each touch and movement heightening the connection between them. For a few brief, intense moments, nothing else existed but the two of them, lost in each other and the wildness of the moment.

"Mikey, Mikey"! she gasped, squeezing herself, he felt her pussy contract around his cock. "Cum for me, fuck" he ordered. He brought his fingers to her clit and as she had taught him, the moves were fast, but gentle. She came with an orgasm that overwhelmed her, Michael filled the condom and pulled out of her, holding her in his arms.

Michael felt every sensation intensely—the warmth of her skin, the rhythm of her breath, the softness of her lips as they kissed again and again. "You are beautiful" he whispered again, squeezing her, then came the shame of what he had done and her cheeks blushed shamefully.

When it was over, they were both breathless, their bodies slick with sweat, their heartbeats racing in unison. Michael leaned back against the door, his mind still struggling to process what had just happened. She looked at him with a mix of satisfaction and something almost tender in her gaze, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

She adjusted Michael’s glasses back on his face, her fingers brushing lightly against his skin. Michael, still catching his breath, felt a rush of shame wash over him. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes, a mix of guilt and embarrassment gnawing at him, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he had enjoyed every moment of what had just happened.

She looked at him, her expression softening. “You were… wow,” she admitted, a hint of genuine surprise in her voice. “I didn’t expect that.”

Michael looked up, trying to read her face, unsure of what she meant. But before he could ask, she continued, her tone shifting slightly. “I should probably tell you… this started as a bet” she confessed, her voice low, almost hesitant. “But honestly, even if it hadn’t been, I would have found a way to get close to you eventually. Maybe I would have asked for help with math or something.”

At her words, Michael’s stomach dropped, the humiliation cutting deeper now. His fists clenched at his sides, anger and hurt flashing through him. He had been nothing more than a game to her, a joke. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

Seeing the hurt in his eyes, she quickly added, “But that doesn’t change what just happened. It was real for me, Michael. I didn’t expect to feel anything, but… I did. You were incredible.”

Michael’s anger faltered at her honesty, the rawness in her voice catching him off guard. He hesitated, still processing everything, but then, in a small, uncertain voice, he asked, “Would you… would you maybe like to go out with me sometime?”

She smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face. “Are you asking me to out on a date, Mickey?” she replied, without hesitation. “But yes, I’d like that.”

Relief washed over Michael, and a shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips. They quickly dressed, the earlier tension replaced by a new, tentative connection. As they exited the club, the cool night air wrapped around them, a stark contrast to the heat they had just shared.

They walked hand in hand, the noise of the club fading behind them as they made their way back toward the university. The campus loomed ahead, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, the night quiet and peaceful around them. Neither of them spoke much, but the silence was comfortable, filled with the unspoken promise of something new and unexpected.

For the first time that night, Michael felt a sense of calm, a strange mix of contentment and anticipation. As they walked together, he couldn’t help but feel that, despite everything, this might just be the start of something real.

As they walked hand in hand, Michael felt a gnawing guilt bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “For calling you a bitch and a whore… and for spreading those rumors about you. I didn’t know you, and I… I was wrong.”

She stopped walking and turned to face him, her expression softer than he expected. “It’s okay, Michael” she said, her voice gentle. “Honestly, I was trying to get your attention. I just… didn’t know how to go about it.”

Michael looked at her, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. “But why me? I’m just… a nerd, a loser. I never thought someone like you would even notice me.”

A smile tugged at her lips, and she squeezed his hand. “I like nerds, Michael. I’ve always found them interesting, different. You’re smart, and you’re real. That’s what caught my eye.”

As they continued walking, she winced slightly, her pace slowing. “These heels are killing me, she admitted, glancing down at her feet with a small, pained smile.

Without a second thought, Michael offered, “I could carry you if you want.”

She looked at him in surprise, then nodded, a playful grin on her face. “You’d do that?”

Michael nodded, his heart pounding a little faster. He bent down and lifted her into his arms, her weight light and warm against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and before he knew it, she leaned in and kissed him again, her lips soft and warm.

But this time, something was different. Michael didn’t feel the rush of excitement he expected. Instead, a strange sadness settled over him. He had been so wrong about her, so blinded by his own insecurities and misconceptions. The girl in his arms wasn’t the person he had thought she was—she was more, and he had misjudged her so badly.

As they continued their walk toward the university, her head resting on his shoulder, Michael couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted inside him. He wasn’t the same awkward, resentful nerd he had been just a few hours ago. He didn’t quite know who he was becoming, but he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want to make the same mistakes again.

Michael couldn’t help but think about how wrong he’d been, but before he could dwell on it too long, she broke the silence with a teasing grin. “You know, you really are a maneater,” he said, half-jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

She smirked and leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Actually, Mikey, you ate me out in that bathroom.”

Michael blinked in surprise before a laugh bubbled up from his chest, the tension between them melting away. She was funny, confident, and completely unexpected. All he wanted now was her—just her, in all her unpredictable, fascinating glory.

She looked at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Michael, do you like that for our date see each other in your room, have sex again… and then watch a film… like, maybe one of the Star Wars movies while we eat some junk food?”

Michael’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. The idea of spending more time with her, doing something as simple as watching a movie, felt oddly perfect. And the fact that she wanted to watch Star Wars? That was a dream come true.

He grinned, excitement bubbling up inside him. “That sounds amazing,” he said, his voice full of eager anticipation.

She smiled back at him, and as they continued their walk, Michael couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest nerd in the world.