liannafae

[liannafae]

Yes, yes, yes. Michael for the win 💗❤️

hunger

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ masterlist ✧₊⁺ AO3 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ taglist

⟢summary: the things Michael does for a crunchie bar.

⟢pairing: michael gavey x reader

⟢warnings: 18+, MDNI, mentions of oral m receiving, oral f receiving, fingering, overstimulation, f squirting.

⟢wc: 2,366

She uses the pad of her thumb to collect the line of cum that had trickled down the corners of her lips. Bringing the digit back into her mouth to suck off the pearly white liquid, all while seductively gazing at the disheveled boy that sat on the edge of her bed. 

Michael let out a breathy moan, feeling his softened cock rousing back to life as he watched her throat swallow every bit of him again. She hums at the taste, salty with a hint of caramel from all those fucking crunchy bars he devours everyday when she’d seem him in class. 

She brings herself up from the floor, her knees starting to recuperate from the carpet digging amongst her skin. Standing, she begins to thread her fingers through Michael’s soft sandy hair, appreciating the silkyness of it and the faintest little whines that emitted from his lips before tugging his head back rather abruptly. 

“Would you like a taste of me, Gavey?” She asks, even though she knows the answer. It was why they were here, settled at her dorm. 

Michael nods zestfully, his eyes trailing to her covered core as if he was already undressing her with his eyes. She grabs his hand and doesn’t fail to notice it was a bit clammy with nerves, and it almost made her feel slightly bad about continuing but the way his blue eyes darkened when she directed his hand toward the hem of her floral dress, made her think differently. 

His fingers work at lifting up her dress. A deep shade of crimson floods his perfectly sculpted cheeks as he awkwardly and neatly folded her dress on the side of her nightstand. She giggled at his adorableness, she wasn’t as gentle as he was with her clothing. After, when they made their deal about what they wanted from each other, she clawed out his clothes and scattered them somewhere across her room, having no regard for them.  

Once she made quick work at getting rid of her bra, Michael’s eyes widened in amazement as if had just received the perfect gift he always wanted. His fingers twitched, longing to touch what was right in front of him but she knew deep down he was holding himself back. 

“I-um- I don’t know what to do” he admits sheepishly. 

She knows this, having it heard and confirmed by Felix and Oliver when they were at the pub with a group of their friends. 

She gives him a reassuring smile before straddling his lap, “I’ll teach you” 

Michael’s face reddened even more if it was possible. His gaze lingered on her lips, then a back up to her eyes giving her a silent look for permission to kiss her lips to which she nodded fervently. 

He wastes no time to crash his lips to hers, leaning his head forward to deepen the kiss. She moans, unsure if Michael knew how to kiss but even then she was willing to teach him if it need be. She moves her knees to get closer to Michael, her bare breasts scraping tightly against his chest as she wraps her arms around his neck desperately needing him to be closer than they already were. 

She whines softly into the kiss as she swipes her tongue over Michael’s bottom lip. Michael moans in response, parting his lips open to let her gain access and she seizes the opportunity to dance her tongue against his own. Michael furrows his brows in concentration, taking mental notes on how exactly she liked to be kissed by the way he strokes his tongue synchronously with hers and the soft little moans that follow out of her lips. 

She pulls away, a hint of chocolate and mint lingering on her lips, as she yearns for more of him between her legs. She almost wants to continue kissing him as she watches Michael’s blue eyes slowly flutter open and his lower lip curling into a pout, mewling at the loss of contact. 

“We can kiss more after, if you want. Right now, I need you to return the favor” She pants, out of breath. Michael mends his pout into an eager smile that makes her chuckle. For such an arrogant know-it-all he sure had a way of being cute. 

She lifts herself up by the help of Michael’s shoulders, crawling over the middle of her bed to rest her back against the duvet. “Ready?” She asks, wiggling her brows enthusiastically, already feeling giddy deep in her stomach. 

Michael nods as he slowly adjusted to sit between her legs, his curious eyes never leaving her damp covered center, his pink tongue sweeping over his lips quickly practically already tasting her. 

“Take of my panties, Gavey” 

She hears Michael audibly whimper as his quivering fingers hook to the waistband of her underwear, sliding it off and causing her to release a shudder over the coolness of his fingertips. 

Michael brushed his fingers against the garment of her underwear, studying it before he brought it to his nose, deeply inhaling the juices that were caused by being in the mere presence of him, from having him inside her mouth, around her hands, his kiss…

There was something so hot and erotic about it, seeing the guy who always picks on her for not being as smart as he was, sniffing her juices like he was a starved man. She moaned at his actions even more so when he quickly bent over the bed and stuffed her underwear into one of the pockets of his cargo shorts, probably saving it for later. 

She bites back a protest. Those were her favorite pair but she supposes she can spare them for now. 

Michael resumed his previous position in between her thighs. This time his face laid just centimeters away from her glistening core. She can feel his hot ragged breath fanning over the little patch of curls above her cunt, and very faintly she can hear Michael murmur “christ” under his breath. 

She props herself on her elbows, “Give me your hand” Michael releases another shaky breath before he allows her to direct his hand to cup her mound. 

“Do you feel how wet I am for you, Michael?” 

Michael groans, desperate for some friction he grinds his cock on the bed. He can feel it. He can feel his hand soaked with her arousal. Michael wants to pull back and lick everybit clean off his hand. 

“That’s- that’s my clit” She informs Michael with a strain voice as she runs his index finger through her folds. Michael stares at her engorged bud, having remembered studying it from his anatomy class and how it brought him great curiosity. Now, he was face to face with it and nothing could prepare how much excitement it brought him. 

“The clit is very important. It’s where most of our pleasure comes from. Just pay adequate attention to it and gently circle it-” 

She isn’t sure of the noises that leave her mouth, only feeling Michael beginning to circle her bud in a manner where not even most guys she’s been with have done so. It’s unhurried, unsure and gentle but it’s enough for her to feel waves of pleasure up her spine and her toes curling against the duvet. 

“Oh! Michael” She moans, arching her back and unintentionally caging Michael’s head between her thighs. 

Michael pulls his finger quickly like lightning away from her bud, his face showing a bit of concern. “What? What’s wrong? Was this not to your liking? I can try-” 

“No, no. You’re doing great, really. I-I just, well, I like it and I meant it in a good way” She reassures him with a smile, a slight warmth shoots to her cheeks. 

God, was she blushing at Michael fucking Gavey? Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan or the agreement! 

“Oh, I see” Michael smirks before lowering his head, “Can I use my tongue?” She almost wants to desperately scream ‘YES’ and grind herself against his face but she instead nods and that was enough of a response for Michael as he flattens the tip of his tongue where her clit was.  

Her back arches again, instinctively, feeling Michael’s tongue circle her bud and sweep through her folds all while he keeps his lustful gaze on her, watching the way her face contorts into different forms of pleasure and the audible moans and gasps he hears when he flicks his tongue in a rhythm he notes she likes. 

Michael soon also finds himself moaning at the way she tastes. It was a flavor so sweet. Sweeter than the chocolate of his crunchy bars he so religiously ate. How could he ever tire of her taste? 

Her chest begins to heave, her stomach feeling fuzzy and tight. She was nearing her first orgasm in weeks. 

But then suddenly something unexpected happens. Michael hooks her thighs under his arms, bringing her cunt closer to his face. His red and swollen lips closed in around her clit, tenderly sucking. His actions along with the vibrations of his moans, sends hot shocks of pleasure that she feels the band in her stomach about to snap. 

“Michaelllll. I’m about to-to cum” She cries, feeling orgasm seconds away from releasing. 

“Really?” Michael mumbles with an exciting look in his eyes. She hums, her hands no longer fisting the duvet but instead gripping Michael’s hair. 

Michael continues to lap at her core at the same rhythm he notices she likes, working his tongue quicker until he feels the meaty flesh of her thighs close in on his head and tremble. 

“Michael! Yes! Yes!!!” She chants so loudly that both her and Michael know everyone in the dorm floor would listen. She couldn’t bring herself to care about everyone listening. The genius math nerd in all of Oxford just gave her the best head in the world. 

Michael drinks in her release and this time he is able to pinpoint what flavor she reminds him of. 

Honey. 

She mewls softly. Her body feels weak and tired like she had just ran the longest marathon in her life. “So good, Michael. You did such a good job” She praises, giving the cunt-drunk man between her thighs a lazy smile as she brushes the damp hair away from his face. 

A blush creeps into Michael’s cheeks, a sense of pride fills his senses. He knows he wants more now that she let him taste her. Michael supposes she could give him another taste to satisfy his hunger. She was right there for the taking. Why not? 

“What are you doing?” She curiously asks, peering over as Michael dips his head again making her eyes widen in amazement.

“Michael, wait. We agreed just… Oh fuck!” Her back arches, hands gripping her breasts and a series of gasps leave her lips as Michael redoubles his efforts and works his tongue at an incredible speed that makes tears leave the corners of her eyes over the sensitivity. 

Michael was getting skilled at this. Too skilled with tongue. 

The thin metal of Michael’s glasses dug at her thighs, his face tightly pressed at her core as he growled devotedly. Had she just accidentally created a feral animal? Fuck. 

This time she feels herself ascending closer to her peak more than usual. Her legs involuntarily begin to tremble and her mind feels fuzzy as she has no more strength to fight the waves of pleasure Michael was awarding. 

“Michael” She cries, unsure why. 

Michael, however, lost in his pleasure instinctively comes up with an idea. He unhooks one of his hands around her thigh and brings one of his fingers toward her entrance, plunging inside her walls in and out and curses at the way she clenches around his finger. 

“No, no, no. Stay” Michael mumbles as her hips buckle away from his ministrations. 

This was all getting too much for her. But she does what she’s told and stays and her body violently trembles one last time until she feels the pressure deep in her belly explode and her vision going absolutely blank. 

Has she died and gone to heaven? Cause fuck!

She doesn’t seem to remember how to breathe or pick up the surprise yelps from Michael. She was absolutely drained and spent. 

“Are-are you okay down there?” She asks, panting, gathering whatever strength she had left to peer down between her thighs. Michael’s round blue eyes look up at her in shock. His face, coated with much of her juices. Even his glasses had not been spared. A palm sized wet patch soaked her bedding. 

Did Michael fucking Gavey make me squirt? 

“I’m sorry that's the first time that ever happened to me. Wait here, let me get a towel to clean you up” She stammers as she begins to crawl out of her bed but Michael’s hand wraps around her ankle, preventing her. 

“No need. I quite liked it” He blinks as cleans his face with his fingers, licking away her arousal like the embarrassing thing she did not happen. 

He plops himself next to her on the bed, landing with a heavy thud. “So” Michael trails with a smirk, his head resting on his elbow. “Did I earn my reward?” 

She scoffs playfully. How could she forget their deal? 

She was walking to her class earlier on the day when she spotted Michael pouding and cursing at a vending machine for eating the last cash he had on him. She evilly laughed at him before she nonchalantly walked over to the vending machine and purchased the last two crunchy bars while waving it on his face. Truthfully, she did not find chocolate as pleasing as he did. Michael had scoffed before he followed her like a lost puppy, telling her he’d pay her back the next day. A wicked plan forged inside her head in a way he could pay her back. 

“Here” She slams the two golden bars against his chest after she retrieved them from her bag. Michael smiles and mutters a ‘thanks’ as he unwraps his treat and brings her body to rest against his chest. 

general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @smayhem @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @imsoshygirl

empty is who I couldn't tag sorry :/

if you'd like to be tag on my general taglist click here

[liannafae]

And if I say I need a sequel, what then?

whatever may come

⋆. 𐙚 ˚masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ taglist

⟢summary: aemond punishes his maidservant after catching her talking to a stableboy. he, however, will not recognize the consequences to his actions later on.

⟢pairing: dark! aemond targaryen x servant reader

⟢warnings: 18+, MDNI, noncon, dubcon, oral m receiving, cum play?, p in v sex, rough sex, possessiveness, degradation. I think that's it?

⟢wc: 2,700

⟢notes: lol this was inspired by a tiktok edit?? anyways I think this is dark? I apologize if this sounds like crap, I ruined my sleep schedule for this?? haha

⟢byka līve: little whore

She silenced her whimpers to the best of her ability, her lower lip caught between her teeth so tightly that she could taste the metallic drops of her blood as the man above her painfully gripped the very roots of her hair jerking her trembling body away from his lap to the stone cold floor. 

She looked up through her eyelashes as she watched him correct her posture to his liking like a mere doll, the same ones she would watch him play with in the privacy of his sister’s chambers whenever she did her maid duties. 

After he had settled her into her knees, she immediately let out a sigh of relief as that burn waved itself away to solace. She continued to look at him, back and forth between his lone violet eye and his sparkling sapphire that only seemed to strangely glow whenever she was present. His expression was unreadable from the previous austere one where moments ago he remorselessly and brutally, to be quite clear, hit multiple blows against her bottom, making her count each and every single one without tears in her eyes. She never knew how to count, but Aemond made sure to teach her with each hit upwards to twenty. 

She knew Aemond was angry and he had every right to be. Earlier on the day as he was training with his mother’s knight, Criston Cole, out in the outer yard when he spotted his favorite maidservant blushing and laughing with a plainly featured stableboy as his dirty little fingers swept back a piece of loose hair out of her face. 

Never once did Aemond ever see his maidservant smile that brightly before much less directed towards him. And she had no reason to whatsoever. His presence did not bring her joy or an ounce of merriment, it was much the opposite of that. So why did Aemond believe that he deserved a little smile when all he ever did was defile, break and use her all whilst making her cry in the end? 

There was only one reason a low born male like him smiled that way and Aemond shunned those ill fitting thoughts out of his mind for he did not want to think of another man touching his maidservant. 

She was his and his only, no one else’s. And she’d do well to remember that. 

“Undress me, byka līve” Aemond demands, speaking the last two phrases in his ancestral language. Never knowing what they meant, if they were expressed appreciatively or aimed in an appraising matter. 

Deep down she had an inkling that they were not. 

She blinked, hesitantly bringing herself up from the floor. Just as she began to unfasten his black leather doublet, her hair was tugged yet again before her knees were bent back down against the stone. 

She winced, carefully not to make any sound. 

“No, byka līve, not there. Here—” His fingers threaded her hair more tightly, pressing her face flat against his pelvis. She could feel the swellness of his cock across her face, where the base of his manhood started nudging at the bottom of her chin and where the pulsating tip pressed a little above her eyes. 

But what astonished her the most was the small wet patch that amplified the smell of his sex. Surely, this was not what she thought it was. 

There was only one way to find out.

The one eyed prince released his tight grip on the roots of her hair. She wondered that by the end of the night, after he was done with her if there would be any hair left. Her hair was the only thing she liked about her appearance, the smooth texture with hidden silver highlights.

“Look at me while you undress me” 

With a shaky breath, she nodded as her hands moved to unlace his breeches, tugging down just below where his stones ended until the garment pooled at his feet. A part of her felt grateful it was him she was looking and not his throbbing parts. 

Aemond was determined to peak again, seeing his red faced maidservant so obedient and frightened before him. It almost made him want to reward her with either his fingers or tongue or mayhaps both. 

But she wasn’t here for a reward. She was unbefitting for such a thing. It was because of her whore like behavior akin to the sordid ones in the Silk of Street that filthy stableboy had his eyes already set on her. 

And he can not have that happening. 

Without further warning, she feels two of his fingers ruthlessly being shoved at the back of her throat. He gives her no time to settle what he was doing to her as his long digits begin to pump in and out of her at an outrageous pace that involuntarily makes her eyes produce tears. 

Above her, she hears her prince hum with a dark look in his eye that sends shivers down her spine. She shouldn’t be enjoying this, it was wrong. This act, along with the various ones from previous nights and mayhaps the forthcoming ones, were suitable for a married woman and her husband. Not a prince and his maidservant. She stood to gain nothing from this. 

“This mouth is mine” Aemond breathlessly whispered as his fingers curled in a come hither motion, her lips kissing his knuckles. At his words, she lets out a series of sobs loud enough for Aemond to tug her head back in distaste. 

“What? Do you have something to say in the matter? Do you not think you belong to me?” 

She shut her eyes, flinching at the sonority of his voice, thinking by doing that he would go away dissatisfied and search for someone to take her place. 

But her silence only seemed to anger him more. 

“Fucking answer me, byka līve!” he yells close to her ear. 

For the first time since her counting, she spoke with a shaking voice. “Y-y-yes, Your Grace” 

“Yes what? Hmm?” 

She gasps and opens her eyes feeling her prince’s fingers twist and pinch her covered hard nipple, “I’m- I’m yours, my prince” 

“You don’t sound so convinced that you are, byka līve” he licks his lips before tutting. Such a sound made her feel alarmed and more frightened. “Do I need to remind you, again?” Aemond asks, bringing his hand to his manhood. 

As familiarized as she was with his nakedness, she could not help to invite herself to look at all of him. Centimeters close to her face, stood his very erect cock, thick and heavy as she saw last, skin pulled back to reveal his needy red tip with mix remnants of arousal and spend. 

It brought her shame and disgust the way her core seemed to long and yearn for the fullness he brought upon her. 

Aemond, frustrated in her lack of words, taps the tip of his cock on her bottom lip before he shoves his way into her warm mouth. He could feel his maidservant whine uncomfortably from only taking half of him. Fucking weak whore. Aemond cursed to himself. He knew she could take more, she had done so before. 

“Fuck” 

Her chest heaves rapidly trying to keep her air supply to the best she can and opening her mouth wider to make it easier for her to suit his thickness since it had been a while since his cock rested around her lips. Her prince, as of late, preferred to be inside her walls in all the hours of the day and night. In that order. 

Once the one eyed prince was certain her mouth had accommodated his size, he took no more time yanking her head down sheathing every inch to the back of her throat, sighing in pleasure. 

The vibrations of her whimpers spurred Aemond on as his hips started to thrust in and out of her lips, slowly at first to enjoy the soft ridges that her throat had to offer and her tongue. Seven Hells, her tongue instinctively raising up whenever his tip rested there for a second, making him forget the reason why he was doing this in the first place. Her punishment. 

“Are–you…fuck– starting to fucking remember who you b-belong to, byka līve? Hmm?” Aemond asked, wrapping his hand around her throat to feel the bulge of his cock sliding in and out. 

“Y-yes” she forces out through the tightness of her throat, trails of drool escaping the corners of her mouth. Aemond darkly laughs and moans at her response as his hips hasten their speed, chasing his nearing peak. 

“Good girl” he coos, his eye looking down at her flushed face. “My good sweet girl” —thrust— “I’m going to cum on your face” (a/n: listen to this tiktok if you want to hear him say it lol xD okay byeee)

She has no time to react as she feels hot ropes of his seed spurting all across her face. From her eyes to her cheeks and lips she feels it all. 

She hears her prince groan, as he pumps his cock faster feeling his second release coming again. 

And this time she knew to tilt her away to not get any more on her eyes or her hair. She heard stories from other maids that a man’s seed would knot into hair, making it impossible to get rid of. She didn’t know if it was true or not but she did not want to take her chances. 

“Just as I was beginning to think to reward you” He hissed, pulling her to stand. She whimpers, her head hot and spinning from getting up too fast. 

The raged prince spins his maidservant around, using the dagger Cole gifted him for his fourteenth nameday to rip through her night shift right below the dimples of her arse. The temperature of his chambers, which wasn’t too cold nor warm, caused the little hairs around on her body to raise.  

She tried to cover her bareness with her hands, whatever could fit on her palms. Since the beginning of their coupling, Aemond commanded her that she was to keep her shift on, only slightly raised to her hips. Not that she had any complaints, but it made her truly wonder why he’d be bare and not her. 

“This” Aemond cups her soaked mound, “Cunt is mine. Mine only to fuck and to do whatever I please. It’s not some filthy– dolt stableboy’s” He growls next to her. 

She parts open her lips at the realization that he was the heated gaze she felt on her back when she was discussing with Linus at the outer yard. She should have known her prince would be there training every morning like he always was. But it must have slipped her mind somehow. 

Aemond scowls, “I saw you, byka līve. Saw you speaking to him and letting him touch you. Saw him leave your room” 

She doesn’t get the chance to reply; to tell him that what he saw was not what it looked like. But her tongue was caught between her teeth before he roughly drags her body to slightly bend her over by his dressing mirror, giving himself a few vigorous pumps as he watches his proud work dripping on his pretty maidservant’s face. 

“Please, my prince. It isn’t…oh!” Feeling him enter in one sharp thrust deep, she gasps at the sudden fullness. There wasn’t any part of her that was empty, her cunt felt so deliciously stuffed to the brim. 

“It isn’t what? Are you telling me that my eye deceives me?” He asks in a strain voice, trying to hold his authority over her whilst controlling his sounds of pleasure. “Did I or did I not see you fucking laughing with him or—Seven Hells—letting his dirty little fingers touch you? Must I remind you it is a grave offense to lie to your prince, byka līve?” 

White hot pleasure runs deep inside her belly as his thrusts quicken to get an answer from her yet she struggles to keep her composure. “N-no, my prince, Linus came t-t-to meee. He said I had a ladybug on my hair and—” she rolls her head back to rest on his shoulder feeling her peak coming closer and closer. “Said I was pretty b-but, my prince—” 

Wanting to hear no more of this, Aemond stopped his movements, much to his dismay, wrapping his hand around her throat so tightly she knew it would bruise like the other times he took her from the same exact position. 

“Oh, he called you pretty did he? I wonder what he’ll think now with my spend on your face” 

Fear and embarrassment wormed itself to her body. She did not want anyone to see her this way, exposed, bare, and being fucked by the prince of the Queen’s second eldest son. Soon enough when the time came when she was no longer useful to him, she thought about lying to her future husband–if she ever met one worthy of taking her far away from King’s Landing–persuading him she was still pure, not touched by a possessive prince. 

“No please, my prince” She protested as Aemond grabbed the small little bell that was used to call in a Kingsguard.

He ignored her pleas not even attempting to hide her nakedness or her pearly white soaked face as Ser Arryk walked into the chamber being instructed to bring Linus from the stables. 

“Hush, byka līve” He cooed behind her, repositioning his cock back into her entrance. Any moment longer, he felt like his cock would explode from another release being denied. “Now, I might not let him in but only if you do not hide your sounds” 

She nods to the vigorous deep thrusts Aemond sets in, feeling more of her slick dripping down her thighs, aiding to the heavy slapping sound of their sex coming as one. She arched her back against Aemond’s chest, releasing mixes of intense pants and moans, gazing at the way Aemond’s face scrunches from bliss through the mirror. 

“Give it to me” Aemond groans, feeling his maidservant’s cunt flutter and clench around him. A sign that her peak was forthcoming. He snakes his hand down to her bud and curses loudly at how wet she was. 

She is a whore. Aemond thinks as he circles the bundle of nerves. 

At this, she gives Aemond a series of loud cries that she knew would be heard throughout the Keep. And in the morrow the castle would be surrounded with heavy gossip of who the lewd sounds belonged to and who caused them. 

“Gods, fuck!” 

Aemond smiled through the mirror, fucking her through her peak until he too began to yell out in ecstasy. His seed spilling deep into her womb. 

After their breaths settled, two loud knocks followed by the voice of Ser Arryk caused her to look at her prince in panic, hoping he’d dismiss them since she did what he asked her to do. 

“Come,” Aemond loudly announced, grabbing a cup of Pentoshi wine from his dinner table, ignoring the sobbing pleas from his maidservant. 

She tried to back away, desperately needing to shield herself away but that only caused the silver prince to tut and shake his head as a warning. 

The door shut loudly behind Linus as he came into the chambers, slowly and unsure why he was being called into the Prince’s chambers at this hour when he should be sleeping. 

“Linus, is it?” Aemond questioned, even though he knew the answer. 

Linus averts his gaze from the Prince’s nakedness, and nods. “Y-yes, my prince, if it pleases you” 

“Well, Linus. I am in need of your opinion, and I want you to be honest with me. Do you think that she looks glorious—pretty even, with my cum on her face?” 

She can not bring herself to look at the red headed man she considered a friend, knowing that the loud silence lingering around confirmed that he did not find her pretty like he had called her, hours ago. 

In fact, no one would ever find her pretty now. She was ruined and now a whore, like her mother had been when she too was seduced by a prince. 

a/n: if requested ill release two parts of this (one when aemond meets her and another for what happens next lol)

taglist: @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @fullmoonworshipper @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @kittendoll05

bold is who I couldn't tag!

if you wish to be tagged in my general taglist go here!

[liannafae]

So much like their parents

[liannafae]

His so boyfriend 🥹🫂💕💕💕💕💕

like or reblog if you save or use;

[liannafae]

Blond Ewan has comeback to us 💕💕🫂🫂

[liannafae]

That's my son, his special ❤️

he is just special

[liannafae]

My babies 😭😭😭😭 Mom will free you 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

2.02 | 2.05 | 2.06

[liannafae]

This is a canon event for me. They were all so worried for their Dad 😂😂😂😂

Alicent: your father is dead…

Aemond: Ser Cole is dead???

Alicent: … no….

Aegon: … O-Otto?

Alicent: no!

Helaena: I really wouldn’t consider him a father figure

Aegon: me either but who else could she mean?

Alicent: Your father! The KING!

Her kids:…..

Her kids: oHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Helaena: forgot about him

[liannafae]

That's my boy 😘

“The rats play when the cat is gone, but my son Aemond will return with fire and blood.”

[liannafae]

That was amazing 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 no words to comment on this Master piece

The Golden Cage (Masterlist) 👑

[modern! mafia boss • Aemond x female]

[warnings: sex content, angst, smut, violence, swearing, domination kink, mention of homicide]

[description: Aemond works with the mob and finds a new accomplice. His attention is drawn to his daughter, trying to isolate herself as much as possible from their criminal underworld. Angst, domination kink, a lot of sexual tension.]

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Epilogue

The Greed (Drabble)

[liannafae]

I miss him already 😭💖

EWAN MITCHELL talking for Esquire (2024)

+ Bonus: that meme I needed to make

[liannafae]

Babes I just want you to live well and be healthy 😭🥹

like or reblog if you save or use;

[liannafae]

I need more please, this was too short. I need a pregnant pic for this one, please 🥺

As You Are

Part 2/? (full fic available on Ao3)

Relationship: Aemond Targaryen / AFAB Reader Word Count: 2308 Summary: Set one month after the wedding, you and your husband Prince Aemond come to terms with the growing love that blooms within the bright flame of desire. Warnings: Smut, 18+ themes, Oral Sex

Author Note: This is a follow up to what was originally a oneshot that I posted back in 2023, which can be found here (Part 1). However, this can also be read as a stand alone ✨ enjoy!

You woke to the sound of chirping birds, squinting as your bleary eyes adjusted to the warm morning light that filtered through the half-opened curtains. Last night's sheets were still wrapped around your tender body as you rolled over to find your husband's side of the bed, empty and unmade.

Prince Aemond sat a short distance away, his unbound silver hair tucked behind his ear as he remained perched in an armchair by the open window, a leather-bound book in hand.

It had only been a month since the wedding, and although you had your own personal quarters, you still spent most of your mornings like that - warming your husband's bed, reluctant to part from him unless necessary, relishing the comfort that his company brought you.

"Come back to bed..." you hummed, your throat hoarse and heavy from your slumber.

He looked up at the sound of your voice, the sapphire in his eye refracting ever so slightly in the light, "I couldn't sleep."

"We do not have to sleep," you said.

A small smile broke the focus on his face as you carelessly sat up, allowing the silk sheets to slip and expose your bare breast in an open invitation.

"You're incorrigible," he sighed and raised a brow, yet put his book down all the same.

You gave him a wicked smile, "Am I?"

Aemond stood and walked slowly toward the bed, his hand ghosting the knot at his waist that barely held his robe together, those long fingers sliding carefully in but pausing just short of unfastening the loop.

"Here I am, enjoying a perfectly good book, and yet you are determined to drive me to distraction..." he stopped at the foot of the bed and looked down at you with a warm smile that betrayed his scolding tone.

You playfully kicked out your leg, stroking along the length of his thigh with your foot as you pouted, "I am terribly sorry, my prince."

"My wife ought to know her place," he teased, a considering look in his eye as he trailed his fingers along the curve of your calf. "Hmm, I dread to know what others at court might say about your behaviour."

"Well, 'tis hard to know my place when my husband so cruelly abandons me come dawn..."

"Abandons?" he scoffed. "You would accuse me of being so heartless? When I simply wished not to disturb your slumber?"

You squealed in delight when he grasped your ankle to drag you slowly across the mattress, your back slipping against the silk sheets with ease as you offered no resistance. Your body ached for him, something dark and consuming pooled in the pit of your stomach as he set you down against the edge of the bed beneath his towering figure.

"Ah - I humbly beg my Lord husband's forgiveness for any offence caused," you giggled unapologetically, sitting up and shaking your tousled hair out of your face to better see his mock disapproval.

Aemond's hand caressed your jaw, carefully lifting your gaze to meet him as he stroked his thumb along your bottom lip, "How shall you make it up to me?"

"I have a few ideas," your voice was low, desperate with wanting.

Aemond took a sharp breath as you pulled apart the knot that keeps his robe together, his hardening cock suddenly freed from the fabric as you took him in your hand and stroked slowly from the head to the base. You wet your lips and leant forward to press a delicate kiss against the shaft, your grip tightening just ever so slightly as his fingers entangled themselves amidst your hair.

He smirked, "Enlighten me?"

Aemond twitched when you gazed up at him, desire blazing through your eyes as you carefully flit your tongue along the pre-cum that gathered at the tip, watching eagerly when his lips parted and a small gasp caught in his throat.

You took your time, slowly but surely wrapping your lips around him as you lowered your mouth onto his considerable length, relaxing your jaw to take him as far as you could before the urge to breathe again had a chance to spoil your fun.

"Fuck -" Aemond plead, his hand stroking the crown of your head as he guided you.

You let out a hum of satisfaction while you swirled your tongue around his cock, bobbing your head, and watching the way that your husband's head rolled forward with a low groan. Aemond grunted and held you in place when you swallowed, a feverish heat prickling up his spine when you groaned around his cock and pushed yourself as far as you can go before your breath escapes you.  

He drank in the sight of you, your body flush with desire, with the insatiable hunger that had alighted between you. It took everything he had not to buck his hips, to chase the pleasure that you coaxed from him, to allow you the power to unravel him so perfectly.

You withdrew with a gasp for air, your lungs desperate for relief, the laughter shaky in your throat as Aemond quickly leant down to steal a kiss.

"Am I forgiven?" you moaned softly into his mouth, his tongue hot as it caressed your own.

"Not yet," he whispered, his teeth grazing your lower lip. "But if this is the kind of apology I can expect to receive, perhaps we should bicker more often?"

"Only if you extend the same courtesy to me," you replied.

"Hmm... " he grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

You felt his hand cup the swell of your breast, his touch was warm against the cool morning air as his thumb traced circles around your nipple, his kiss softening as he lowered himself to kneel on the edge of the mattress.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes half-lidded, your forehead resting against his own. Aemond allowed you a moment to catch your breath, for you to weave your fingers through his silver hair and graze the nape of his neck, before he slowly shifted and pulled you into his lap. His hands stroked along the outline of your body, charting every bend and curve in his endless endeavour to know you as no other man could.

He brought his lips to yours again, his voice low as his hand wandered to the apex of your thighs, "Here?"

"Aemond -" you let out a ragged breath, a wordless plea for more as his forefinger began to run slow clumsy strokes against your clit.

"You're already so wet for me," he hissed as you deepened the kiss, his finger slipping inside with ease. "I could take you right now," he withdrew to the knuckle and slowly pushed back in with a second digit. "Is that what you want?"

You whimpered as his thumb stopped at the bud, pressing firm as his fingers thrust in and out with agonising precision, pleasure pooling in your belly as you rocked your hips forward. His lips found the crook of your neck as your head rolled back, playfully nipping the sensitive skin as you reached for his cock and found it harder than ever before.

Aemond groaned, the pace of his fingers quickening as you stroked him, overcome by an aching need to bury himself inside you. Acting entirely on impulse, before he even realised what he was doing, he removed his fingers and brushed your hand aside to move you so that your body was finally flush against his.

"I need you in me," you begged him as he angled his cock beneath you, the tip brushing perfectly against your swollen clit on its way to your entrance. "Seven hells, Aemond... Fuck -"

You locked eyes as he raised his hips, and the length of him finally pushed in, his gaze intent and unwavering as he sheathed himself as deep as he could go. He stared and stared at you, holding your head in place so that you couldn't look away, and a deep and unspeakable sense of belonging closed the space around you until you were all that was left in his world.

You let out a restrained groan at the way that your body tightened around him, at how full he had made you. Your hands gripped the strong muscles around his shoulders, pulling him into an eager embrace, as if clinging to him could ground you somewhat - to remind you of who you were when the rest of your senses escaped you.

Aemond closed his eye and buried his face into your neck as his hands rested at your lower back, his cock twitching inside of you as he breathed in your scent, for a moment unsure how to tell where he ended and you began. All that he knew, all that he could be... You were his, and he was yours, joined body and soul to become two parts of a greater whole.

You rolled your hips forward as naturally as breathing, a pulse of relief flooding your veins as your body relaxed into him with a gratified shudder. You felt Aemond's mouth on your neck, trailing kisses up and alongside your jaw, his breath hot and heady as you leant back far enough for his lips to find your own again, muffling the sounds that you made.

He matched your movement, rocking his hips in time with your own as the pace gathered a sense of urgency, a longing call for release that heightened with every thrust. Aemond could feel how close you already were, the way your muscles tensed, how frantic your moans had become, as you locked your legs around his waist to try to gain some leverage and drive him deeper.

"-Not yet," he gasped, his voice commanding and raw, as he suddenly lifted you again and shuffled up the bed, tossing you onto your back against the pillows.

You whined at the unforeseen pause, watching the way his cock glistened with your arousal as he adjusted his position, yearning for him to be inside you again before you could realise how empty it feels when he is not.

"Put it back in," you pleaded. "Please... Oh gods, I love how you feel when you're inside me."  

Aemond knelt upright, pulling your legs up over his shoulders as he brought the head of his cock back home again.

"You love it, hmm?" he asked as he leant forward and bore his weight with both arms.

"Yes-" you tilted your hips up, chasing that connection, brow furrowed in frustration as you only got as far as the tip.

Aemond let out a huff of laughter, his head dipping even closer as he brought his forehead to rest against yours, "... Do you love me?"

You swallowed, stopping as you finally met his gaze again and felt the weight of the air between you, your chest heaving with each ragged breath. You already knew the answer, and he did too, but neither of you had breathed truth into those words yet.

It was strange how something so simple could mean so much, how the dull flame of desire could burn into the brightest love you had ever known.

You reached up to tuck a silver strand behind his ear, your fingers tenderly stroking his cheek as a sweet smile breaks across your face and said, "always, Aemond."

"Ñuha jorrāeliarzy..." his eye closed as relief washed over him.

"Is that Valyrian?"

"Mmm," he hummed in confirmation. "It means 'my beloved'."

He didn't give you the chance to reply, his lips were already on yours again, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he finally pushed his cock back into your heat. You cried out in ecstasy when he hit you at exactly the right angle, your walls tightening around him as he relentlessly drove into you.

Your back arched off the bed as he pulled himself upright again, his arm pinning your legs in place as he fucked you hard and deep, the sound of nothing but your grateful moans and skin against skin to keep his tempo.

A few thrusts more, and you were approaching the precipice, pleasure sparking through your core as you writhed beneath him. He let out a strangled groan when he felt you tense around his cock, the sight of you so thoroughly undone bringing him closer to the edge, too. He looked down at himself, at the way you took him so perfectly in, at how you trembled as your orgasm peaked, and he couldn't stop himself from falling with you.

You shuddered as you felt him empty himself inside, relishing the immense heat of him when he buried himself to the hilt, a feverish look in his eye as his hips gradually stilled. Your legs slipped from his shoulders as he slumped forward to kiss you, a languid and sweet relief as you brought your bodies flush again.

"When does it end? This want that I have for you," he murmured against your lips, his thumb slowly stroking the outline of your cheek. "I can scarcely remember what I was doing before you distracted me."

"I don't recall either, my love," you whispered.

Aemond releases a content sigh as he unsheathed himself and rolled onto his side, reaching for a nearby towel so that he had something to clean the mess that he had made. He let out a soft laugh and pressed a kiss against your breast as he wiped between your thighs.

You settled back under the covers together, cradled in his arms as if the world outside the room no longer existed, as if there was nothing else worth getting up for. You knew that you couldn't stay like that forever, and that eventually duty would call him away - but for now, you were both exactly where you belonged.

[liannafae]

Heaven was brought to me HAJAUAVDBKDKDJDBDJDKDKKDKD OH MY GOSH SUCH A GOOD READ ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

As You Are

Part 1/? (full fic available on Ao3)

Relationship: Aemond Targaryen / AFAB Reader Word Count: 11,244 Summary: Lady Reader is sent to marry Prince Aemond to forge an alliance between their houses 💕 11k words of pining after one another, and a romantic wedding night that's hard to forget xx Warnings: Smut, 18+ themes

That soft longing surprised you, the way you felt as if he had taken a part of you with him when he was gone, the way you no longer felt quite whole, how quickly you had become so drawn to him. Your Mother had warned you that love could take time or might never come at all, that perhaps even warming to one another might be difficult in an arranged match - but with Aemond it already felt like there was something there.

In those brief touches and stolen glances you found a foundation, the potential for a good life together.

You stood outside the towering doors of the throne room. Your chest was tight with anticipation, eyes blank as you stared at the stone floor and waited for what felt like an eternity, struggling to calm yourself before you heard the roar of the crowd on the other side and it all became real again.

Everyone on this side was quiet - unnervingly so - your own father and mother not quite certain what words of advice or comfort they should have offered you before your whole world changed forever.

"It's time." He said quietly.

If you could have ignored it, you would.

Footsteps and the clink of armour echoed down the hallway as the White Cloaked Kingsguard came into view, accompanying your new husband and his mother Queen Alicent to meet you in the Vestibule so that you may enter the hall as one.

It was a political match, not one born of fondness and familiarity - truth be told. You had never met the young Prince Aemond or any of his family before you had come to the Sept to be wed, and the only words you had exchanged were your wedding vows before you had been whisked away from one another again and brought back to the Red Keep.

He stalked towards you with purpose. His quiet confidence both impressive and so intimidating that even without his Valyrian features or missing eye he would still stand out from a crowd of lesser men. You felt an uneasy flutter in the pit of your stomach when he stopped beside you and tucked his broad arms behind his back with a slight grin.

"My Prince," You curtsey to greet him again, trying to keep your voice calm and even. "Husband."

He observed you a moment, his expression giving nothing away just as it had done in the Sept, but there was an intensity to him now that drew the breath from your lungs and made your eyes widen as he reached down to take your hand and bring it carefully to his lips.

His voice was barely above a whisper, meant for you and you alone, but you felt a heat flush through your body all the same.

"My Wife."

There was nothing indecent about it, as far as everyone else was concerned this was just a man greeting his lady wife for the first time. Yet the way he watched you with his violet eye made you feel as if he could see right through to the bone - so raw and exposed before him that Aemond knew the deepest parts of you that you didn't know yourself. Every inch of your soul laid bare so you could never go unseen again.  

"I trust that the journey back to the Red Keep was without issue?" Queen Alicent addressed your parents, her voice snapping your attention back to the task ahead.

Your mother replied with an "Of course, Your Grace.", but you noticed that Aemond had still not averted his gaze.

Once the last of the pleasantries were said and done you took a deep breath and readied yourself, only slightly reassured by the way Aemond linked his arm around yours when you turned to face the door. You forced yourself to smile as you entered the throne room to great applause, but found that your nerves soon turned to awe once you saw the scope of the festivities.

Hundreds of guests gathered around endless wooden tables and benches. Great houses across the kingdom from Winterfell to Oldtown here to celebrate the union, all sat beneath sparkling black silk woven with silver and starlight that draped from the columns and ceiling - dancing in the heat that rose from the lit braziers that lined the great stone walls. The three headed dragon of the Targaryen's also hung on a black banner on the back wall behind the Iron Throne, surrounded by smaller flags and standards carrying your own house sigil as compliment.

It was a reminder to all those present the strength of this ancient family that you have now married into.

"Remember where you are," His voice was low, warning. "Do not give anything away in front of those eager to take advantage."

You did not even notice that you had been squeezing Aemond's arm until you felt his fingers slip over your hand, carefully easing your grip on him once you arrived before King Viserys to kneel at the conqueror's seat. There he was a sickly figure sat amidst the twisted iron and steel, the King's fading presence almost swallowed by the throne as the years had taken their toll, appearing even frailer still when you compared him to your groom - but you kept your face still and paid your respects as expected.

"Such a comely bride," Viserys smiled and waved his frightfully thin hand to beckon you both to rise. "A good match, better than I had hoped for you. Well done, boy!"

He gave no speech as you had expected, his energy perhaps already spent climbing the steps to the throne before the guests had gathered. However, you noticed the way that Aemond tensed at the compliment as if it were an insult.

Better than he had hoped. Those words lingered in your thoughts for quite some time after you took your seat at the table laid out across the dais, where you sat quietly on your husband's blind side, hardly paying attention when The Lord Hand Otto Hightower delivered a toast to your health and wishes for a prosperous marriage. Better than he had hoped. As if his expectations had been so low.

You cast a glance towards Aemond and search for any fault that might stand out to you but find none on the surface. By all accounts - apart from the patch that obscured his eye - he was handsome in an unusual yet striking way, his strong features somehow appeared softer against the glow of candlelight, and his silver hair flowed loose like silk past his the broad shoulders of his black and red velvet doublet. He wore the colours of his house well, far better than his ailing father - who had quietly been led out of the chamber whilst the rest of the guests were distracted by the festivities.  

For a long time you found it hard to look away from your new husband, until he caught you at least.

He put down his goblet and turned his head so that he could see you properly. "My Lady, did you want something?"

"Oh, I-" You stopped, desperate for an excuse to be less awkward, and grasped the first thing that came to your head. "I just wondered if you would like to dance, my Prince?"

Aemond's brow furrowed, his arm rested against the hard wood of the table as he rubbed his thumb against his forefinger and let out a contemplative hum. "I do not really..." He replied, your eyes catching the way that his throat bobbed as he paused before continuing. "I am not one for dancing, my Lady."

You pressed your lips together and leaned back into your seat, more disappointed than you had expected to be. You hadn't even had a particular desire to take to the dance floor, only using it as an excuse, but the utter disinterest in joining you had left you slightly unsettled.

"I see," You let out a breath, determined not to show it. He had warned you to give nothing away in public and you were not foolish enough to forget so quickly. "So what do you like then? To occupy your time with, I mean."

He was quiet a moment longer, the silence between you interrupted only by a snicker from the nearby Prince Aegon to remind you that you were not truly alone.   

"I read." He finally said and averted his gaze from you, taking another long pause before elaborating, as if he did not know quite how to talk about himself without being pushed. "I spend a great amount of time in our library."    

You forced a smile to cover the fact that on the inside you were wincing, wondering why trying to get to know your new husband was akin to pulling teeth, and cast a glance towards his older brother - sat next to Aemond on the side of his good eye - who had been knocking back wine as if it was water.

You noticed the mercurial smugness etched onto his face as he looked between the pair of you, slurping as he downed the rest of his goblet and placed it back down on the table with a satisfying clunk.

He smirked and gave you a pointed look as if to say watch this.

"Surely your lovely wife does not want to hear about dusty old books." He said a little too loudly and let out a shrill laugh.

For a second you did not understand the purpose of such a flippant remark, but then you saw the way that Aemond's jaw clenched at the sound of Aegon's incessant giggling, and the considered cold stare that fell across his face at the mention of you. Perhaps it was just the stress of the day, or the natural friction between siblings that every family shared, but it did not take you long to realise that there was a deeper tension between the two.

"I do not mind," You tried to conciliate, turning to Aemond and continued. "Do you have a fav-"

"I mean," Aegon cut you off, "You could be enjoying the finer things in life! Wine, women... more wine and women?" He leaned back in his seat as if to ponder the thought. "You really ought to try to have more fun, dear brother!"

Aemond flexed his hand, tapping his fingers against the table as he inhaled deeply and took a moment to decide whether biting the obvious bait would be worth it.

"Should I?" An amused hum played across his lips. "Although, I confess that I find my current endeavours to be a much better use of my time than indulging in your endless hedonism and depravity."

"You-" Aegon began to reply, but it was you that interrupted the flow of conversation this time - the sound of your laughter cutting through the tension to draw their attention back to you.

Aemond's eye met yours the moment you went to cover your mouth, trying to scrape back some modicum of politeness in front of royalty, but instead of the disapproval you had expected you found a warmth that had not been there prior. You had enjoyed his remark. The realisation clear upon his face as the corner of his mouth curled into a slight smile, a small victory shining in his violet eye as he watched and waited for more.

"Do you agree, My Lady?"

"I do," You replied, blinking slowly as you tried and failed to fight the urge to smile back at him. "Aside from reading, are there any other pursuits that you enjoy?"

This time he did not hesitate to reply, the guarded wall he kept up appeared to shrink a little now that he was more sure of you.

"I am also quite skilled with a sword. I often train in the yard with Ser Criston."

"Yet you do not dance?"

You tilted your head to the side, eyes fixed to his as you felt yourself drawn in closer and more curious than before. At first you had asked because you thought you ought to, now you asked because you wanted it.

Aemond shifted in his seat and let out a slow breath, the tightness in his posture relaxing when he gave you his reply:

"Fighting and dancing are quite different."

"I disagree," You smile and shake your head. "'tis all in the footwork is it not? Battle has a rhythm of its own. What good is a swordsman that lacks grounding or the ability to move? To weave through a crowd and pick out a partner to face off against?"

"You paint quite the picture." That slight smile had not left his face.

"Why not try it and find out?" You challenged him a little, raising a brow as you took a sip of wine.

Aemond did not refuse immediately like he had the last time. His gaze shifted low as he considered, then looked back to you again, then to the crowd that stood in the centre of the hall socialising where the dancing would have taken place.

"... You're very insistent."

It wasn't a no.

"If you don't want to embarrass yourself at your own wedding, I am happy to take your place," Aegon reminded you of his presence yet again, this time clasping his brother's broad shoulder and giving it a playful squeeze as he leaned in to whisper the rest, "... Perhaps in your other duties as well."

Although it was hushed you still heard the scandalous remark, scoffing in disgust a few seconds after you allowed it to sink in what he meant by 'other duties' - and it seemed that your husband also found it exceedingly distasteful.  

"You have had enough to drink." Aemond did not shrug Aegon off, but gave him a warning glare that silently screamed a command to remove his hand. Aegon, ever the fool, did not heed it and continued.

"I am still awake and capable, so have not!" Aegon countered, lifting his goblet above his head in a mock toast. "What do you say, Lady Reader?"

But before you could answer, Aemond spoke.

"You have your own wife to occupy yourself with," He grasped Aegon's fingers and peeled them off his doublet, his voice dropping lower and more threatening. "Surely you do not need mine."

Mine.

You could feel the way your heart leapt at that, how strange you felt for enjoying it, how embarrassed you were that you wanted to hear him say it again and again. 

The way he spoke the word was so different to how it had sounded in the Sept as you said your vows - that your were his and he was yours - not gentle or disinterested as it had once been but guarded, almost domineering, as if this was the only way he could make his brother realise that one more insult against you would not be tolerated.

"I may put my hands on our sister whenever I like," Aegon huffed, and you truly felt sorry for Princess Helaena. "To brush up against Lady Reader is such a rare opportunity."

Before you could even think to say something, the screech of Aemond's chair scraping against the stone floor rang out across the hall, drawing everyone's attention to the dais as he slammed his goblet down and slowly stood to face his brother. Sound after sound diminished - first the music, then the raucous laughter from the benches, then the hushed whispers as all the Lords and Ladies gathered on the floor - until an expectant silence blanketed the entire throne room.

Even Aegon was quiet as he cautiously tilted his head up to meet Aemond's eye, perhaps realising that he really had taken things too far.

Your husband did not move for a moment, flexing his jaw and inhaling before he looked away and remembered where he was. His earlier warning to you to be careful what you showed in public temporarily forgotten as concerned onlookers and gossiping courtiers eagerly awaited to see the conflict boil over.

For a moment you thought it might, but Aemond would not give them the satisfaction.

"Come," He said loud enough for everyone to hear, holding his hand out to you with an impassive face. "Let us join our guests on the floor."

He would give them something else entirely.

Your eyes darted between him and Aegon, then back to the rest of the people gathered in the hall, as you slowly brought your hand up to his.

There was still so much tension in his posture as he wove his fingers between yours but he still managed to move with an unexpected fluidity and grace, guiding you away from the table with his other hand ghosting the small of your back.

"You do not have to -" You began to whisper.

Aemond brought his mouth close to your ear, "Yes, I do."

You felt yourself almost stumble as your foot found the step, the tickle of his breath against your neck distracting your focus, a warm flush pooling in the pit of your stomach at the way he brought his hand to your waist to steady you.

"I'm sorry." You laughed nervously.

He said nothing, did not move his hand as you walked to the centre of the room together, did not heed the whispers or the way that people gawked at he close he was to you - this was the only spectacle he would allow. It was a performance to hide the fissures in his house before others could widen those cracks.

You stood side by side and watched as Aemond waved a hand toward the bards and minstrels that had stopped playing, giving them the go ahead to start again as the rest of the floor cleared of guests to accommodate their Prince. Your Prince.

The rhythm began quietly, each stroke of the drum skin building the anticipation as the two of you stepped away in opposite directions, turning to face each other and take it all in as the sound of long string notes eased you into the introduction. You bowed your head and lifted your arm, tilting your neck ever so slightly as you watched him match your movement and take a diagonal step towards you like a knight circling his equal on the field.

He had taken your words to heart then, 'battle has a rhythm of its own', and he was determined to test it for himself.

You let out a deep breath as he dipped out of view to appear on your other side, snatching your hand back as his fingers grazed yours, a teasing grin etched upon your face as you looked him straight in the eye.

You heard the titter of the crowd, amused on-lookers curious to see what he would do next, but Aemond just stepped back - waiting, watching, his gaze fixed on you - arm outstretched, not in invitation but as if he held a sword.

As if it were a challenge.

You took a step forward and raised your own, twisting your wrist as if you were twirling a thin blade above your head before you met him and crossed - lunging for him only to be sidestepped, his silver hair grazing you as he weaved past to the sound of scattered applause.

"I did not ask at the table," He finally spoke as you turned to face him and tapped your foot, "I apologise."

"For what?" You replied and followed his lead, circling each other with your arms held in a matching guarding stance.  

"For not inquiring after your interests when we discussed mine. I take it you like this?"

You smiled. "Yes."  

You both paced around each other so that you were back-to-back, but you would have given anything to continue looking at his face whilst you spoke. There was something so intoxicating about the way he looked at you, with a gentle intensity that made him feel as if he was the only person in the whole room that could see you.

"I also like to read," You continued, looking over your shoulder to find him doing the same. "... And I enjoy riding."

An amused hum escaped his lips, "Have you ever ridden a dragon?"

You were aware that he already knew what your answer would be. You were not a Targaryen, and you had never seen one of their dragons in the flesh, but you humoured him regardless.

"I have not."

He turned behind you and leaned in to whisper, his one hand coming to rest against your hip whilst the other stroked along your arm until your fingers met again. He was touching you more than he ought to in public, exploring, pushing to see what he could get away with.  

"It is not quite the same as a horse."

You let out a breathy laugh, "Is it not terrifying?" you asked and wrapped your hand around his as he raised it above your head.

"Extremely." Your affections danced as he twirled you, "Enough to make one's heart race. There is nothing as thrilling in this world - to be able to soar through the skies, to touch the clouds and chase storms... Men spend their entire lives wishing for what Vhagar and I can do in an afternoon."

He was much more talkative now that it was only you in earshot, and you realised that perhaps that initial reservedness had only been because of Aegon - that he had known that everything he said would be derided or because he did not want to be embarrassed by his older brother's behaviour.

This was a man of so many unspoken words, so complex and new behind the veneer, someone that you would study endlessly and never tire of.

"Would you take me?" You asked, trying to imagine the way his arms would wrap around you on that dragon, as the wind whipped through your hair and the cities seemed to shrink into insignificance below.

"If you want me to." He stopped and smiled. "If she will let you."

You both travelled in time to the music, spinning away from him as you moved to parry and riposte his next attacking movement, and laughed when you heard gasps and claps from the crowd.

Aemond became relentless then, darting towards you to strike again as you both orbited the floor - defending as you fled from him with a wicked grin and the tap of your shoes against the stone. You could feel your blood coursing through your veins, steady breaths quickening as you focused every ounce of physicality on matching him, the push and pull of your dance quickened with the beat until you finally met the moment of conclusion.

Aemond made a disarming gesture, knocking your arm back in a sweeping motion as he closed the distance between you, clutching your waist as he hoisted you into the air, his strong thigh resting beneath your leg, to place you back down half a heartbeat later as the final swell of the song came to its end.

"I thought you said that you did not dance." You breathed, your chest heaving as you tilted your head up.

A rapturous applause filled the room as you both stood there panting, but the cheering and whistles were not enough to pull your attention away from each other as you held his longing gaze. The striking violet of his eye trailed down your face for a moment, watching the way your lips turned up as if he was considering something he should not, as his hand caressed the outline of your dress one last time before he dropped his grip on you and moved away.  

"I don't."

There was a smug smile on his face as he stepped off the dance floor, leaving you behind as the rest of the guests returned to their spaces when the next song began, heading in the direction of Otto Hightower who had been watching from the sidelines. You decided not to follow, to give him some space or room to breathe - seven hells you knew that you needed it - and made your way back into the circle of Ladies gathered on the dance floor that were ready to perform a much simpler carole.  

Out of the corner of your eye you could still see Prince Aegon sat atop the dais, the mock concern he had worn earlier long gone from his drawn face, watching you with a self-satisfied smile as he winked and mouthed the words 'you're welcome' just as you began to move again.  

It all suddenly clicked - why Aegon had been so persistent in spite of the clear animosity he was met with. He had goaded Aemond into dancing with you, knew that poking him would garner that response, and had wanted you to see it.

You felt slight gratitude and disgust all at once, thankful for the favour but displeased with the method, and wondered if he had not meant the things that he said at the table. Had he simply said those words to get what he wanted or was there a kernel of truth to them?

Based on Aemond's reaction though, you doubted his intentions were all that noble.  

The next song came to an end soon enough and in the pause between pieces you looked around the room for your husband, only to find that you had lost him in the crowd - spirited away with no trace or hint to where he may have gone.

That soft longing surprised you, the way you felt as if he had taken a part of you with him when he was gone, the way you no longer felt quite whole, how quickly you had become so drawn to him. Your Mother had warned you that love could take time or might never come at all, that perhaps even warming to one another might be difficult in an arranged match - but with Aemond it already felt like there was something there.

In those brief touches and stolen glances you found a foundation, the potential for a good life together, for more affection than what most people had.

You needed a break from the festivities, some air to clear your head so that you could manage your expectations, stepping off the dance floor to find a balcony or window to refresh your whirring mind. You only made it halfway toward the steps to the gallery before you heard someone call your name, the last person you wanted to speak to at that moment, Aegon swayed toward you as if in a stupor accompanied by the youngest brother Daeron who you had not had the pleasure of meeting yet.

"Going so soon?" His tongue tripped over the words, slurring his speech. "Have I missed my chance to ask you to dance?"

He was drunk, that much was clear, but so were many of the guests, and Aemond was not there this time to act as a buffer.

"Apologies, My Prince. I fear that I have worn myself out." You gave him a watery smile. "Perhaps there is another that would gladly take my place."

Daeron nodded his head at you and went to take his brother by the arm. "Come, let us leave our new sister alone and find our fun elsewhere." He offered a reprieve, albeit brief. You watched as Aegon wiggled his arm away and shook his head.   

"No no - if the Lady is tired we should see her to bed!" He giggled.

"Aegon." Daeron warned.

Your heart dropped when the eldest prince took another step toward you, arms wide with enthusiasm, the thought of him touching you or encouraging others to do so enough to make your stomach churn.

"But it is tradition! Show some respect."

Sure enough it was, although you wanted no part in it.

You had seen it happen at your cousin's wedding to one of the Mallister boys, the way she sobbed and begged the men to leave her dress untouched as they hoisted her into the air to carry her to their wedding bed, the way she had been so quiet and withdrawn the morning after. You had warned your parents that you would not tolerate such treatment, although deep down you knew it wasn't something that she had wanted either.

Women in Westeros seldom had the power to choose their own fate but your Father promised you that much at least - if you did your duty and married Prince Aemond without complaint, they would make sure that you were not mistreated or humiliated in front of the court - but when you looked around for him amidst the crowd, you did not see that familiar face looking out for you with concern.

"Mother and Aemond will not like it." Daeron kept his voice measured, but he cast a cautious glance at you - as if to tell you to flee the first chance you got. "Let us go find him and leave the Lady in peace."

"Where is our brother? 'Tis unlike him to hide from his duty," Aegon stumbled forward, the wine in his cup sloshing onto the floor. "Come Daeron! Pick her up and help her with her clothes, she will not be needing them much longer."

"Aegon!" Daeron hissed.

"It's just a bit of fun!"

You forced a smile and used every ounce of your composure to stop yourself from shaking, not in fear - but anger. "I'm sure my Lord Father will not find it as amusing," You said, but your words were laced with bile and an implicit threat. "And I imagine that the Queen will not be best pleased either." 

You hated this. You hated the fact that you had to hide behind other people's positions, to try to balance the scales enough that he would leave you be, hated that you couldn't reel your hand back and slap him across the face without the fear that it would be the last time you had a hand.

Don't let him touch me. You silently begged The Mother, The Maiden, and any of The Seven that might have cared to keep you safe - although they had never answered your prayers before. Let this be another one of his sick jokes that goes no further.

"You speak too much sense." Aegon rolled his eyes at you, "It's boring."

"My Prince I would really rather not -"

"I have done you a favour tonight by making sure that you had your way with my brother," He laughed, and brought his hand down onto your shoulder, squeezing hard as if to reassure you although it did anything but. "All I want is some entertainment of my OW-"

Aegon let out a pitiful whine as a firm hand suddenly appeared from behind you to clamp around his wrist and twist his grip away, his face scrunched in discomfort when his attention left you in favour of whoever dared interrupt.  

"What are you doing?!"

You felt Aemond against your back, his domineering presence offering an unmistakable sense of relief when he placed his spare hand at your waist so that he could pull you away from his brother to put some space between you. He took a step forward, his gaze formidably cold and jaw tight with a quiet fury, digging his fingers into Aegon's wrist without a care for the pain it caused him.  

"That is enough. You have had your fun."

"Don't be such a twat," Aegon snatched his arm back and staggered a bit off balance, either from shock or too much wine, and laughed as if to shrug the whole thing off. "If we carry her off to your bed now she can't run away scared when she sees... Look, I'm doing all this for your benefit so just -"

"Quiet." His voice was calm - in the same deceptive way that the air feels before a storm begins to lash - stood so still as the atmosphere around him shifted into something heavy, thick, and unyielding. "You can continue to mock and belittle me all you like brother - you can even lie to yourself and dress it up as 'helping' if that helps to ease that depraved conscience of yours. I allowed you to get away with it earlier this evening for the sake of appearances, but you will not humiliate her to get at me again. Do I make myself clear?"

Aegon went quiet, his whole front beginning to crumble as the smarmy smile was wiped clean off his face, giving way to something more broken and unsure than you had ever seen a man wear before in your life.

"I'm fine." You lied, hoping to diffuse some of the tension between them before it could turn into something uglier.

"No you're not." Daeron finally spoke again. "I should've done more to stop him."

And with that Aegon finally decided he had endured enough. Huffing as he shoved his cup into the hands of a passing servant, he skulked away like a miserable fool that had failed to gain the approval of his patrons rather than the prince that he was.

"Take her to the back of the hall. I shall meet you by the door." Aemond commanded, handing you over to his younger brother as he watched the older push past and almost knock Lord Beesbury over.

"Where are you going?" You asked.

"To ensure he doesn't cause any more trouble." He sighed. "I will be back for you, I swear it."

"I shall go after him," Daeron answered. "You two should enjoy your own wedding."

He did not wait for Aemond's reply, instead moving carefully through the crowd in pursuit of his errant brother, walking slow enough that it did not draw further attention. You were grateful for that at least, that none of the guests had noticed Aegon's behaviour and encouraged him, and that you were not a source of gossip and scandal on your first day at court.

"He is a -" Aemond began to mutter until he caught the way you were watching him again.

"A what?"

He paused to consider, a million different insults to describe Aegon all springing to mind as he lifted his arm for you to take. "... A scoundrel."

"Something tells me that was not the first word that came to mind."

You raised a brow and walked with him across the room, weaving your arm around his as if it were the most natural thing in the world now, his other hand coming to rest against the back of yours.

"The first word is not decent for a Lady to hear." He smirked.

"I do not mind suffering some indecency if it means you feel able to confide in me." You teased, although you meant what you said.

He chuckled at that, albeit brief, but it felt good to hear him laugh - to momentarily ease the tension that seemed to cling to his very soul before it could dig its claws in any deeper.

"I would like that." He quietly admitted, taking you back to your seats at the table atop the dais.

The rest of those that had been sat with you earlier had already vacated their positions, finally leaving the two of you utterly alone, but you both still pulled your chairs closer so that it was easier to speak more discreetly.

"I would too." You nudged him a little.

"I have to been seen to be publicly supportive, even if I remain privately disgruntled by his behaviour. Aegon can taunt and mock all he likes behind closed doors but out in the world we must defend our own - he went too far tonight, embarrassed himself and offended you before I have even had the chance to..." His voice trailed off as if he wasn't quite sure how to continue, no matter how desperately you wanted him to.

"The chance to do what?"

"To know you," he said and it felt as if your heart skipped a beat. "To have a fondness for you, perhaps."

His words danced around the obvious conclusion, that even though your match was a planned one, there was space for something much deeper to take root and flourish between you. He wanted to love you, wanted you to love him, the truth of it was plain as day across his calm expression as you reached for his hand and wove your fingers with his.  

You said nothing, not really needing to, instead running your thumb in circles against the back of his hand as you watched his face soften ever so slightly.

"I shall speak with him again in the morning once he is sober," Aemond sighed and continued. "You need not pay him any attention."

"It is difficult not to when one day he may be King." You replied with a half-hearted smile.

"When I cloaked you in the Sept, I brought you under my protection. I will not allow him to bother you as he would a common -" He stopped and let out a hum instead, as if he had caught himself getting wound up again and wanted to moderate his tone. "I am your husband now. You have my name, my honour, my life - and, if necessary, my dragon to remind anyone foolish enough to forget that I am yours and you are mine."

"My Prince..."

Your heart fluttered at the way he leaned into your space, how he was almost as close as he had been in the Sept when he sealed your vows with a kiss - it had been feather-light, curious even, so unlike the intensity you had come to know in the hours since.

"Is that too much? You and I are strangers still, I know." He asked.

You wanted to scream, to tell him that no it wasn't too much - it wasn't enough. You wanted the fire that flickered beneath the surface, yearned for it to set your heart alight as he kissed you properly this time, but you were still in public - still under the ever watchful eye of the nobility, of your families.

So you told him, "We do not have to be." and gave him the confirmation that he needed.

He watched for the way you inched forward, just a little, a hopeful smile on your face as your eyes met his and you felt that lingering uncertainty just melt away.  

"The hour is late." He hummed.

"It is."

Aemond gave you another slightly nervous smile out of the corner of his mouth as he looked down at your hand, still stroking against his, and gave you a gentle squeeze. "Perhaps we should go to bed?"

"To bed or..." you paused, waiting until he looked up at you again. "To bed?"

"I would not force it upon you." He sat a little more upright as he spoke, to give you space to consider.

But you already knew your answer.

"You would not need to."

For the first time in your life you were allowed to want something so carnal, to entangle yourself so irrevocably in another person's body and soul, but even as a married woman it still felt shameful to admit. You could feel a heat rise beneath your cheeks as your heart hammered in your chest, your nerves alight with such a strange sense of anticipation - the fear and elation that came from the acknowledging the truth of it all.

"Say something..." You let out a nervous laugh and whispered, "Please?"

Aemond let out a deep breath that you had not noticed he had been holding, drumming the fingers of his other hand against the table, but never taking his eye off you.

"Shall I have them announce our departure, or shall we just quietly disappear?"

He watched you with a hesitant look in his eye, and it was all you could to stare back and lose yourself in that longing gaze, heart murmuring at the way it slowly trailed down your face to meet your lips and linger there a second too long.

"Yes..." You breathed.

Aemond let out a quiet laugh, "To what?"

You smiled and shook your head to yourself, willing your wits to return before you made yourself look even more of a fool. "To disappear together," your voice was a low whisper, "It may be our duty, but that does not mean that we cannot enjoy it on our own terms."  

He was quiet after that, considered, the expression he wore seemed almost as if he was slightly fascinated at how easy and simple it actually ought to be - that this moment did not have to be one you both dreaded or endured for the sake of what was expected, that you could enjoy it as much as he might.

You allowed your hand to slip from his grasp, fingers carefully stroking along his skin when you withdrew and went to stand on shaky legs, taking the initiative this time as you beckoned him toward a point of no return.

Come. Come with me and I shall give you everything.  

Aemond swallowed before he spoke again, not in a way that made him seem nervous or unsure, but how a warrior prepares for a battle he knows he can win - as if to centre himself, to allow almost a divine certainty to envelop his very being and reforge him into something anew. "Through the door at the back of the hall."

He waited for you to leave first, allowing some distance between you before he also got up from his seat and followed in a way that would not draw attention to your departure, and nodded his head toward Ser Criston Cole once you were over the threshold.

You were equal parts thrilled and terrified when you left the festivities behind, the sound of the crowd growing fainter with every nervous step.

"Where now?" You turned and asked Aemond as he caught up to you, his fingers grazing your sleeve as you both made your way down a long corridor that led out to an open courtyard.

He nodded his head in the direction of an enormous building that was hidden behind a thick interior wall. "No one shall bother us here, not even my brother."

You both continued on to Maegor's Holdfast - the famed castle within the castle where the King and his immediate Targaryen family resided - strolling slowly until members of the Kingsguard came into view at the end of the drawbridge.

"Raise the bridge after we have passed," Aemond commanded. "Lower it for none but my Mother or Sister when they retire for the night."

"My Prince, we were not expecting you!" A tall, bearded brown haired man replied. "Will you stay long? I understood that there are rooms prepared for you and your bride back in the Red Keep."

"We do not want any further interruptions, Ser Arryk." He replied, and the Knight nodded in understanding. It was clear enough that names did not need to be said for them to know your husband referred to Aegon. "Please ensure that we are not disturbed."

Aemond took your hand as you walked along the bridge, quietly warning you to not look down at the dry moat below to see the menacing spikes that jutted up from the stone, and guided you inside toward a twisting stone staircase that led to his personal apartments.

You held your breath as you stepped into the first room, expecting Aemond to be bolder in private and carry you straight off to bed, but you were surprised when he lingered at the door - his hand hovering above the wrought iron bolt as if he was waiting for your approval.

"Thank you." You felt flushed.

"Take your time." He replied and locked the door.

He watched as you took another step forward, inspecting your surroundings as you made your way around the room - noting the living space decorated in green and gold, the bath and dressing room tucked off to the side, and the large four-poster bed that sat atop a platform at the head of the room.

"As Ser Arryk said, there have been rooms prepared for us elsewhere. If you don't like it here -"

"I do." You turned back to him and smiled. "It is yours, My Prince."

"Aemond," He corrected, but there was a feverish look in his eye as he slowly came toward you. "There is no need for titles when we are alone. Call me by my name."

A charged silence hung in their air whilst he waited for your answer, wanting to hear his name on your lips, but there was an anxious flutter that rose in your chest and reminded you that this was all real again - that the touches, the dance, the desire that you felt - it had not been a dream.

"Have you changed your mind?" He asked when you took too long to reply.

"No," You laughed and then softened your voice."I still want to... I just-"  

He whispered, "I'm sorry." and for the first time that evening you saw him doubt himself.

He had latched onto that moment of hesitation, as if he had expected it to come and was prepared, his whole body tensing as he halted his progress toward you. With one glance you could see it all - the questioning if what his brother had said was true, that you would panic and flee at the first opportunity, that you would realise that your longing was misplaced once you truly saw him as he was.  

"Don't be," You reassured and took a step closer. "It's silly, really."

"Then what is it?" He asked so quietly, but his thoughts were betrayed across his face. She is afraid of me. "Have I... done something?"

And just like that it all clicked into place.

The passing remarks and teasing done by Aegon, the back handed compliment that King Viserys had given him - Better than he had hoped - this evening had been death by a thousand cuts for your husband. Despite his earlier confidence he had still mistaken your nerves for regret, for a type of aversion or rejection that was all too familiar to him.

"You have done nothing to displease me Aemond. Quite the contrary, in fact," You spoke candidly, watching carefully, to see if there was something in your expression that could break through the wall that he was ready to build back up again. "It has just been a long day for the both of us."

It broke your heart a little to see that he thought the worst of himself, so you sighed and moved in closer, rested your hand on his upper arm and gently stroked your thumb against the fabric.

He did not flinch from your touch, but did not relax either. So you continued, "I meant what I said back in the Hall, but I -" you paused to let out a breath. "This is new, I have never done this before... I do not know if you have."

Aemond's brow softened at that, at the worry in your eyes. it was not a fear of him, but of the unfamiliar territory that you had to navigate. He recognised it now - as he had learned the day he claimed Vhagar - that talking and dreaming was one thing, but to take that leap and face it was another entirely.

"It was a long time ago." He admitted.

"Did you love her?"

"No," He said and you believed it. There was no nostalgia or sentimentality in his face or tone, his expression shifting into something that looked almost ashamed as he looked away from your gaze.

There was a story behind that look, perhaps one that you might hear one day, something that had left an indelible mark upon him that he wasn't quite sure how to erase - if it even could be. Perhaps that was why he had been so upset at Aegon's interference, why he had made sure that nobody could take that decision from you too.   

"Does it bother you?" He looked up again.

You shook your head, "No."

Aemond eased a little, allowing his shoulders to drop as he slowly brought his hand up and brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. He lingered a moment when you didn't try to pull away, humming and stroking his thumb across the curve of your cheek, with a look in his eye that told you he couldn't quite believe that you were real.

"____." Your name was a whisper on his lips as he breathed his mother tongue, "Gevie iksā..."

"What does that mean?" You asked.

He felt warm as he leaned in, tilting his head down to rest against your own, inching ever closer as he released a shaky breath and sighed, "You are beautiful." and surrendered himself to it.

Aemond had wanted this since the moment he set his sight on you, and now that he knew that you were not just humouring him - that you truly desired it too - he relinquished any persisting guilt or dishonour he felt when you finally met his kiss.

It was slow at first, your lips pressed softly against his for the briefest of moments, testing before giving yourself over completely. You pulled back a little to see him staring, his breath as uneven as yours as he took a moment to gather himself.

"Aemond..." You pleaded, throat tight with a desperate want.  

You felt his fingers at the laces on the front of your gown, gently tugging at the bow and sliding the silk through the eyelets one by one in such an unhurried manner, his gaze almost searing through you as he watched for your disapproval - although it never came - even as your mouth went dry at the way that you bodice fell open to expose the fine linen shift your wore underneath.

His hands carefully grazed the bare skin of your décolletage as he helped to shrug off the top layer of your clothing. It was featherlight, exploratory, curious... Yet you burned for it, were hyper aware of the hitch in your breath and the flutter in the pit of your stomach at the sensation of being touched in a way that you never had before.

You let out a nervous laugh when his hands slid down along the outline of your waist, coming to stop right at the top of your skirts. "I'll move." You whispered, and reluctantly tore your gaze from him as you faced away and granted him access to the lace at the back.

It had taken two servants to dress you in your wedding gown that morning but Aemond seemed more than capable of undressing you all on his own, making quick work of the knot and allowing the pale overskirt and petticoats to fall unceremoniously to the floor. Just like on the dancefloor, you could feel the tickle of his breath against the nape of your neck as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against the tip of your spine, eliciting a surprised gasp from you when you suddenly felt a flutter somewhere else.

Before he had the chance to move or do it again, you whirled and took a small step back to give yourself a moment to breathe. The look of concern he gave lasted for only a moment once he saw the shocked smile on your face, and then his eye began to trail down to take in the silhouette of your body through the thin linen shift you still wore.

"Your turn." You swallowed.

Aemond did not move.

"Would you like to?" He met your gaze again. "Or shall I undress myself?"

"I... I can do it."

You moved in close again and slid your hands up the broad chest of his doublet until you reached the buckle right below the neckline, the cool metal of it fashioned into ornate silver dragons that wove around themselves in an endless ouroboros.

The first one came undone with a satisfying click, all the tension in the fabric suddenly releasing to expose the smooth skin beneath his collar, so you brushed your finger along the outline and took your time with the rest.

Although you had the rest of your lives to explore one another - to touch, to feel, to know in ways that no other could - never again would you be able to experience this first night. So you ignored that instinct for urgency that stirred deep within the depths of your soul in favour of savouring that anticipation, as if it were just as much a part of the final act itself.

Aemond slowly shrugged off his doublet once the last buckle was finally opened, stopping only when you laid your one hand flat against his chest to feel the beat of his heart through his shirt, whilst the other carefully stroked the curve of the muscles on his arms.

Up and up your fingers trailed - from his biceps to his shoulder, along the outline of his neck where it connected to his angular jaw, against his cheek... against his scar. The cut was clean, done with a sharp blade but expertly treated by the Maester no doubt, and sat stark against the paleness of his smooth skin.

Curiosity possessed you the moment your touch met the leather patch that obscured the rest from view, but that wonder was cut short when you saw the way Aemond flinched - his eye wide as if he was almost as shocked as you when you pulled your hand back and offered profuse apologies.

"I thought... I am so sorry, if you don't want to -"

"No," He quickly took your hand again. "No... I was just not expecting you to want to look. I do not wish to scare you."

"You do not scare me Aemond," You spoke quietly, "I wish to see all of you, just as you see all of me."

He smiled slightly, his face softening as his hand slid toward the sleeve of your shift. "Not quite all of you." It was a joke to ease the tension, to deflect from the awkwardness he felt, but the fact that he could find humour in it at all reassured you enough to try again.

"Then perhaps I should not hide." You let out a little laugh and reached for the hemline, pulling it up past your knees to expose the flesh of your thighs - slowly continuing up over your hips, then your breasts, until finally it was over your head and you stood almost bare before him.

Aemond moved back as he shifted the weight from one leg to the other in order to accommodate the growing stiffness in trousers, taking in the sight of you as you took another step closer to him.

"You do not have to show me if you are not ready." You told him, but Aemond shook his head and smiled.  

He said nothing as he untucked his shirt and then reached for the back of its neckline, tugging it up past his shoulders and discarding it atop the growing pile of clothes on the carpet, then brushed his long silver hair out of the way, as your eyes wandered down to admire the way his muscles curved down toward his hips and more.

Then, to your surprise, his hand reached for the strap that kept the patch in place - hovering for a moment before he took one last breath and lifted it away.

It was such a devastating loss when you thought of how beautiful his surviving eye was, what he might look like had that misfortune not stolen that from him - yet what he had replaced it with was oddly captivating in a way. Candlelight danced along the surface of the sapphire that lay in the socket where his eye had once been, and you found it so hard not to stare. 

"Should I put it back on?" He asked.

You had expected to feel pity when you saw it, but all you could conjure was awe - this was a man that had faced such hardship in spite of the status he had, knew what it was to endure.

So you took his hand in yours and brought it to your breast, allowing him to feel the warmth of you as his fingers gently squeezed and cupped your flesh, willing him to continue as you wove your fingers through his hair to rest at the base of his neck.

"No," you felt a tightness in your chest as you replied, "I want you as you are, Aemond."

He answered your desire without hesitation, his mouth crashing into yours to deepen his hold on you - drinking in the relieved moan that escaped your lips as your entire world narrowed to nothing more than his touch.

He was unrestrained, focused, more sure than he had been in the Sept that morning - that first kiss you shared had been for the benefit of everyone else, but this time you were both utterly alone. Aemond poured himself into it with every brush of his tongue, every caress, every ounce of affection that he had to give - it was yours. He was yours - and it sent your heart racing.

His strong arms wound around you and slid down your back until they came to rest against the curve of your ass, gently groping before he lifted you up so that he could carry you at the waist. He grunted slightly at the effort when he felt your legs eagerly wrap around him, but he did not falter as he made his way toward the bed, making sure to put you down carefully as you sank into the mattress under his kiss.

You moaned again when you felt his tongue run across your lower lip, pushing into your mouth to taste you as he positioned himself between your legs and rocked forward to show you just how aroused he was beneath the tightening fabric of his trousers.

"Take them off..." You pleaded, breath hot and unsteady as your husband pulled away.

Aemond watched the way your chest heaved as he shifted so that he was kneeling upright, but just as his hands reached for his belt he stopped, his eyes drifting down between your legs and lingered a second longer than you were brave enough to allow - yet before you could even think about shying away, Aemond's hands had already found you.

He ran slow circles around your clit, although not quite close enough to where he needed to be, testing and teasing for what you might like, observing the way your body responded to his delicate touch.

"How is this?" He wondered aloud, noting your subdued reaction.

"It is strange to have someone else..." You trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

Nobody had ever seen you so exposed before, let alone indulged in you so freely, and although you had a lifetime of being told that it was sinful and wrong to crave something so carnal beyond what was expected from your marital duties - there was a certain thrill to being desired so endlessly.

"Show me?" Aemond's hands slowed as he asked, waiting as you reached down to guide his fingers to the exact point that would be your undoing.

Your head rolled back with a stifled moan as your hands shot up to cover your own mouth, the sensation almost surreal as he stroked a steady rhythm against you and you ground your hips up to meet it. Finally content that you were enjoying his touch, Aemond leant forward to press his lips to yours again - slowly moving lower to nip at the flushed skin at the base of your neck, as he gathered your arousal and pressed a single finger inside.

"Seven Hells..." You hissed.

His laugh was hot against you, "Good or bad?" his finger slid out and then stroked across your clit again.

"Do it again."

So he did.

You keened as he slipped it back in, releasing a moan when he began to stroke and curl his finger in search of that spark of pleasure that threatened to set you alight, all whilst his tongue dragged down the swell of your breasts to find your nipples peaked against the chill night air.  

You had been told of the things that a man might do to take his pleasure, that if he cared enough to prepare it might be pleasant enough for you too, but you had not been warned of this - so you sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the second ease in to join the first, his name falling from your lips as you adjusted to the sensation, your own fingers tangling themselves amidst strands of his silken argent hair as a heat rose in your core.  

"So perfect..." He sighed as you heard the thud of Aemond's boots being kicked to the floor, "My pretty little wife."

Your arousal deepened, his fingers thrusting into you with ease, and you eagerly chased the rapture it brought - moaning, breathing, begging for more as your hips moved in time with his touch. The cold metal of his belt clinking suddenly stirred something in you, and that earlier murmur of gratification found you again when you saw him use his spare hand to unhook the buckle blindly and reach for his cock.

He groaned against your collar, stroking himself to desperately relieve the ache that consumed him, burying his face in the crook of your neck as if to hide how wretched he was.

"Aemond..." Your breathless voice won his attention before he was too far gone. "I'm ready, I want it... I need this."

All he offered in response was a broken hum as he withdrew his fingers, adjusting his weight so that he could pull his trousers down the rest of the way and position himself directly between your legs. Your heart leapt at the hard length of him pressing up against your thigh, moaning as he brought his lips to yours once more and kissed you deep and slow.

You were both utterly naked, skin against skin, your bodies intertwined so perfectly that you wondered why you had needed to wait this long to find one another - that even though you had your whole lives ahead of each other, so much time had been stolen already.

Aemond pulled back one last time with a devastatingly soft expression on his face, all the longing and affection he possessed radiating off him in waves as he looked you in the eye and reached down to line himself up.

You both held your breath for a moment and the sound of your own pulse in your ears drowned out everything else inconsequential.

"You are mine..." You whispered, almost in disbelief, reaching up to stroke your thumb across his cheek one last time before your entire world shifted.  

Aemond released that shaky breath, then gave his honest reply, "... Until the end of my days." and half a heartbeat later he slowly pushed in.

His head dropped forward when he felt the way you tensed around him, your body taking a little longer to adjust than you had anticipated - the fullness of his cock so different when compared with the adept fingers that you had only just gotten used to. You let out an uncomfortable gasp at how big he is once he hit as far as he could go, and Aemond of course latched onto it.

"Am I hurting you?" He lifted his head to check on you.

"A little," You winced, but then gave him a reassuring smile.  "It doesn't hurt, it's just... tight."

"I shall take you slowly then," Aemond sighed and reached for your hand, slotted his fingers between yours and lifted it to rest beside your head as his thumb stroked across the back of your knuckle in a soothing motion. "You said that you wanted us both to enjoy this, remember?"

A swell of emotion washed over you, flowing endlessly like the streams of the Blackwater Rush until you can no longer bear alone the weight of how intimate and safe he made you feel.

"Of all the men in the Seven Kingdoms that I could have married," You crooned, stroking his hair back out of his face as you met his gaze with ardent eyes. "I am so endlessly relieved that it was you."   

You tilted your head up to kiss him, heated lips against his own in a yearning embrace, gasping at the way he withdrew his hips only to sheathe himself again in an achingly slow movement - the sensation shifting away from discomfort to something altogether more pleasurable.  

 "____." He growled your name with a restrained groan and you felt him twitch inside you, his muscles tensed as he tried to maintain that unhurried pace, even though every single nerve in his body screamed for him to be unrelenting.

Part of you craved that, to satisfy the urgency that pooled in the pit of your stomach with each thrust, making sure to spur him along with each hitched breath and moan as you raked your fingers down the length of his back and dug your nails in whenever the promise of pleasure teased your core.

"More..."

You pulled him flush against your skin as soon as you were ready for it, almost desperate to chase the high that seemed to slip away every time you inched closer, and something in your husband just snapped. Aemond propped himself up on both arms, squeezing the hand he held as he pushed his weight down onto it and bent his neck to kiss you again - rougher, more feverish, plunging into you deeper and faster than before.

And suddenly he was hitting you at exactly the right angle, your back arching off the bed with a grateful moan every time his hips collided with the back of your thighs, the sound of nothing but your ragged breaths and skin against skin filling the space between your cries of satisfaction.

"A little longer..." He grunted, as if he could sense that you were close. "Together."

The muscles in his back stiffened at the way you lifted your legs up to wrap around his hips, which allowed him to drive into you with a frantic rhythm that finally carried you to the precipice, clamping down around him with a strangled moan.

As you tumbled over the edge he fell gloriously with you, your shared gratification dulled all thought and reason as you came together, shivering at the way he buried himself to the hilt as your orgasm sparked. It felt like you were burning, skin feverish and slick with sweat as Aemond collapsed against you and buried his head in the crook of your neck - drinking in the scent of your perfume as his hips gradually came to a halt once he was well and truly spent.

Your hands trembled as you slowly wrapped your arms around the width of his back and held him there, stroking and cradling him like that for a while, both of you too exhausted or exhilarated to move or think beyond your current state of existence. He was content with that it seemed, made clear by the way he softly hummed and sank further into your touch, his breathing even and satiated for a time as he pressed soft kisses against your shoulder and unsheathed himself with a tired groan.

"Stay like this." He asked of you, his voice heavy with fatigue.

You let out a soft laugh, "I'm not going anywhere with you on top of me."

"Good."

He nuzzled in closer and wove his arms around you tight, guarding you as if he were a dragon coveting some great treasure amidst the ruins of old Valyria, enjoying one last embrace before he reluctantly peeled his body from yours and lay back against the pillows beside you, and allowed the sweet solace of sleep to consume you both.  

[liannafae]

Holy fuck 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 let me breathe

Hello! I hope you are doing well.

I found a video on YouTube of Ewan and Davey arriving at the McQueen show on Saturday. Ewan looks great!

I don't know if you will be interested in watching it, but here is the link https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X3lWzv575E

Thank you for sending this! Here it is for anyone else who'd like to see:

[liannafae]

Happy birthday to my pookie bear, baby girl princess, love of my life Ewan Robert Mitchell. I hope you'll have the best birthday and to see you flourish more as a person. 🫂✨✨✨🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️😘😘😘😘😘

[liannafae]

I need to be sedated and put down like a rabid dog. Because. I mean. just look. AHJAUSJRVEKJEBKELWKWKWBKDKDKDJZBBXNZKZKXKDLSKNDKDKKDKD EWANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️