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mydemimonde · 5 months ago

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OH. MY. GOD

this was sooo hot!!

A God Among Men

summary | Aemond's veins ran hot with the high of his victory at Rook's Rest, while his mind pondered on what will come next.

tags | spoilers to s2e4 ahead! masturbation (m), cum eating, humping, aemond's so fuckin horny omg, vhagar is tired lol

wordcount | 2k

note | i felt insane writing this, but the new ep was just amazing! i know aemond felt good asf after that, as he rightfully should 🙂‍↕️

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

(divider graphic is from this website)

The sun had only started to dip into the horizon when Aemond returned to the skies. The sky was tainted with a lavender hue, while the remaining whispers of sunlight left streaks of orange and red. When the smoke had settled, Aemond remained assessing the fatality of the battle’s aftermath, as well as making sure Lord Staunton’s head fell from his sword. He made sure to show his face, had let their armies know who exactly it was that led them to victory. Cole was handling Aegon and what remained of his burnt body, but his uncle Gwayne had given him a proud clap on the shoulder.

As he returned to where Vhagar settled, the fire in his veins still burned ablaze with the high of their success. She fought well for him today. His old girl was just as eager as he, sharing a twin spark in their veins that had them thirsty to rain fire. He and Vhagar made for a horrific sight, reducing all else to mere dust under her talons. His aunt’s beast may have been hardened by battle, but it was no match for the queen of all dragons.

The king was a different story. Aemond hadn’t anticipated the drunkard to find his way into the battlefield. His arrival had complicated things, had blocked the younger’s path to proving himself worthy of glory. Taking down Rhaenys was Aemond’s battle alone, and to have Aegon be caught in the crossfire, well, that was collateral damage.

This victory will not be his to claim before the masses. He knew that. The streets will roar for Aegon, sing songs about the battle won in his name, despite the countless efforts of many others except for him. This was Aemond’s place, to get his hands dirty so his brother could forge his name in history as king.

He had taken his time flying back, feeling every bite of the wind that blew his long hair back, and savoring what remained of the day’s lights. His blood still ran hot with fire, his fingertips still buzzing with euphoric bliss. The one-eyed prince was drunk on power and glory. It bubbled down into a fire in his loins, a hardening in his breeches.

Aemond tried to keep his urges at bay, just until he returned home at least, but his body demanded reprieve. With no other eyes on him except for the gods, the kinslayer slowly canted his hips towards the front rise of his saddle. He held onto the seat’s horns, rubbing his clothed bulge onto the firm leather. His battle garb was rougher, stiffer than his usual leathers. It made for a delicious kiss on his cockhead. He rutted against his saddle ferociously, his hips lifting from his seat in desperation. His thighs were starting to burn from his movements, but the fiery lick deep within his belly was only ever starting to grow. Alone in the heavens, Aemond was free to voice his pleasure as he wished, his grunts and groans swept away in the wind with every flap of Vhagar’s wings. This was the first instance he let himself do so, only ever biting back his sounds when he was fisting his cock in his bedchamber, or fucking a whore.

Beneath him, his dragon was growing restless too. Their bond, forged with their souls, let her feel what he felt. There was no doubt a similar spark coursed through her. They were one and the same after all. But his urges grew desperate, and he wished not to let his girl fly like this.

“Lykirī, Vhagar,” he ordered, rubbing on her rough scales to ease her. With a tug on the ropes, Aemond guided his dragon to land. They found their place by a meadow, and with Vhagar’s size, it would be easy to mistake her for one of the hills that enclosed the grass. The night was slowly growing dark too, and Aemond could presume no soul would want to venture out this far at this hour.

The prince did not bother with removing his long coat, nor the belt around his waist. In haste, he merely unbuttoned the last clasps to split the fabric open, before untying his breeches. The night air held a slight bite of cold, and it made him hiss when it kissed his exposed cockhead. His pulse thumped loudly in his ears, while his face burned hot with a fiery vigor.

He had to let it out, lest it started to burn him from within.

His gloved hand made quick work of tugging on his shaft, establishing a swift rhythm. If it were any brighter, Aemond would have seen the flushing of his tip, almost to a purple hue, though under the moonlight, his arousal glistened. Nothing ever made his blood run hot like the addicting glory of proving he was above the rest. He had felt it then, when claiming Vhagar, when Daemon sent men to kill him in sleep, and especially when he had successfully reduced his brother into a pouting, stuttering mess in front of the council. They underestimated him too much, all throughout his youth. They are wise enough to fear him now.

With a grunt, Aemond bit the tip of his glove, pulling his hand free of the leather. His hand returned to his cock, pumping it with an unrelenting urgency. He squeezed his tip with a flick of a wrist, while his free hand descended to cup his stones. It was only recently when a whore had shown him how sensitive his sacks were, and with the slightest caress, it spurned the prince closer to his end. He bit down on his glove harshly, bringing about an aching in his jaw.

He was close, evident in the way the warmth in his belly bloomed upward towards his chest. When he closed his eye, Aemond could relive the glory of his triumph, could feel the fear in Aegon’s betrayal the moment his brother burned him. He could still smell the stench of marred flesh under his nose, while the weight of the catspaw dagger sat heavily on Aemond’s waist.

Aemond knew what was to come, what was needed of him now. The second son was the key to their victory, and it was his divine right to lead him to it. With a moan, Aemond leaned against his saddle once more, grinding his bare cock against the wood.

He could almost see it. The throne. The Conqueror’s crown on his head. With him crowned, the pretender and her brood will burn soon enough. He was not weak like the rest of them, like Aegon or Alicent; no, they were too soft. The gods have deemed him capable of such power, it was only right for him to wield it.

Daemon knew this, he understood it the same way as he. His uncle was the only formidable foe of them all, and Aemond knew he thought the same of his nephew. The fact that he had to send men to slay him in his home, in his bed, was laughable. It flattered him, really. When the time came, he would face the rogue prince head-on, and not hide like a coward. He would face him in the skies, yes, that would be the way to do it.

The ornate embroidery on the leather scratched his tip in a way that made his jaw slacken. He humped the saddle like a bitch in heat, his gloved hand still squeezing his hefty stones. “Seven fucking Hells,” he cursed. Vhagar grumbled, shifting him about in his seat. Leaning back to rest on the cantle, Aemond propped his legs wide open. His hips thrust into his fist, fucking himself into his hand. He was starting to perspire beneath his garb, droplets of salty sweat beading down his neck.

How would he do it? Vhagar was a behemoth compared to Caraxes. The red wyrm may be faster, but Vhagar was a seasoned killer. The way she and Meleys engaged in the skies was proof enough. She was smart, capturing the red queen in her hold before spewing fire. His uncle’s dragon would fare no better.

Or perhaps, he could meet him on the battlefield, where they would fight like mortal men. Aemond was a menace with a sword, expert skills honed by one of the best swordsmen the realm has seen. Cole had even beaten Daemon once, there was no doubt in the younger’s mind he could do the same.

His tip was leaking hard, weeping tears like a wailing widow onto his calloused hand. The wet smack of his cock echoed into the darkness, audible to none but the spirits of the forest. With courage bubbling in his chest, the hand on his stones descended lower, making an experimental press on the space between his rear and his cock. The touch made him shudder, bringing about tingles that spurred him further. He had only seen it done once while passing through the numerous bodies splayed about in Sylvi’s brothel. It intrigued him, making him pause from making his way to their designated corner.

We could try that if you want, she had whispered to him, but Aemond merely shook his head with a huff before moving on. He saw the appeal of it now as he massaged the area with a firm press. The top of his head was starting to grow light, threatening to float away. Low whines poured from his lips, his face scrunching as he desperately sought out his release.

“Please, please,” he whimpered. His arm was starting to cramp from exertion, while his thighs shook. With another vigorous caress on his taint, Aemond came with a cry. His seed spurted out in three thick, hot spurts, painting his hand, his breeches, and the leather of his seat. He had keeled over in overwhelming pleasure, giving himself one last grind against the wood, then another, to spill all he could. He had subconsciously squeezed his good eye a little too hard, and when it opened, specks of white danced in his vision. Through the bleary fog of his climax, he saw Daemon. He saw the life drain out of his uncle’s eyes, and his blood painting Aemond’s hands red.

They were already tainted by the blood of his kin— Luke, Jaehaerys, and Rhaenys. The same scarlet stream that ran in his veins. But as he lifted his hand to look at it, there was no speck of red to be seen. Instead, it was painted by the pearly sheen of his essence, his seed. This was his poison spilled clean. With a pleasant throb in his temples and a heaving in his chest, Aemond took his fingers into his mouth.

It was saltier than he imagined, though not entirely unpleasant. It was rather moreish, making him lick one finger clean after another to get another taste. He had even scooped up the spill on the saddle, swiping the leather clean with his tongue.

Thoroughly pleased, Aemond slumped back, tilting his head to the sky. He was calmer now, with the lightning in his veins wearing down to an ache in his muscles. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on him. Vhagar too. His mount was starting to let out deep huffs, the first telltale signs of slumber, and a warning for Aemond to hasten.

With a firm command, they took to the skies once more. It took little time for them to be greeted by the sight of King’s Landing. The Red Keep stood tall, speckled with flickers of light from the torches by the open windows. There was much awaiting him there, this Aemond knew. It would take some time before Cole and his men returned with Aegon’s injured body, and who knew if the imbecile would still be alive then. The second son was being presented with a golden opportunity. With the king and the Hand gone, it was up to him to commandeer their ship. His mother will think him capable, will finally see she had put the wrong son on the throne. It was no matter to Aemond now, he held little grievances, especially when his efforts were starting to come to fruition.

They will kneel before him soon enough. They will learn it will be better to submit than to resist. After all, it would be unwise to incur the Kinslayer’s wrath.

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mydemimonde · 5 months ago

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SUCH A MASTERPIECE!!!!

all i see is aemond and me idc idc

|| REPOST TO SAVE AN ARTISTS LIFE 🙏||

A poor attempt at a background ,but aemond and idk maybe Alys maybe a poor attempt at a OC

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mydemimonde · 5 months ago

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Who was this woman? A serving wench who dabbled in potions and spells, says Munkun. A woods witch, claims Septon Eustace. A malign enchantress who bathed in the blood of virgins to preserve her youth, Mushroom would have us believe. Her name suggests bastard birth… but we know little of her father, and less of her mother. Munkun and Eustace tell us she was sired by Lord Lyonel Strong in his callow youth, making her a natural half-sister to his sons Harwin (Breakbones) and Larys (the Clubfoot). But Mushroom insists that she was much older, that she was wet nurse to both boys, perhaps even to their father a generation earlier.

Though her own children had all been stillborn, the milk that flowed so abundantly from the breasts of Alys Rivers had nourished countless babes born of other women at Harrenhal. Was she in truth a witch who lay with demons, bringing forth dead children as payment for the knowledge they gave her? Was she a simpleminded slattern, as Eustace believes? A wanton who used her poisons and potions to bind men to her, body and soul?

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mydemimonde · 5 months ago

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im wet

EWAN MITCHELL making mouth sounds and saying 'mm' for 13 seconds.

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mydemimonde · 6 months ago

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mydemimonde · 6 months ago

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'Honey, Are You Coming?' (Baby Said, Part 2) — Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

divider is from @plutism

a/n: hello! i'm soooo so sorry for taking too long in doing the second part of baby said, college and work are driving me insane and i barely have time to write. i really hope you like this

Summary: After that mindblowing night after the bar, you find yourself waiting for Aemond's call, growing slightly disappointed.

Words: 4691

Warnings: +18 (minors dni), female reader, no use y/n nor specific physical description, swearing, dirty talk, hand kink, praising, tiddy sucking, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slightly dominant aemond, riding, no proof reading! english is not my first language, i apologise in advance if there are any mistakes.

It’s been five days and you haven’t heard anything from Aemond. Not a call, not even a text message. Nothing. You started to feel a little bit anxious and somewhat offended. Perhaps he didn’t like you that much, or worse, he had a girlfriend and still had sex with you. You shake your head, trying to get rid of those thoughts, focusing on the task at hand.

A year before your graduation, you got a job in a small publishing house, working as an editor. You didn’t earn a fortune, but it was more than enough to make ends meet and pay rent. Still, you were trying to find a job in a bigger place, freelancing didn’t appeal to you and you were actually looking for a new flat, closer to the capital, which meant higher prices.

“For fuck’s sake,” you hear Arianne curse next to you, making you startle. With a frown, you lift your head to look at her. “You have been eyeing your phone for the last fifteen minutes, it’s quite annoying,” she says, half serious, half joking. The brunette tilts her head and places a hand on her hip. “He hasn’t called you yet, has he?”

You shake your head, pursing your lips. “I don’t know why it affects me so much… it was just a one night stand” you explain, running a hand through your hair and sighing.

“Perhaps he’s busy…” your friend tries to reason with you, seeing how defeated you looked. She gets on her knees and grabs your hands. “Hey, I don’t want you to feel like rubbish, you shouldn’t feel like this, even if he was a mindblowing fuck.” She says, quoting the words you said when you told her about that night, giving her all the nasty details over a cup of wine during dinner. “Have you checked his socials?” She asks, to which you nod.

“Yep. Private account on Instagram, no Twitter. Didn’t even bother to check Facebook, no one uses it nowadays” you move your hand in the air. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t ask a following request.”

“What’s stopping you?” She asks with a frown and clicks her tongue in annoyance when you shrug. “I swear to God…” she mutters under her breath before plopping down on her chair, opening an incognito tab in her browser, as if what she was doing was illegal.

You frown and move your chair next to hers. “What are you doing?” You watch as she types his name on the search bar. You read the first few results with narrowed eyes. They scan the many search results populating the screen, but they focus on one particular title. Meet the Targaryens: The Powerhouse Family Behind ‘Valyrian Press’

Oh God. “Click that one…” you point at the title and Arianne immediately clicks. The webpage loads quickly and a big picture pops up on the screen. Your eyes fall to Aemond’s figure in the family picture. He was looking into the camera, a serious expression on his face, his hands into the pockets of his black suit. He wore all black.

Arianne turns to look at you. “You didn’t tell me this snack was the son of Viserys Targaryen…”

“I didn’t know!” You whisper-shout, shrugging. “I had no idea he was the son of Viserys Targaryen, though the surname did ring a bell.” Just when she opens her mouth to speak, you interrupt her, lifting your index finger in the air. “Hey, it wasn’t a date, it was a fuck, okay? We didn’t just sit down to talk about our families” you explain, defending yourself. She lifts her hands in surrender.

“Didn’t say anything at all.” Your friend turns again and skims the article. “Well, my dear friend, you had sex with a single billionaire, son of the owner of one of the most important publishing houses in the country. If you don’t send that Instagram request, I will do it.” Just when she finishes saying that, your phone vibrates. Your head jerks and you extend your hand to grab it, your eyes widening when you see the notification. Arianne frowns. “Is it him?”

You nod, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Arianne gasps and chuckles as you open the text message.

Hi. I apologise for not writing sooner. May I call you?

You fight the urge of jumping up and down and screaming of happiness, and instead you take a deep breath to calm down the butterflies in your stomach and type an answer, your hands shaking in excitement.

Hi there :) Sure, you can call me.

Just a minute after you sent that message, your phone vibrates once more, and you take the call, eager to listen to his voice. “Hi?”

“Hello, gorgeous.” Gorgeous. You hear him hiss. “I’m so, so sorry for not calling you back. I have been quite busy these days, travelling and accompanying my father to so many meetings…” you can picture him moving his hands around, explaining things to you. “I meant to call you right after that night, but work got in the way. I hope you accept my apologies…”

You smile against the phone. “Don’t worry, Aemond. It’s okay, I suspected you were busy,” you reply, biting your lower lip to try to stop a laugh, seeing Arianne making faces at your words and mouthing ‘I told you’.

“Anyways, I’m in the city right now… are you at work?” He asks after a soft sigh and you find yourself twirling a strand of your hair like a high school girl. How pathetic, you think.

“Yes, but I finish my shift at 5pm. We can grab a coffee or a sandwich, if you want…” you suggest.

“Of course, darling. Give me your address, I can pick you up and we can go to Honeyholt Bakery, they sell delicious lemon cakes.” You beam, lemon cakes were your favourites, but you never told him that. You give him your job’s address before saying goodbye and hanging up.

You plop down on your chair, a dreamy look in your face as you look at the ceiling. You feel Arianne’s gaze on you, and you look down at her. She slowly shakes her head, a smirk making its way on her face. “I sooo envy you, lucky bitch” she jokes, making you giggle.

Knowing that you were hours away from meeting Aemond was all the motivation you needed to get down to work quickly, going over the document you had to edit before sending it to the executive editor. You finish a bit earlier than expected and grab your jacket and purse, kiss Arianne’s head and head towards the exit to wait for Aemond. You leave him a message letting him know you were ready, and not even a minute later you receive his reply. On my way ;)

Less than ten minutes later, you see a black BMW with tinted windows steering around the corner, slowing down and parking right in front of the doors of the building. The driver’s windows roll down and you see Aemond, with his hair combed back and wearing sunglasses. Fuck me.

He smiles at you and you smile back. “Hello, darling.” His voice is smooth and it makes you swallow hard. He steps out of the car, not before shifting the gear level into park mode and pulling the lever so that the car stays right in place.

“Hi, Aemond” you reply, your eyes sweeping over his lean figure clad in some brown polished shoes, black trousers, black shirt and black leather jacket. A lot of black. He looks delicious. He leans in to kiss your cheek, his expensive cologne filling your nostrils.

He places a hand on your lower back and indicates you to get into his car, opening the door for you, which you thank. He closes the door and walks around his vehicle to get inside, and you take a moment to look around, noticing how clean it smells. There’s music playing, the electric guitars and drums echoing in the small space. When Aemond gets inside and closes the door, he turns the volume of the radio down, but the music is still audible. You can recognize the song very clearly.

Meet me there where it never closes

Meet me there, I'll give you your roses

All is fair in love, oh-oh-oh

Honey, are you coming?

He takes his glasses off and begins driving the car at a normal speed as he talks. “How have you been, gorgeous?”

“I’ve been great… I have a lot more work now, but it’s so fulfilling,” you reply, your gaze falling to his hand on the steering wheel. He looks so confident as he drives, and you suddenly feel your cheeks getting hot, so you move your gaze to the window, watching the shops as you pass by.

Aemond smirks and glances at you. “I’m happy for you. The most important thing is enjoying and loving what you do” you hum at his answer, showing your agreement. “You work at a publishing house, right?”

“Yeah, I work as an editor, have been doing it for a year now” he raises his brows and nods.

“So I take it that you’re comfortable in that place…” his eyes are fixed on the road, concentrated on driving.

You purse your lips to the side, humming. “I’m actually looking for other publishing houses. I’m thinking about moving closer to the capital, and the rent is obviously higher in those areas, so I need a better wage.”

Aemond nods, taking in your words. “Well, my father has a publishing house. Valyrian Press, you might have heard of it.” Your eyes widen in surprise —fake, of course,— at his words. “There are some vacancies, and the pay is really good.”

“Your dad owns Valyrian Press?” He hums. “Oh, that’s why your surname rang a bell…” What a big fat lie.

Aemond huffs a laugh. “You’re telling me that you didn’t google my name?” How the fuck does he know things?

“Not me, my friend did.” He chuckles. “It never crossed my mind to google anything… but perhaps I did look up your social media…” you trail off.

Aemond chuckles again, the sound making your heart flutter. “Well, I barely use social media, I have an Instagram account but I’m not very fond of those apps…” You look at him and shake your head, letting out a soft chuckle. He parks the car outside the café. “What do y’wanna eat, darling?”

You. “Uhm, a cappuccino and some lemon cakes would be fine.”

He winks at you and smirks. “Excellent choice. I’ll be back soon” and with that, he exits the car. You watch him as he walks towards the bakery, biting your lip at the sight. You rest your head against the back of the seat, sighing and thinking about that man you barely know. You don’t know why, but you feel so drawn to him and you want to kick yourself because you’ve never felt like this for anyone. Not even your ex, for God’s sake.

You see Aemond getting out of the shop with two cups in one hand and a small white box with a yellow bow on top on the other hand. You stretch to get the door open, making it easier for him to get into the car.

“Thank you, beautiful” he offers you a smile and you sit comfortably in your position. He hands you the coffees and sets the box in the middle of your seats before closing the door and starting the car. “Where would you like to go?” He asks you, grabbing his cup and taking a sip from it.

“Wherever you want, Aemond… is there any specific place you wanna go?” You ask as you look at him, your eyes momentarily drifting to his hand on the steering wheel, the other one wrapped around the cup. Fuck, how is it that his hands were enough to make you go wild, the mere though of having them roaming over your body, pushing your legs apart, grabbing your hips, squeezing your tits, choking you… and his fingers, God, his long fingers.

“Hey!” He calls you, startling you. His glances at you once again, smirking when he sees you blinking and wide-eyed. “I asked you a question…”

You blink a few times more, frowning. “Uhm, sorry… what?” Your voice comes out meekly as you try to gather your thoughts. He stops at the red light.

“I asked you if you wanted me to take you to your apartment…” when you don’t answer, he huffs a laugh. “Cat got your tongue, hm?” He murmurs in a husky voice. He places his cup on the cup holder and extends his arm, his left hand coming up to your face to cup your cheek. “You like my hands, don’t you?” Aemond looks at you, giving you a smug smile when you mutter something inaudible. “You think I didn’t notice how you were staring at my hands, love?” You swallow hard as his thumb grazes your lower lip and you take the opportunity to open your mouth slightly, the tip of your tongue licking his digit before sucking it, the sensation going straight to his cock.

You hear him curse under his breath, his chest heaving. He sees the light going from red, to yellow, to green out of the corner of his eye and, reluctantly, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, fearing that if you did that again, he might lose control of the vehicle. Before he retreats his hand you take it and guide it inside your jeans, letting him feel you.

“Fuck, you’re soaked” he mutters as he feels your wet folds, his other hand gripping the wheel tightly, his knuckles going white. You keep him there, pressing his hand against your cunt to get some relief. “Holy shit, babygirl, wait…” he retreats his fingers from your cunt and you whine. “Shh, relax…” he shushes you, his fingers quickly undoing the button of your jeans and pulling down the zipper to get more space.

He hisses when he gets his hand inside your lace panties again, his middle finger trailing up your entrance, gathering some of your essence to rub your clit with his digit. “Oh, fuck” you curse, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as the pad of his finger rubs lazy circles over your bud.

“God, love, you’re really wet… thinking about my hands turns you on, huh?” He taunts you, a low growl rumbling in his throat when he feels your cunt sucking his finger in. Aemond slides his finger inside you and you mewl as he starts pumping it. He continues driving, his gaze focused on the road ahead, his mind racing. “Want another finger, baby?”

“Hmm… ngh… yes, Aemond- oh!” You squeak when he inserts his index finger. You grip the grab handle above the window, trying to hold onto something as his fingers continue his work. “Fuck, right there” you moan when his fingers curl up, hitting your sweet spot with ease.

Aemond hums, curling them again and increasing the pace of his fingers. You were thankful the windows were tinted, otherwise passers-by would see what you were doing inside that car. Aemond’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he feels your cunt tightening around his fingers, you are so close to cumming so he slows down the movements.

“N-no, Aemond, don’t stop, I’m so close…” you complain in a whine, and he groans lowly.

“Baby, I’m so fucking hard right now and if you continue making those beautiful sounds I might cum in my pants and crash this vehicle. I need you to tell me where you wanna go, I can’t focus on the road if I have you squeezing my fingers like that…” he explains, panting a little bit.

“Pull over… drive to a parking lot, I don’t know…” you plead, bucking your hips slightly. You don’t know how long you can last, not when the heel of his palm is pressing against your clit, eliciting whimpers from you.

Aemond drives towards the nearest parking lot he finds, his fingers moving inside you again at a relentless pace, making you gasp. “Fuck, baby, I can feel you getting closer, you’re squeezing my fingers so tightly…” He says through gritted teeth, smirking when you let out a high-pitched moan the moment his fingers reach that rough patch inside you, making you jolt. “C’mon, pretty girl. Cum all over my fingers, wanna feel you…” he coaxes.

He grunts when you press your legs together as you come, head thrown back and jaw open, incoherent words and moans spilling past your lips. His fingers continue working inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. He pulls them out, and you nearly choke as you watch him, through half-lidded eyes, how he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean and moaning at the taste.

“You taste incredibly sweet, baby. You have no idea how much I need to put my cock inside you” you moan in response, head spinning at his words. He enters the parking lot and rushes to find a spot, parking the car immediately. “Come to the back” he orders, and he peeks around to check that no one sees you in the almost empty place.

Both of you get to the back of the car, almost throwing yourself at him. His lips capture yours in an intense kiss, his hand cupping your neck to pull you closer and angle your head to deepen it while the other rests on your waist. The tip of his tongue presses slightly against your lower lip and you gladly part your lips, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You can taste the strong coffee in his mouth.

Your hands trail down his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your palms. Aemond growls into your mouth when one of your hands cup his evident bulge, palming him through the fabric. “Holy… shit…” he mutters against your lips. You take the opportunity to leave open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, his neck, all the way to his earlobe.

“Want to suck your cock, Aemond…” you purr in his ear before taking his earlobe between your teeth, nibbling softly as you lower the zipper of his jeans, slithering your hand under his boxers.

“F-fuck…” he curses through gritted teeth, closing his eyes for a moment as you pull down his jeans and boxers in one motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock straining against his stomach and you move in your place, bringing your legs up to kneel next to him, your ass propped up in direction to the window. Your index finger grates the weeping tip, making him shudder. “Don’t tease… put your mouth to work, needy girl” he instructs, his hand landing on your ass with a loud smack, making you yelp.

You swallow hard and lick your lips as you lean forward, your right hand wrapping around his base. Like a lollipop, your tongue licks his cock from the base to the tip, eliciting a hiss from him. The hand that smacked your ass comes to rest on the small of your back, hiking up your blouse and rubbing circles on your skin.

Your lips wrap around his tip, sucking it gently and swirling your tongue around it. “God… yes, like that…” he breathes out, his voice rough. You stroke his shaft with your hand in rhythm with the movements of your mouth, up and down his length. Your hair falls to the side but Aemond is quick to grab it, putting it in a ponytail as your head bobs up and down. He resists the urge to buck his hips up, trying not to hurt you.

You stop stroking him and move your hand to cup his balls, which ignites something primal in Aemond. He can’t help but thrust his hips upwards into your mouth, making you moan. “Fucking hell, you’re taking me so deep into that wet mouth… love it” he coos, biting his lip at the sight of your mouth around him and your head bobbing up and down. His cock is covered in your saliva, glistening under the dim lights of the parking lot.

You hollow your cheeks as you go up, your hands wrapping around his base again, adding a bit of pressure. That makes him growl and pant, the sounds he makes going straight to your cunt. He continues praising you in choked, needy moans, telling you how good your mouth feels on his cock, how he’s going to wreck your pussy immediately afterwards, his hand guiding your head up and down his length. You feel him twitch in your mouth, the signal that he’s close to cumming.

“Are you coming, Aemond?” You ask, your hot breath fanning against his length before taking him deep into your mouth, gagging around him.

“Y-yes… s-stop… I’m so close…” he warns, the obscene wet sucking sounds that fill the car making him let out a strangled moan. He pulls you away from his length, a trail of saliva still connecting your mouth to him. You use the palm of your hand to wipe your mouth, licking your lips and looking at him.

“Why did you want me to stop?” Your hand presses on his inner thigh, making him sigh deeply and let go of your hair.

“Because when I cum, I want to do it deep inside your cunt, alright?” He explains as he leans his back against the seat, his words making your jaw drop. “Now, get rid of those jeans and ride me.”

You eagerly do as told, putting your legs down and shimming out of your jeans and soaked panties. You toss them aside and straddle him, your bent knees on either side of his hips, your chest pressing against his given the constricted space you are in. His hands immediately land on either side of your hips, guiding you to sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan at the contact, your eyes close as he lets you adjust to his size. When you open your eyes you find his hungry gaze on you, his pupils dark with lust. He licks his lips, bringing one hand to cup your neck and pull you down to kiss him. The kiss is slow but passionate, sensual. You find support on his shoulders and you start moving your hips, finding the right rhythm.

Aemond pulls back to breath, his lips hovering over yours as you rest your forehead against his. His fingers grip your hips tightly, certainly leaving marks. “Hmm…” he hums, feeling how your cunt sucks him in, engulfing him. “D’you feel me deep inside you, baby?” He murmurs against your lips.

“Y-yes… you’re so deep, Aemond,” you reply in a shaky whisper. You feel his breath against your face due to the close proximity, hearing the low grunts and whines that leave his lips. His hands move from your hips to your abdomen, lifting your blouse to feel your skin, his touch setting your body on fire.

“No bra?” His eyes widen in surprise and he smirks. “Naughty girl, I might have to punish you…” He taunts as he pulls the straps of your blouse down, freeing your breasts. He mutters a curse and dives into your chest, his hands bringing your tits together, squeezing as his tongue swirls around your right nipple, making you arch your back against him. “You fit perfectly in my hands, baby…” he squeezes your tits once more, making you throw your head back. Aemond leans forward and leaves wet kisses on your throat, sucking the junction between your neck and shoulder as his big hands knead your tits.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you increase the speed of your movements, letting out desperate whines as the tip of his cock bullies the rough patch inside you. You’ve never been this wet before, the squelching sounds making you blush furiously in embarrassment. “Fuck, you’re so wet… can’t wait for when you soak my cock as you come” those dirty words he mutters against your ear have you gasping loudly and furrowing your brows. Aemond rests his forehead against your shoulder, the sounds escaping his lips coming out muffled.

“Aemond… I’m… fuck, I’m so close…” you speak in a choked moan, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bounce on his dick.

You feel him smirk against your skin, his teeth nibbling your collarbone. “Yeah, I can feel that… you’re so tight, love, you feel so fucking good” he praises, his voice hoarse and deep. Aemond lifts his head from your shoulder, looking up at you, his eyes roaming over your face. “Look at me” he demands in an authoritative, stern voice. You do as told, locking your eyes with his. “Do not tear your gaze away from me, you understand?” You nod frantically, your brows knitted together in pleasure.

His hands lower to your backside, gripping your ass tightly, helping you as you move on top of him. He brings his legs together, plants his feet on the floor and starts bucking his hips up, meeting your movements. Your eyes close shut involuntarily, wanton and sinful moans spilling past your lips as he pounds into you. “I said, fucking look at me” he says through gritten teeth, and you obey, as hard as it is to do so.

His eyes roam over your face, committing every detail to memory. “Y’gonna cum all over my cock, hmm? Can feel you squeezing me.” You nod, unable to speak. His hands grip your ass tighter, his nails digging into your skin. “Come, baby… let go and soak me, c’mon,” he gives your ass a loud smack, and that does it to you. His mouth is agape as he watches you come undone above him, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and lips parted as you gasp for air. “That’s it, baby… I got you.”

You feel blood rushing through your ears, your eyes flutter close and your legs tremble. You feel Aemond’s hard grip on your ass as he keeps pounding into you, chasing his own release. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…” his hips stutter and his arms wrap around your waist tightly as he cums deep inside your cunt, a guttural groan coming out of his lips, the sound muffled as he hides his head in your shoulder.

Both of you stay there, panting and holding each other as you come down from your intense orgasms. You feel like you’re walking on a cloud, feeling boneless. Once you finally catch your breaths, he lifts his head to place a kiss on your lips. He pulls back and huffs a laugh.

“Shit… are you okay?” He asks, placing soft kisses along your collarbone, bringing you back to earth. You struggle to find the words, but eventually open your mouth to speak.

“Yes… I feel amazing…” he chuckles at your answer, your voice coming out croaky.

“I’m glad. Did I fuck your brains out?” He smirks when you nod, and places another kiss on your lips as his hands rub soothing circles on your back. He rests his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes. You untangle your arms from around his neck and place your hands on either side of his face, admiring his features. “I was serious, you know. About the vacancies,” he explains to you. “I can ask my father to arrange a job interview. I’m dead serious, darling.”

You chuckle, the sound of your soft laugh making him smile. You tilt your head. “Hmm… I think you’re just trying to get into my pants…” you tease, to which he chuckles.

“But I already did. Twice” he replies in a low voice, making you giggle. “Oh, and one more thing.” He adds, looking at you, his playful expression turning into a soft one. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Your lips curve into a smile. “Yes. I would love to.”

taglist: @melsunshine @tsujifreya @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #moder aemond targaryen #modern aemond targaryen smut #hotd #hotd smut #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fic #mydemimondewrites

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mydemimonde · 6 months ago

Text

ESTAS DEMENTE

warning: contenido sexual explícito

Ya es la tercera noche en el desierto y cada vez que lo pensás, te brotan las lágrimas de desespero ¿Y qué si los mensajes de rescate no llegaron a tiempo? ¿Y qué si tu esposo Aemond desesperó y salió a buscarte pero su coche también falló?

"¿Si temió porque nunca llegamos y está muerto ya?" Tu llanto se agrava mientras te tomas el rostro dañado por la sequía de la arena y el verano, aún así es de noche y estás frente a una fogata porque el clima cambia rotundamente de noche.

"No seas tan trágica, Aemond sabrá que adentrarse en el desierto es peligroso" Aegon te envuelve en una manta de cuero que lo viste, a tu vista su gran espalda percudida por la arena y rasgada que simula no tener frío para abrigarte a ti.

"¿No ser trágica? Es fácil para ti que tu esposa Helaena te esperará en casa como Penélope a Ulises, tejiendo y destejiendo. Mi esposo es capaz de venir a buscarme a pie" exclamas indignada ya harta de que minimice la situación. No se hablaron en todo el día porque él pareciera disfrutar estar lejos de la familia, de su tonta esposa, de su exigente madre y sobre todo de su arrogante hermano que es tu marido. Disfruta estar a solas con vos incluso si el asunto es de vida o muerte.

"Pues sería muy tonto de su parte venirte a buscar a pie" sonríe burlón y celoso mientras sus labios se tornan morados, al fin y al cabo es el único que habla tu idioma porque una comunidad de nativos los está acogiendo en su tribu. Molesta pero conmovida lo cubres con tu manta y sus cuerpos prontamente comienzan a recibir el calor.

"Acuéstate" murmura y sin previo aviso te abraza fuerte para no morirse de frío. Algo en ti late tanto que no te deja dormir. De repente logras dormirte pero al despertar, al abrir los ojos te encuentras con sus pectorales remarcados y sucios por el desierto. Observas su barba justo cuando sale el sol y casi tanto como a este astro un día de invierno. La barba está crecida, como tu esposo jamás la dejó crecer, Aegon tampoco se dejaba crecer la barba quizá por eso te sorprendió tanto aquellos días esos vellos dorados. El despierta y sonríe al verte observando su boca y con la excusa del viento te acomoda el cabello que te cubre el rostro porque también quiere mirarte. Con la excusa de brindar calor junta su pecho plano con el tuyo y sus narices chocan, ambos buscan dormir ya que tu eres la esposa de su hermano. Pero no lo logran.

La única vez que habían olvidado que Aemond era tu esposo, habían emprendido por diversión un viaje al desierto y todo salió muy mal. Entonces pareciera que ya no buscan olvidarlo. Él no se puede dormir, tus pechos junto a su pecho, tus muslos junto a sus piernas, la hebilla de su cinturon rozando tu vientre no le permiten pensar en dormirse. Y ahí piensas que se va a olvidar que su hermano es tu esposo, que se olvidará como aquella vez que se emborracharon y se besaron con pasión desubicada. Pero totalmente ubicado, y a tu pesar porque lo quieres junto a tu cuerpo desubicado, se levanta.

Detrás de él camina unos metros hasta donde está el coche y te comunica que ya lo arregló y podrán volver a casa. Pero ninguno de los dos quiere marcharse allá donde las obligaciones de la familia esperan, sus hijos y su esposa, tu marido y su exigente vida.

Aegon y tú suben al coche, hacen unos cuantos metros y antes de que se termine el desierto, se miran fijamente recordando todo lo malo pero también todas las noches que durmieron juntos por el frío, también el motivo que los condujo hasta allí. Se bajan del coche y se sientan en el capot, ninguno dice nada. Él se ha ocupado demasiado de aprender a ser un hombre respetuoso, Aemond muchas veces lo enfrentó porque te miraba descaradamente.

Te le acercas, sus piernas lo piden pues se abren dándote paso y prontamente con la libertad que el desierto te dio, le besas los labios no sin antes observar y acariciar su barba dorada.

"Debemos irnos, nena. Estabas tan apresurada para volver" murmura entre tus labios buscando sostenerse y que todo quede en un beso como siempre, que no pasen los límites.

"¿De verdad quieres irte?" sonríes abriendo tu boca lentamente, disfrutando de la textura de su barba en tus labios y esperando que te bese. Te aprieta la cintura y te acerca a él, prontamente sentís tu vientre rozar su entrepierna. Su lengua se entromete lenta en tu boca mientras busca estratégicamente que su bulto acaricie con violencia el interior de tus piernas.

"Quisiera quedarme para siempre aquí, ser un salvaje contigo y no hablar" vuelve a murmurar gravemente con su pulgar acariciando tu labio.

"¿Entonces cómo sabremos qué necesita el uno del otro? ¿Cómo sobreviviremos?" le preguntas mientras desabrochas su camisa encontrándote con su pecho tan dorado y crecido en sus vellos como su barba divina. Él te besa el escote rasgándote la piel con el filo de sus bigotes mientras te acaricia la cintura bajando lentamente tus pantalones. Sus labios filosos se entrometen faltando el respeto de tu sostén y llegando a uno de tus pezones, mientras que suspiras. Cada vez más fuerte se vuelve el placer y el verano allí en final del desierto, cada vez más fuerte te embiste contra su bulto ya rígido y un gemido se te escapa. Él que mueve su lengua y sus dientes contra tu pezon decide hablar mientras se deleita con la humedad de entre tus piernas que se delata al traspasar el pantalón.

"No hacen falta las palabras cuando verdaderamente necesitamos" te dice y a la arena cae tu ropa interior. Te deshaces de sus pantalones y apenas ves su ropa interior que también cae, ya que te sube encima suyo para que, así como en sus sueños más prohibidos, empieces a dar horcajadas que rápidamente enlazan sus humedades más íntimas. El capot promete y jura abollarse ante la fuerza de gravedad que desafías hundiéndolo en tu flor inmediata mientras le rasgas la nuca con tus uñas y él acaricia desafiante tu clítoris. El placer se denota en sus respiraciones y pronto como si transitaras un orgasmo permanente, tu cuerpo parece gastarse de energías. Aegon es mucho más grande entre tus piernas que tu esposo y deseas que vaya aun más profundo, entonces él te toma de la cintura y comienza a estrellarte una y otra vez disfrutando que tus gritos al unísono de sus fluidos hacen eco en toda la llanura desértica.

Esperaron tantos años que pareciera un sueño hecho realidad, de manera rabiosa y mugrienta seguís gimiendo vocablos vacíos de culpa y repletos de lujuria, como nunca antes. Y él comienza a acompañarte para estallar en ti con suprema potencia, dejando un blanco en tus ojos. Junta tus pupilas y las suyas.

"Sobreviví tanto tiempo a esta necesidad de ti que no hay desierto que me mate"

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