#Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i-smoke-chapstick · 6 months ago

Note

saw that you're in your got era so perhaps jealousy headcanons for the got or hotd characters? 👀 literally anyone from these characters - robb, jaime, margaery, oberyn, theon, cersei or ramsay, I'd love to see your interpretation on any of them ! ( or aemond, alicent, aegon, gwayne, OTTO !!, larys, daemon or mysaria for hotd, again whichever era you feel like it !!) and just for future reference, do you write for asoiaf characters or mainly the shows?

'LOVE CAN KILL, [jealousy! hcs]

-GOT / HOTD CHARACTERS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Robb, Jaime, Margaery, Oberyn, Cersei, Joffrey, Ramsay, Tyrion, The Hound, Aemond, Aegon, Alicent, Gwayne, Daemon

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; jealousy, and how some characters deal with it ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOT and HOTD!characters x female reader. SFW! But naturally, some of these characters get a bit suggestive! Possessive behavior, canon typical violence, etc. Please send in more GOT/HOTD requests! Apologies this took so long, this is more characters in a post than I've ever done lol. Unfortunately I'm not super familiar with Otto, Larys, Theon, or Mysaria, so I decided to pick some characters I'm more familiar with! (Joffrey is my #1 favorite of all time, my sincerest apologies.) Whew, 14 characters ! For right now I'm only writing for the TV shows! (i've only read book 1, lol)

𝑅𝛰𝐵𝐵 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐾

♫ “I wasn't thinking when I told you to stay.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

With Robb, it's all about the body language. And boy, he's horrible at hiding it.

He can have a hard time placing the feeling as jealousy. He was raised to be honorable. But feelings of...neglect run deep with him. Oldest child syndrome, if you will.

Which is why his jealousy most likely manifests in subdued, quiet behavior. Part of him will recognize he's being ridiculous, while another part of him is silently fuming. Fists clenched, he'll send you an intense stare as he watches you converse with another lord.

His emotions leak through his expressions. When he catches you staring back, his gaze will flit down, and he'll wait patiently for you're time. Or...in most cases...he'll march right up, placing himself between you and the man. Maybe a small, "I'll take it from here." If the lord is offering to help you with something.

A subtle touch on the small of your back. It's a small claim, a subtle "back-off."

A lot of his jealousy also transforms into protectiveness more than anything. He'll offer to accompany reader to places he wouldn't normally be concerned about. He's close by, and he's reminding her wordlessly, he's watching over her and any threat.

Finally, when you two are alone, will he drop down that guard of his. Covering up that burning pit inside him with casual humor, you can sense the underlaying seriousness of his voice in his light teases.

"You’re quite popular these days. Should I be worried that I’m not your only admirer?"

He certainly beds you, having something to prove. And only afterwards when you are in his arms, sweaty and warm from the candlelight, wrapped in furs...will he calm down.

"It’s not that I don’t trust you… It’s them I don’t trust. Some men don’t know how to keep their place." He'll whisper, holding onto you firmly.

𝐽𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “You don't know that you're in over your head.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Jaime's jealousy is burning. It's simply the way he was raised. And gods, you are his.

Numerous sarcastic remarks flow between the two of you and the man who he believes has essentially stolen your affections. His taunts are offhand, dry remarks, often directed towards his "opponent" or even you, if he's feeling bitter enough.

"I didn’t realize he was such a comedian. Maybe I should ask him for pointers." He'll say, with that sarcastic drawl. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to make me jealous. Not that it would work, of course." He chuckles, but his gaze is sharp.

Depending on the offense, Jaime's reactions differ. If you simply have an admirer, a few...well chosen words are directed towards them. His confidence allows him to not be too bothered. Maybe standing closer, clearly showing off to whatever poor soul thought they had a shot with you.

It's a different story if you are friends with the person involved, or entertain their advances even mildly or jokingly.

That's when the uncharacteristic tension comes out, full of small twitches in his jaw and curt, smug responses. His visible annoyance is uncontrolled.

We saw how he was with Loras when it came to Cersei. If he feels truly threatened, whether it's by another pretty boy, or just someone he feels could...hypothetically...have the upper hand...He'll corner them when you're off somewhere else. And give a small warning, from the Kingslayer himself.

"You seem to have forgotten who you're dealing with, so let me remind you." He leans in just close enough for his words to sink in. "Whatever you think you might be to her… you’re not. Let’s keep it that way, hm? I'd hate to see you make any...lasting mistakes."

𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝐸𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “It was just too hard to push you away.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Margaery is smart with her feelings. She knows how to play the game, and play it well. Instead of showing her jealousy openly, she's a touch more composed than most characters on this list.

She recognizes just how precious you are, and admires that. She doesn't necessarily blame others when they become...attached to you.

When jealousy arises, she views it more as a small problem in need of being handled. And she knows how to handle things.

She embraces the graceful competition, subtly outshining anyone who seems to get in the way of her goals. Her goal being you're affection, of course. You're already hers, and she sees no problem in working to keep it that way.

This appears in gestures of strategic sweetness to keep you close, perhaps wearing your favorite gowns on her, and offering that charming smirk. She doesn't shy away from manipulating you, just a teeny bit.

"They’re certainly captivated by you. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to keep your attention." She teases, "Besides, who could ever compare to us?"

Her words carry a playful undertone, but she makes her point clear. Laughing charmingly, threading her arm through yours.

Very rarely does she think she's in any serious danger. She prides herself on being yours and knowing how to keep you on a tight leash. Though...if she feels genuinely worried, she expresses her feelings quite clearly but still gently. She reminds her lover of their shared goals, and all that they've built together.

"My, you do attract admirers easily, don’t you? I’ll have to start guarding you more closely." She gives you a playful look, though her touch on your arm will linger just a bit longer than usual.

𝛰𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑌𝑁 𝑀𝐴𝑅𝑇𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “Let me go, but you won't let me go.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oberyn doesn't feel insecure. How could he? He knows, deep down, that you're his. Jealousy isn't something he confines himself too, he views it as an ugly emotion, capable of getting rid of the true wonders love has to offer.

That being said...he is only a man. And he is fiercely protective. If anyone were to flirt with you and you were clearly uninterested, it would be a swift death, or at the very least, he'd make his point clear with a blow or two and a cutting edge remark. Especially if they are a Lannister. He enjoys you being admired, but only to a certain extent.

"Your efforts are wasted, they’re far too captivating for someone like you. I’d suggest you find someone more... suited to your charms." He begins, hand itching for his spear, "Consider this your first and last warning."

Yeah, he means business.

Most of the time, he spins the situation to show-off. Showcase his own passion and devotion to you. If it's simply a friend of yours, he may even offer them to join in. If not, he'll spend the entire night practically worshipping you, promising that he's the only one who could ever make you feel like this.

Similarly to Margaery, he teases you lightly.

"You have a lovely laugh. But I must admit, it’s much better when it’s for me alone."

Oberyn doesn't shy away from PDA either. It's that assertive reclaiming he seems to favor, pulling you close, whispering something that affirms your affections for each other. He'll revel when he watches the other mans face fall in dismay.

He might get cocky, and push it a bit far. By the time he's done, the 'competition' will be utterly humiliated and embarrassed. He'll be smirking at his own quips.

"I assure you, my friend, my lover favors...more substantial things." He motions to the poor mans crotch.

You're gonna have to give him a slap on the arm.

𝐶𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸𝐼 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “Consequence of loving me can be cruel.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Cersei's jealousy is intense and multifaceted, to say the least. It manifests in a mix of cold fury and harsh threats, channeling that anger into much more controlling behavior.

Deep down, she is terribly insecure. Once another man or woman as your attention, and she catches on, she's coolly lashing out. And she catches on quickly.

At first she may appear indifferent, but if you look close enough, you can see the subtly giveaways. The way her lip curls, her nostrils flare, and her knuckles go white gripping her wine chalice.

If you're the first one to confront her, and attempt to reassure her, you'll save yourself some trouble down the line. Guaranteed, she'll deny it, but still make a passive-aggressive remark here and there. But eventually she'll calm down, edges softening.

That rare moment of vulnerability that you're not sure is manipulation or not. She'll look towards the ground, running her thumb over you're hand on her cheek. She'll sit on the edge of her bed, jaw clenched.

Now, it's a whole different story if you don't catch on to the early signs. If you don't manage to reassure or call her out in time, that jealousy implodes.

She may confront you first, anger bleeding through her. She runs on it. She may even threaten you, oblivious to the potential consequences her words might have.

“You think you can charm your way into my affections by paying attention to that little fool?" She's standing up, loathing distorting her features. Her voice raises. "Perhaps I should throw a feast in her honor. Let’s see how charming she is when surrounded by my people."

It's threats and threats and more and more threats...which can be especially worrying if the person she's jealous of is a friend of yours.

Almost every scenario ends with you having to comfort her, treading carefully with the words you say.

Now, when it comes to confronting the competition, she makes it very clear. Though, these threats are often much more impulsive. A swig of wine, and she gracefully moves towards them when you're out of sight.

A faux compliment or two, before she whispers, close.

“You’ll find that my guards are quite loyal to me. A simple command, and they’ll ensure you never breathe the same air as her again.”

It only makes her feel a bit better. But, regardless, she's smiling smugly, feeling proud of herself when the offenders face turns white.

𝐽𝛰𝐹𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑌 𝐵𝐴𝑅𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸𝛰𝑁

♫ “Too much love can kill.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh, Joffrey. I'm obsessed with him.

Yeah. He has the worst jealousy issues out of everyone on this list. It's baaaaad. It's a cocktail of insecurity, possessiveness, and entitlement. As someone who has been raised to believe he is above others, and has been coddled his entire life...it infuriates him.

It's the same feeling you get as a child, when someone steals one of your toys. You belong to him. He never grew out of that mentality, or that feeling.

Be prepared for plentiful outbursts of anger. He's a tantrum personified, especially if he feels disrespected. Insecurity grips him tight and refuses to let up until he's either been heavily reassured...or the other person is... taken care of.

And even then, after reassuring him for hours, it may not be enough. You know how he hired a knight to take out Tyrion in the Battle of Blackwater? Yeah. That person will be paid a little 'visit.'

When reassuring him, similar to Cersei, you really have to be careful what you say, or it might make the situation even worse. At that point, he's seeing red.

"I’m the king! You should be grateful for my attention, not chasing after scraps!" He's huffing, pointing to himself as his breathing increases. He'll look at you with an ice cold glare, nose wrinkled in distaste.

He might even force his hand around your face, harshly grabbing you. He looks dead into your eyes, voice clear and low. "You're mine. You belong to me." He's seething.

If he notices you simply looking at anyone else too long, he'll feel beyond threatened in both his masculinity and position as king. Especially if you laugh at another mans jokes, or simply attempt to be friendly with a commoner or lord.

"What’s so amusing? You’d think you’d find better entertainment than that fool." He mutters under his breath harshly, bad habit of picking at his fingers. He'll shuffle uncomfortably. He'll look to you expecting agreeance. It's 100% that mentality of 'Friends? You don't need friends. You have me.'

Yeah, he keeps the very blunt insults coming. Petulant name calling is not above him. Includes, but is not limited too, "Degenerates, Idiots, Commoners, Peasants, or Cretins" which he may describe as being "Stupid, Disgusting, Repellent, Sickening, or Revolting." He's got a LOT of those angry remarks in the bank.

While he may not directly confront the offender, (he doesn't have time for idle threats.) He has his own ways of dealing with them. And that is a public humiliation ritual, making a mockery of any rival. And if they disobey ANY whim of his, they're gone. That one scene with Tyrion at his wedding? That "Kneel!"? He's commanding the same of any man unlucky enough to have threatened his claim on you. Oh, and they're going to be his cupbearer.

Even if they do as he asks, by now his anger will have transformed into that renewed sense of cruelty. "You're fingers or your tongue?...Or I could just cut your throat."

𝑅𝐴𝑀𝑆𝐴𝑌 𝐵𝛰𝐿𝑇𝛰𝑁

♫ “You're gonna suffer now, whatever you do.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

His jealousy may not be as overtly intense as Joffrey's, but it certainly is the scariest.

In his own words, he prefers being an only child. That same kind of mentality certainly carries over to his relationship with you. He prefers to be the only one you see that way.

He loves a good game, and that's what this is. If anything, it's quite exhilarating for him. Though, he is a huge hypocrite. For a man who thinks jealousy is boring coming from you, he feels it quite freely.

Sees it as a means of asserting dominance, whether that be through intimidation or overt manipulation. He doesn't deny it like most characters on this list. When he's feeling jealous, he says it. It's a small warning for you not to go any farther, lest worse things occur for you or the perceived threat.

He'll go up to whoever you are talking too, saccharine and honorable smile on his face. He'll casually interrupt, introducing himself as Lord Bolton's successor. Despite his calm demeanor, there is a tightness in his face, and a wicked look in his eyes, that only you can recognize. It will make you shiver.

If the rival persists, he'll find it all too amusing.

"You're bold, I'll give you that." He says with a boisterous laugh, and you already know the mans fate is sealed.

Looks like his hounds will be having another meal tonight. He'll have his men go out looking for the man, and he'll question him more...privately, when you aren't there to witness his tortuous taunts.

But for now, his focus is on you, and your loyalty to him. When he excuses the both of you, his hand is gripping yours painfully tight.

By the time you're in his chamber, he's on you, ripping your clothes off with a harsh intensity and pushing you to the wall. His nose is twitching in barely kept anger, forcing you to look at him.

We all saw that scene between him and Myranda when she threatens to marry someone else, and it was not pretty. His eyes are borderline bloodshot, and he can't keep his hands off you or your throat.

"You're mine." He leans forward, through gritted teeth. It's better you don't put up a fight, because he'll be having you and your attention one way or another.

Que the numerous kisses and bite marks soon to follow. And he is not gentle when he's inside you.

You'll never hear from the flirtatious lord again...and if you do, it's only in the prayers of his grieving family.

𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐼𝛰𝑁 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “My love, you are not safe with me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Now, Tyrion's jealousy is more subdued and introspective versus some characters on this list. He has a good sense of self-awareness, and he's intelligent to figure out what he's feeling quite quickly.

At first he'll dismiss it as nothing more than an annoying feeling of insecurity he attempts to cover up. But...it doesn't last long. Especially when someone else makes you laugh. Or when Bronn makes a taunt with a half smirk, that some other fancy lord has taken a keen interest in his lady. (Bronn, you instigator!)

As such, Tyrion resorts to his usual humor to deflect any unpleasant feelings he may have when he's jealous. Similar to his brother, these witty remarks are are subtle intimidation technique, meant to dryly convey his displeasure.

"Ah, the sound of laughter. How quaint. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to earn your amusement." He forces a smile, masking his discomfort. "I didn’t realize I was competing for the title of Court Jester."

These feelings of inadequacy manifest in more self-deprecating ways for Tyrion, given his anger is more controlled. He might opt to drown his sorrows, so don't be surprised if you catch him drunkenly waving his chalice around, doing poor impressions of the so-called-lord that had your attention.

This doesn't mean he won't confront the rival, though. Quite the opposite. While he won't seek the man out, (For his sake, he isn't privy to seeing the tall handsome lord in person. He's not a masochist.) If he happens to come across him flirting with you first hand, or sees him during a feast, he'll make sure to throw one or two gibes out there.

"Desperation looks unflattering on you, my friend. Perhaps you should tone it down a notch." He speaks carefully, nodding to Bronn as a subtle warning. "Or at least the best you can manage..?"

If the rival flirts with you blatantly and in front of him, I can 100% imagine him putting them down. After a flirtatious remark directed towards you, he'll make a dry comment, "Flattery is wasted on me, but do go on; I’m always entertained by those who think they can win my affection." As if it was directed towards him. Probably shuts the man up for a moment.

When the two of you are alone, he'd be very grateful if you could just hold him. Give him that reassurance he craves when his carefree facade breaks. That moment of vulnerability means the world to him.

𝑆𝐴𝑁𝐷𝛰𝑅 "𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝛰𝑈𝑁𝐷" 𝐶𝐿𝐸𝐺𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “I need you to go, don't fight me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Listen up, Sandor doesn't take shit.

Jealousy isn't an emotion Sandor is particularly used too. In fact, he didn't think he'd find anyone to love in his lifetime, so the feeling is foreign and unpleasant. And, like a mean dog, Sandor's first reaction is to growl.

He doesn't like it. Says it's constricting, and it pisses him off. Not just the pretty boy lord flirting with you, but the whole situation in general. Makes him feel vulnerable, and weak.

Naturally, his first reaction is to distance himself. He may avoid you, grumbling, spitting out vile and vulgar comments to get you to run with your tail between your legs. It's better for the both of you that way.

"You think they’re worth your time? Just a pretty smile to distract you?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "You could do better. But then again, you always choose to suffer." He motions at himself, and it's a glimpse of that self-depreciation he buries.

But you love him for a reason, and you know that won't end well. Best way to handle him when he's jealous is to be gentle, and to listen.

He doesn't want empty reassurances. He's complicated that way, even if they are genuine. He isn't one for flowery words or overt displays of emotion, so the best way to comfort him would be to give him some space, but continue to take care of him.

It will still frustrate him, but eventually he'll cave. He'll rejoin you, silently, eventually. Won't offer any apologies, but maybe a gruff nod, and you two will commence whatever it is you two have.

In future instances, he becomes much more brutally honest with how he feels. Doesn't sugarcoat it. If he doesn't like someone, even if they are a friend, he expects them gone- or he'll take care of them regardless. That kind of possessive behavior is just something you'll have to work through.

I can imagine him silently brooding if he witnesses someone flirting with you first hand. Typically his size and reputation is enough to scare whoever away. He's looming over them, eyes dark, and ready to defend what's his.

When you take your leave, he'll confront the person with a very explicit threat or two.

"If you don’t back off, I’ll find a nice dark corner to stuff you in- preferably with a pile of shit." Or, "Get any closer, and I’ll rip your tongue out and shove it down your throat."

𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “Get swallowed by the weight.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aemond has the most...complex jealousy out of everyone on this list. It's layered, and the outcome may be unpredictable. It's an emotional and volatile nature that's been building up for years since he was a child.

He often had feelings of jealousy for his brother, his nephews, etc. That trauma is deeply rooted in him, and it's hard to let go of old habits, given it's been present all his life.

You'll watch his head bow in distaste when you make small conversation with other lords. How his eye will gaze at you, almost warningly. His jaw will be clenched tight, and he'll avoid eye contact, looking off to the side in anger. He doesn't want to watch.

If it's a friend of yours, he can be a bit mean, questioning your loyalty a bit harshly.

"Friendship? Is that what you call it?" He speaks, angrily. A thinly veiled threat is directed to you, "It seems more like a prelude to betrayal."

He'll brood in the corner, silently waiting. That is, unless, he deems the man goes too far.

In the scene where he gets his eye put out by Lucerys, the conversation that starts before it happens pretty much sums his jealousy up. He's firm with his claim to Vaghar, and the same goes for you.

When Rhaena states that Vaghar was hers to claim, Aemond responds in kind, "Then you should've claimed her." And puts up a hell of a fight to prove his point. That same possessiveness carries over to his relationship with you. He doesn't back down. You're his.

He has no problems getting in between you and the man he feels threatened of. He offers a blunt threat.

"I could have you torn apart, limb by limb, and I’d sleep soundly at night. Be certain of that."

Guaranteed, mixed feelings of insecurity will rise to the surface. When you two are alone, he'll continue to brood silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and body language tight.

Please do reassure him. He needs it. His eye will soften, and he'll place his hand over yours, leaning into your touch. With a soft huff of an air, a final warning slips past his lips.

"Don’t make me remind you why I’m the only one worthy of you."

𝐴𝐸𝐺𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “I wanna hold on tightly.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aegon handles jealousy poorly, much like he seems to handle everything else.

It's like throwing gasoline on a fire. Once that feeling in his chest flares up, it's shown through erratic behavior, sarcasm, and attempts to assert his claim in juvenile, insecure ways. Unlike his brother, he lacks the restraint to simply brood.

No, be prepared for plenty of mocking comments directed towards the man he's threatened of, and showy displays to prove he's the better choice.

Everyone knows he is unpredictable and reckless, and possessiveness drives him to act out. He certainly overindulges to cope with his insecurity, (getting shitfaced) and will gladly push your boundaries to get your attention back on him.

Not to mention the belittling comments he'll make.

"Oh, is that who you’ve chosen to entertain now? I didn’t realize your taste had grown so dull."

Prone to acting overtly clingy, almost like a restless cat. He will attempt to slide over into the conversation, resting an arm around you, or even pulling you away. He doesn't care if it's 'improper.' He probably brings up his status, his bloodline, acting over-the-top.

He's also no stranger to outbursts. His temper may make him lash out impulsively, whether that be towards you or the man whose got your attention. If he's in a particular mood, be ready to deal with a screaming Aegon, threatening to slaughter and burn said rival. His fist will come down hard on the council table.

He also doesn't care if he's making a show of it in front of the council members. Que Alicent or Otto attempting to placate him. He needs to have a cooler head if he's going to be ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and this type of behavior isn't very becoming.

He definitely thinks he's owed some make-up sex, if only to quell the insecure storm raging inside him.

"You think they could satisfy you? Truly?" He says, firmly, as he steps closer. Anger is burning in his words, volume raising. "They wouldn’t even know where to begin."

And he plans to show you that he's right.

𝐴𝐿𝐼𝐶𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “I'm afraid I'll pull you over the edge.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Alicent experiences jealousy complexly, just like Aemond. It gnaws on her until she's at her breaking point. Rather than overt displays or confrontations, she attempts to employ more strategic distance...but it always ends up resorting in icy politeness.

She's making her displeasure known through restrained, pointed remarks. Out of duty and pride, she'll attempt to avoid direct confrontation, but she wears her jealousy on her sleeve.

I imagine her withdrawing from the situation at first, if not for anything but her own sake. Her gut reaction, out of insecurity, is to escape the situation. It honestly makes her feel sick.

Unless she's forced to stay...then she'll begrudgingly offer a tight smile. Her responses are carefully measured, and she slips into that role of "queen" rather than a lover.

A part of it stems from passive aggressiveness, and another part of it is purely subconscious.

Speaking of passive aggressiveness, she'll make some pretty cutting remarks, either questioning your loyalty or purposely feigning ignorance to the situation.

"Perhaps I’m mistaken. But I know loyalty when I see it. Or when I don’t."

It's an all bark, no bite threat towards you. But it serves as an aggressive reminder of your connection with her, and that you are now apart of her duties.

If she does interfere beforehand, she'll make indirect remarks about the person causing her jealousy, but will most likely frame it as merely her own curiosity.

Maybe just a touch of self-depreciation, unintentional manipulation. Years of Otto's techniques have rubbed off on her.

"It’s of little consequence, truly. I simply thought I was the one you preferred to spend your time with. I may have misjudged."

𝐺𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑁𝐸 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “Hurts to say it over, over again.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

In contrast to Alicent, Gwayne has no problem when he feels threatened to step in. He's a member of a powerful house, and a knight no less. Those two things have taught him to be prideful and honorable.

He will defend your honor whenever he deems in necessary, and there are no exceptions. He certainly has a flash of a temper, but he believes he's much more restrained than others, given his training.

If he thinks someone is crossing a line, he'll interfere. He'll position himself quite closely to you, making his presence known.

He offers the man a silent warning, offering a cool, assessing look. It would be enough to communicate his disapproval.

And if the man persists...well...they'll end up with the end of a sword pointed at them.

Similar to Robb, Gwayne's jealousy appears more in his heightened protectiveness. He insists on staying close for your safety.

"Do they need to be reminded that you’re already spoken for?"

Obviously, his noble pride carries on. If he gets pushed, his jealousy will show more openly, taking the man aside, and telling them that he is more worthy of her time and attention. Might throw in a comment about his noble standing.

He'll take you aside when everything is said and done, reminding her his intentions are honorable. Everyone else is just...unworthy.

"You may not see it, but I know men like him. If he truly respected you, he wouldn’t need to linger around someone else’s beloved."

𝐷𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ "No matter how you feel." Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh boy, you'll have to keep this man on a tight leash when his jealousy flares up. It's as intense as he is, and he shows it openly.

He'll deny it, or embrace it, depending on the severity of the perceived offense. It's closely tied to that desire for power within him he can't seem to shake. Any affront to your loyalty is an affront to his own standing.

He switches from possessive protectiveness to outright hostility. There's really no in between. It's a raw and unfiltered fury that makes his hand shake and his eye twitch.

He doesn't tolerate rivals, and he's very upfront that he's the only one fit to be by your side. This comes through when he has you all to himself on his bed...

He'll confront the person whether you want him to or not.

"If they value their limbs, they’d remember you’re mine." He mutters casually, pacing around the room.

He carries that hard glint in his eyes. He may even mildly appreciate the sheer balls of the man stupid enough to attempt to flirt with you, but he'll shut it down quicker than anyone on this list.

"You’ve got a bold tongue. I wonder if I should cut it out..?" He'll look to you for permission. It's up to you if you wanna let the dragon loose!

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eraenaa · 9 months ago

Text

Worth the Price

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader

Synopsis: Aemond does everything to prove that he is worthy of you— even if it means that he would be a kinslayer twice.

Warnings: Aemond Plots Against Aegon, Oral Sex (f & m receiving), Mature, 18+, Semi-Public Relations, Choking, Edging, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 5,585

A/N: Reposting bc I was uncertain about this dynamic, but fuck it, I have a soft spot for a Lannister reader and cannot let it rest in my drafts.

Aemond had wanted you since he was young, but as a second son, he would always come second best to his brother. You were a daughter of house Lannister, betrothed to Aegon the moment you were born, an alliance not to keep their Valyrain blood pure but rather to be mixed with gold. You had grown in the walls of the keep, taken from your mother’s arms a few moons after your birth, and grew up under the supervision of your uncle, Tyland Lannister, as a measure to keep you acquainted with your betrothed, Aegon.

However, such arrangements instilled since your infancy were changed when Queen Alicent was offered a bastard for her only daughter. The queen was quick to cut the engagement made in your infancy and instead betrothed her firstborn son to her firstborn daughter, offering Aemond as your consolation prize. Aemond, who was ten at the time, was thrilled to hear of such arrangements, finally gaining one of the things his heart yearned for the most: you. However, he could see the quiet and greatly covered disappointment not only in your house but in you as well— you were set to be queen, now you were now only to be the lady-wife of a mere second-born son.

Aemond never truly heard such qualms leave your lips. He was fortunate enough that you had always been keen and kind to him in childhood, and your affection for him only grew in time. But he could not help but be affected by your quiet and greatly oppressed disappointment. For the first ten years of your life, you were prepared and molded to be a queen, hours of unending lessons on how to play the part wasted as you were to be bound to a mere second son. Aemond could not stand for it. He ambitioned to be so much more. He could not stand to be just the second. Second son, second in line, second in your heart.

“My love, are you listening?” You asked as your husband’s gaze was afar, and you had noticed his attention was not on you. You furrowed your brows as he made no reply, tugging at his arm to bring him out of his trance. “I— I apologize, my heart, I was thinking of another matter,” You pursed your lips and hummed, “And praytell, what matter may that be? Certainly, it is of much importance that you have started ignoring me,” Aemond bit his lip to hinder his amused smirk; he just absolutely adored how you were never afraid to voice out and demand his undivided attention— in others, he would find that absolutely insufferable, but of course, that sentiment was not the same for his dear lady-wife.

Aemond sighed and could not help but kiss you, unbothered that you two were in the halls and anyone could walk in and see such passion exuding from his usually stoic and rigged demeanor. As your lips parted and Aemond’s body was alight by the feel of your lips and the taste of you, you simply raised your brow, silently urging him to tell the matters that plagued his mind. Aemond tucked a strand of your golden hair and sighed once more, “Nothing— just mere matters of the realm that the king is too incompetent to comprehend and tend to,” You nodded, “Then he is lucky to have you— his brother forever capable and loyal to him and the kingdom,” Aemond bit his tongue. “You must steer him in the right direction, my love. We are already at war; we cannot have the kingdom in shambles because of Aegon’s squandering self. You have always been the diligent one, unending hours poured into learning the histories of your house and training with your sword… your great knowledge must be exercised greatly in this hour of war.” Aemond could only nod his agreement. You smiled and cupped his cheek, tracing his scar, and you hummed as Aemond pressed his cheek further into your soft palm.

“Now go; I believe that it is the hour of the small council. Best be there and see to it that your brother does not humiliate your family’s claim to the throne further,” You say, reluctantly urging him to let go of his hold on you, even though you were always quick to miss his touch. Aemond shook his head, “Do not be so stubborn,” you said, and you smiled further when Aemond wrapped both of his arms around your waist. You rose to the tip of your toes and pecked your husband’s lips as encouragement. Even though you had shared his kisses countless of times, you still felt the quiet tingle on your plush lips as you two did such actions. “Very well then, I shall do whatever my lady-wife should ask of me,” He said against your lips, making your smile widen. You parted and tried to walk off, but Aemond took hold of your wrist and pulled you back to him, a laugh escaping from your lips, and you rested your hands atop his chest. “And where are you off to?”

You smirked, “To some engagements for the court that I offered Helaena reprieve from. And after, you shall find me in our chambers… warming our bed… waiting impatiently for you.” You whispered the final part, watching as Aemond’s lilac eye darkened with want, pupils dilated that it made your core turn— finding it utterly flattering how quickly your husband will always grow in want of you. “Now go; the quicker you are to attend the meeting, the quicker they are to end, and you can be my arms.” You said and gave a final kiss on your husband’s cheek before hastily walking off, afraid that Aemond’s wants would get the better of him and take you against the alcove in the hall; it had occurred once or twice before.

Aemond stomped off the room of the small council after a rather aggravating session with his brother. Seeing Aegon be so clueless with the matters of the realm and the war was pathetic. And in a way, Aemond found great satisfaction in that— seeing Aegon struggle to comprehend his words as he spoke in the ancient tongue, his brother unable to articulate even just one sentence without stammering like a simpleton was quite amusing but overly embarrassing. As the meeting ended, Aemond was quick to rise to his feet and leave, overly impatient to be with you— savoring every second in your arms before he had to leave quietly in the night to make good of his secret plottings with Ser Criston.

Aemond walked the halls that led to his chambers, each step fervent and quick. The fading sun illuminated his chambers when he entered, setting it aglow in an amber hue. “I’ve been waiting,” Aemond heard you breathlessly call, his head quickly turning to your bed; he squinted his eye as he could not see you through the canopy covers. Aemond wasted no time to march in your direction; his breath caught in his throat as he saw your figure covered by nothing but a thin sheet that was comparable to what the whores in the street of silk wore. You lounged laxly in the middle of the bed, your body in full display for your husband, who stared at you dumbfounded and filled with desire.

“Seven hells,” Aemond could not help but mutter in pure amazement. His knees felt weak, and his stomach coiled painfully in burning want of you. “Do you not like it?” You frowned as he only stood there, you feigned innocence— of course, you knew he would like it. You knew your husband better than he knew himself. Having grown up with him, you knew every possible thing there is to know about Aemond. Aegon may have been your betrothed at the start, but you were not at all keen to know him to such a deeper level than you had his brother.

You went to the edge of the bed to meet your husband, who stood by the foot of it, kneeling before him as he hungrily raked his gaze through your body, yet he still did not dare to move. “Has my display rendered you simple, my prince?” You asked lowly, peeking up at him through your lashes and watching as the ball on his throat bobbed and hearing how his breathing turned ragged. You hummed and raised your hand to caress his cheek, rising higher to be met with his face, slyly pushing your breast against his clothed chest. Aemond groaned at just the simple feeling of that. You ghosted your lips against his jaw and neck, your fingers effortlessly undoing the buckles of his leather doublet.

Your hand slowly trailed south after you had successfully removed his upper clothing; you heard the catch in Aemond’s breath as your fingers trailed his toned chest and torso. Every single inch of him was carved by the gods and embodied a warrior. Aemond hissed as he felt you cup his needing length through his trousers, watching as a sly smirk rose to your lips. “I see that you are quite… tense, my love,” You whispered against his lips, catching as his eye fluttered to a close as you added pressure into his length. “I am.” He gritted, and your smirk widened. “Hm… tell me then what do you need— what do you want, my prince?” You taunted and felt him shudder as you slipped your hand into his trousers, finally letting him feel skin against skin.

“I want… I need you, little wife. I desperately need you,” He muttered as his eye opened. Aemond moved to kiss your lips, but you instead lowered yourself to be met with his length, yanking down his trousers and letting your lips wrap around the tip of his needing and weeping cock. Aemond’s hands lost themselves in your hair, fisting the gold strands in utter pleasure, hissing as you sucked his length, urging yourself to take his cock deeper into your throat. Lewd sounds of your and Aemond’s heavy breathing, along with you gagging on his cock echoed through the chambers. Quiet praises leave your husband’s lips as you pleasure him with your mouth. You reached out to fondle his stones, earning a loud groan from him, and his head tilted to the heavens. Aemond could only stand there and marvel at you, his eye torn as to what to stare upon, your pretty face or your ample behind that hung in the air and squirmed with each of your pleasurable movements. He began to wonder what he had done to have you as his lady wife and pondered the ways he could prove himself worthy of you.

Aemond felt himself ready to come undone, and he forcefully slipped out his cock from your lips, earning a whine from you. “Had I done something wrong?” You panted as you wiped away the traces of drool on your chin, looking up at Aemond with slight hurt in your eyes. Your husband was quick to shake his head and cup your cheeks, “No— you could never do me wrong, my heart,” He reassured, but you felt yourself pout and wonder as to why he had ceased your actions, if you were being honest, you quite enjoyed sucking his cock.

“Then wh—“ Your words were left unfinished as you felt Aemond cup your dripping heat. Your eyes widened, and the earlier smirk on your lips had now flown to your husband’s. “Already so wet for me… you are a saint, my heart. Tending to my needs first even though you yourself are in desperate want of release.” Aemond hummed as your eyes rolled back; he effortlessly slipped two digits into your dripping core. You mewled out his name, squealing as he curled the digits and as his thumb fervently rubbed your sensitive pearl. “I want your cock,” You said distractedly, any form of decorum or chasteness gone as your want for Aemond had made you utterly desperate.

Aemond let out an amused breath, “Of course you do,” He taunted and smashed his lips unto yours. You clawed at his toned arm as you felt your release bubbling, but before you could finally feel the climax you sought, Aemond parted your lips and ceased the pleasure of his fingers. You whined, glaring at your husband, who only stared down at you in amusement as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked off your essence. “Patience, my heart. All that you want shall come in due time,” He whispered his oath, and you huffed as he walked away, leaving you to wonder what had gotten into his mind.

You lay on the bed as your husband went to one corner of your chambers. Your legs were spread, and your cunt was pulsating in need. You could not help yourself as your fingers slipped along the wet folds, holding back your moans as you touched yourself because you could not wait for your husband to give you your release. Aemond stilled as he heard your once still breathing hitch and the distant and quiet sound of your wetness. He turned to the bed and saw as your back was arched, and your fingers disappeared to pleasure your cunt.

He took large strides only to witness you on the verge of an orgasm that he had denied you of. You groaned as Aemond took hold of your wrist, your second time being denied your release. “You’re being cruel, husband,” You whined as you stared up at your husband, a wicked glint in his eye. “Please, Aemond… I need you,” You breathed out, and all he did was hum. That was then you realized he held something in his other hand. You sat up, skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Aemond moved his lips to pepper kisses on the side of your neck, bitting to leave his mark as a reminder as to who you belonged to.

“Open it,” Aemond murmured against your skin as he placed a velvet box into your hands. You frowned as he continued on to pepper kisses on your neck and down the swell of your breasts, ripping off the thin sheet you had worn. You did as he told and felt a gasp escape your lips as you saw what was inside and as his fingers pinched the bud of your tit. “W—What is this for?” You said mind befuddled as you did not know where to focus, your husband’s gift or his pleasure. “It is for you, of course.” He said plainly, took the ruby tiara into his hands, and moved to place it atop your head. Aemond grew further with need at the sight of you flushed and naked; the only thing you had on was the tiara he had commissioned for you.

You stared up at your husband in wonder, “I— It’s lovely… thank you, but my love, I am in no position to warrant a tiara— it is rather inappropriate, do you not think?” You asked and tried your best to focus as Aemond fondled your breasts. Aemond placed open kisses onto the side of your breasts, trying to form his words. “Aemond,” You called and Feld his face to look you in the eye. You delicately took off his eye patch as his lips pursed. “What is this for?” You asked once again.

“Do you wish to be queen?” He instead asked you, and you were rendered speechless. “Do not deny it, my heart… You were born and bred with the purpose of being queen of the seven kingdoms.” He sighed, and you tried to find your words. “Even now, you bear the duties of a Queen that Helaena cannot tend to,” He added, as you were always by his sister’s side, aiding her with her duties until she all together left the role up to you. You let out a heavy breath. “I… Sometimes I do— seeing that was my whole purpose, why I was taken out of my parents’ care and instead raised here to do what was expected of me.” You admitted and felt your heart pit as Aemond avoided your gaze. “But I’d rather have married you than be queen.” You quickly added.

“I may have wanted the title, Aemond… but I want you more. I am perfectly content with just being your wife,” You reassured, but something in Aemond burned in anger. Anger at the gods as to why he was born the second son— anger at himself as to why he had to seek out Aegon instead of just letting him escape. You sighed as you rested your forehead against Aemond’s, “Do you believe me?” You questioned and waited for his reply. Aemond bit his tongue not completely believing that you were perfectly content with your station because even he was not contented. He knew envy was a lesser emotion that he must not succumb to, but it was inevitable, especially as he bore witness to how his brother squandered off the most coveted station in the kingdom. He gave a nod and connected your lips, deciding to lay the matter to rest for the moment.

You sighed and steadied yourself as he hoisted you on his lap, moans leaving your lips as you sank down on his cock. Aemond’s breathing labored as he felt your tight cunt around his length and as your nails left traces along his back. “Oh… gods, Aemond—“ You cried as you rocked your hips, the tip of his cock hitting the perfect spot that made your back arch and your eyes rolled back in utter pleasure. Your moans filled his ears, and Aemond could only hum with satisfaction. “You sound like such a whore, little wife,” he muttered as he reached downwards to trace circles on your nubbin. You could only whine louder, too focused as you bounced on his cock and sought out your high. “Such a vision you are… bouncing on my cock and moaning out my name with a tiara on your pretty head.”

Aemond’s other hand harshly gripped your tit as he was overwhelmed by the feel of you. “So perfect you are,” He praised, and you smirked at him through the haze of pleasure, your cunt clenching further as you had always loved when he would compliment you. “Such a perfect wife— you would have been wasted on my squandering brother.” He gritted and groaned as you clenched around him tightly and as you nodded your head in agreement. “I was meant to be yours, Aemond,” You breathed as you felt your skin alight with your nearing climax. “You’re mine… all mine.” He groaned as you came undone, your loud moans spurring his own release. “All yours,” You swore and watched as his face contorted in pleasure.

You sighed in contentment as you lay on Aemond’s chest and as he ran his hands through your hair. “I must leave,” He suddenly cut the silence. “I must meet with Cole,” You pursed your lips. “I know.” You said, trying not to let the tone of bitterness and concern be heard. Aemond furrowed his brows as he looked down upon you. You raised your gaze to meet his, “I know you, Aemond. I know you better than I know the back of my hand— did you really think I would not figure out that you had plotted secretly with Ser Criston?” You questioned, and Aemond sighed, his heart warming further for you as you uttered such words.

You sat upright to gain a better view of your husband, Aemond already feeling cold, as you removed yourself from his chest. “Be cautious, my love— do not be so reliant on Vhagar. Swear that you will return to me unscathed.” You implored, and Aemond leaned forward to capture your lips. When your lips parted, whatever tenderness you had was hidden behind your serious and threatening expression, urging your husband to be cautious and vigilant. “You will not make me a widow at only nine and ten, Aemond.” You said, voice overly serious and gaze scorching, but your husband still had the gall to laugh. “I wouldn’t dare to, my heart.” He said and captured your lips once more to seal his oath that he would return to you unharmed.

The whispers of vipers were deafening. ‘The king was slain,’ they would say. And murmurs had spread that the fall of the king was not caused by the Queen Who Never Was but rather by the One-Eyed Prince. You had stewed in silence as you could not possibly fathom what had happened. The only thing that had kept you sane was a single letter that came from your husband stating that he was well and would fly back and return to you in a day or two.

You stood in the gardens alone as you pondered upon the whispers spreading around the keep when you felt strong hands wrap around your frame and lips pressing kisses upon your neck. Your tense frame momentarily turned lax at the touch of your husband. “I have missed you, my heart,” He said softly and tried to capture your lips— for him, a week was far too long not to be in your presence. Suspicion rose in you as you heard elation in his voice— elation that was rarely present in him. You turned and saw satisfaction glinting in Aemond’s eye. “What has happened?” You questioned, a sickening feeling in your stomach as your intuition told you that there was something afoot.

Aemond frowned at the seriousness on your face. “We had won the battle— we had effectively cut off Dragonstone by land, my plan proven effective.” He said, dipping down to try and capture your lips, but you backed away, your movements sending a tinge to Aemond’s heart. “What has happened to Aegon?” You whispered and saw how quickly the satisfaction in your husband’s eye disappeared. “The king was inexperienced in battle— he fought against the qualms of his council, and now he reaps the consequences.” You shook your head as you studied each expression of your husband. “Who had caused his injuries? They are whispering that it was not made by Rhaenys but rather by his own brother… tell me the truth of it, Aemond.”

Your husband sighed, stirring you to the side, away from prying eyes and ears. “It was an unfortunate incident… but it was a necessary one. The end justifies the means, my heart. You must know this.” He whispered, hoping to see understanding in your eyes, but he could only see horror. Your mind spun at the words your husband said; you felt bile rising to your throat because, within a blink of an eye, you scarcely recognized the man before you— the man you had spent your whole life with, unrecognisable. Aemond felt his heart sink as you shook your head and removed his hold on you, hastily running away from him.

He knew what he had done was cruel— treasonous, but it was for the greater good. He could not watch idly as his brother commanded the throne even though he was unfit to rule. He could not stand to watch as Aegon squandered away his birthright and made their cause’s claim weak. It was a last resort that he had to succumb to— a last resort to save their faction and to prove himself worthy of you. Your words haunted him; the way you admitted that a part of you wished to be queen and the image of you wearing a tiara of rubies burned into his mind. He had to make it a reality. He needed to be king and have you by his side as his queen.

You avoided your husband the following days, unable to comprehend what he had somehow become. You had always known he had great ambitions—you would lie if you said that you had not encouraged his, for you as well had your own—but you never meant for it to come to this. You never thought of the possibility that Aemond would kill for the throne. For revenge, yes, but certainly not for his own brother’s station.

It was the day of Ser Criston’s return when you finally revealed yourself to Aemond. Standing by his side along with his mother as you three peered down on the few soldiers returning from battle, along with a cart that housed the fallen king who was clinging to life. You stared head-on as you felt the questioning and almost spiteful stare of the Queen Mother towards your husband. Not an ounce of remorse was shown by Aemond as he proudly wore the Valyrian steel dagger.

The queen walked off, ready to meet her firstborn son, and you moved to follow, but your husband took hold of your upper arm and forced you to look upon him. “How long will you ignore me, little wife?” He hummed, growing impatient with each day of your ignorance of him. You stayed quiet, unable to meet his gaze. It was torture for you as well— you had missed your husband greatly, but the guilt you felt by his actions, which you knew were partly because of you, was greater. You long tried to hide your disappointment as you were not made queen; you thought it cruel that they had taken you away from the arms of your mother moments after your birth just to be raised in the keep and groomed to be the perfect and dotting wife of a king and take it all away with just one notion.

All those years of effort and sacrifices were wasted. But you did not dwell on it further as they presented Aemond to be your husband instead. You knew he believed you and your family see him as a consolation prize— and for your house, he was, but for you, you would gladly trade away all the gold in your house’s coffers and the crown for Aemond. You had loved him ever since you two were children; you were intended for Aegon, but your heart had always longed for his younger brother. It was a shame that he could not see it until now.

It was flattering that he tried to prove himself to you— that he says he does not deserve you, but you could never agree to such sentiments because you knew in yourself that you were meant to be his. It pains you that whatever you say, whatever you do to reassure him that you are happy and content in his arms, even without the prestige of titles, he still does not believe you.

Aemond felt his heart twist further as you shook your head and walked off. He followed you quietly as you two ventured to the chambers of the king to bear witness to the price of ambition. You could not will yourself to walk in; the distant sight of Aegon filled with burns, clinging to life, along with his death rattle breathing, was enough for you to flee away. Aemond watched as you stumbled through the halls, unable to bear the sight of what he had done. It was only then did Aemond felt guilt. Not guilt for what he had done to his brother but guilt as he saw your reaction— it was only then did he realized that the weight of his actions would affect his lady-wife as well.

It was sundown when your uncle sought you out. Telling you what had transpired in the small council and how Aemond was named Prince Regent. He as well questioned you as to what you knew about the battle in Rook’s Rest and if your husband had confided in you any secrets, as all who had returned from the battlefield kept a tight lip. You said not a word. Your loyalty to your husband has proven to be greater than your guilt for Aegon’s state.

“Greatly unfortunate as the events were… I must say that the council and I are relieved that your husband shall see to the concerns of the Realm.” Your uncle muttered, and you sat stiffly in your seat. “Really?” You asked in a small voice. “King Aegon might be the firstborn, but all are aware that Aemond has the tact to rule. Let us pray that he would lead our side to victory— his brother certainly cannot.” He sighed as he stood, kissing your cheek as he exited your private chambers, leaving you to ponder on his words.

A storm came at night, and you could not find rest as your husband was not by your side. The rain and thunder always made you uneasy, and at times like these, you greatly relied on Aemond for comfort. You walked the path to your marital chambers and peeked inside, only to see your husband was absent. You walked along the cold halls of the keep, searching for Aemond in his usual spots, but to no avail. Your feet carried you to the great hall, and there you found him, staring upon the iron throne. You bit your lip as you studied him, staring at the prize of his efforts.

Aemond felt a presence join him, and he turned his gaze and was met with you. “Was it worth the price?” You questioned, a steely look on his face as he thought over your words. You stood still as your husband took slow strides towards you. “If it proves me worthy of you, then it does.” You let out a breath as he said the words. “Aemond… how many times must I repeat myself— you do not need to prove yourself to me. I— I love you unconditionally. I do not need the throne or a crown… can you still not see that all I want is you?”

Aemond cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. “What’s done is done. We need not dwell on this matter, my heart. What is important is that we got what we wanted— we finally have what we deserve.” He whispered, lips flying towards yours. You felt weak as your lips entangled with your husband’s. “This… this is not right.” You whispered as his kisses trailed down to your neck and to the valley of your breasts, his fingers slipping off the shift you wore, leaving you standing bare in the middle of the throne room. “What is not right is that our efforts and potential are wasted as those who are unfit for the title, rule. We were made for the throne, my heart… stop resisting it; you know it is the truth.”

You breathed heavily as you watched your husband fall to his knees, and his lips kissed your cunny. “Admit what you want, my heart.” His voice muffled against your skin, your hands moving to grip his hair and steady yourself as his tongue drew circles upon your cunt. You feel him grip your thighs, urging you to speak. “You… I want you.” You cried, desperately writhing your cunt against his face. “And?” He questioned, and you tilted your head back, your climax quick to come as your body ached for your husband’s touch. “To be queen… I want you and be queen,” You admitted with a gasp as you felt his tongue enter your dripping core. Aemond smirked against your cunt; his body fueled with need as he tasted your essence. When you came undone, he greedily licked and lapped any remnants of your release, not at all conscious that you two may be caught in such compromising situations.

You watched through the haze of your release as your husband stood and undid his trousers. Your gaze followed him as he stood behind you and slipped in his length; your loud, surprised moan echoed through the empty hall and was accompanied by the clap of thunder. You cried as Aemond mercilessly pounded into your cunt, your dazed gazes planted on the throne. You gasped for air as Aemond wrapped his calloused hand around your throat and urged you to rest your weight on his leather-covered chest; all the while, his thrusts were relentless. “Are you to come? Are you to come before the throne, my wife?” He taunted in your ear, biting the lobe, and you could only cry in pleasure, your body arching and your hips meeting each of his thrusts. “Yes… yes!” You cried as his other hand returned to its usual torment and drew circles upon your cunt.

You threw your head back upon Aemond’s shoulders as you were met with your second release. With a few more thrusts, you feel him come undone, his seed filling your cunt, and he could only hope that it would finally take, for he surely needed heirs. Aemond turned your head to face his and kissed your lips, finally feeling a speck of calm in his raging being, for he knew he had secured the station that you both deserved.

As you two tried to relish in the calm brought by your climaxes, outside the great hall, the castle was in an uproar as the king drew in his last breath. Men searching for the prince regent to inform him of the dire news. They scoured every corner of the castle and soon found their new king seated on the iron throne with his queen bouncing on his cock, Aemond fucking her in their rightful place.

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aiaknows · 3 months ago

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When my favorite fanfic author apologize for writing 3k word counts and more. Like, what do you mean "Sorry, I got a little carried away"??? No love, please don't apolgize. Write as many words as you want. Show us how amazing and talented you are. Mwa💋

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dyingswanpavlova · 2 months ago

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Your ghostly lover

Chapter 1

Pairing: Jaime Lannister × Targaryen!Reader × Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Mentions of Violence and Murder, Mentions of Forced Marriage, Threatening, Isolation, Loneliness, Ghosts and Spirits, Joffrey being Joffrey and butchering some rats

Author's note: This is a House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones-Crossover. The first chapter takes place in the past. The wedding doesn't take place until the Reader is 19.

You're one of the last two living Targaryens. While your sister Daenerys roams free across the Narrow Sea, you're being forced to marry the man who once killed your father. The Kingslayer has yet to find out about the spirit that lives in your mirror and his evil plans.

Six Years Ago

Life was a terrible thing.

In your book, things were going pretty roughly. Was it destiny? Fate? Or maybe you were made to suffer, because of the mistakes you made in your past life. Another theory you had was that you had to pay for the terrible things your ancestors did. Your father, for a start, had been a terrible person. That much was out of question.

Your sister was on her best way to destroy the rest of the world.

Your brothers, they were more complicated. Viserys had been a lost cause, ever since he had been forced to flee. Of course life had taken a toll on him, but did that really make up for all the terrible things he did?

Rhaegar. Rhaegar had been…good, or so you thought. So you had heard.

You missed him. Actually, you missed them all. Without even knowing them.

You were the youngest, the babe of the family, if so you wish. But that didn’t help you much back in the day.

As problems come, this one came fast and unexpected. Your eldest brother died in battle, while your father got murdered by the man who swore to protect him. The same man you were now forced to wed.

Poor, little you. Too tiny and helpless, nothing more than a bundle of joy and youthfulness, when life took its toll on your family. Everyone else either made it out or got butchered.

Daenerys and Viserys were gone. Viserys made sure of it. And of course, he tried his best to keep you safe as well. But to take care of two little babes at once? When he, himself, was no more than a boy?

He set you down for no longer than a minute, desperate to find a way to get out of this godforsaken place. He only had two arms, and yet two little bundles to carry. Three mouths to feed. No milk in sight.

And when the men with the golden colored cloaks came, he had no choice.

It was too late for you anyway. And at least, you wouldn’t know what was going on. You were tiny and helpless. They would make it quick, right?

So, your brother scurried off, your sister in his arm, while you stayed on the concrete, writhing and crying, all cold and alone.

Poor, little you.

And even more so, because it was the Kingslayer himself who found you. They all had the same specific order.

Kill them all.

No matter the age, the size, the gender or how tiny and helpless they were.

He was supposed to kill you.

But when he picked your tiny form up, amethyst eyes full of tears and your little fists swinging through the air, he felt himself smile a sad smile.

A stubborn one. So fierce.

And in the end, he couldn’t do it. He knew, obviously, it might cost him his head. But no matter what or who he was, he wasn’t that.

He was not the right man to butcher a babe. And so he didn’t.

Sooner than later, you found yourself in the arms of the new king. Whatever it was that you possessed – maybe the fire in your big eyes? The innocence? – it gave him pause. To everyone’s great surprise, the new named king didn’t kill you.

If only he did. It would have spared you such heartbreak.

The next few years, you grew up in the Red Keep. Of course you were no one’s child. Expect for your hair color and the amethyst glint in your eyes, there was nothing Targaryen about you.

Aside from your stupid pride and your stubbornness.

You spent your days reading and watching the knights fight in the training yard. Your best chance for some company was your governess, but even that was an old woman, devoid of any emotion.

You were no one’s child.

And you name was given.

The king came from time to time to see how things were going. How you settled in in a world in which you didn’t belong. His children and his gruesome wife eyed you with disdain.

No, that was not true. The eldest one did, and the mother for sure.

The girl was curious and the boy was rather frightened. You loved to make a habit of scaring him. He was like a lost pup and for some reason you found it rather delightful how big his eyes got, whenever you attempted to lunge at him and stopped the last second.

The witch, how you liked to call her, would scold you and threaten you with all kinds of vile crimes, until her tiny, little brother came by and stopped her.

You hated her. You hated everyone.

And what you hated most was how no one spoke to you.

You were no one’s child and you were no one’s responsibility. In court, you saw children with their mothers. They picked them up and cradled them close, when they were weeping.

Weaklings, you thought. But it was not your heart that spoke there. It was your wounded pride and your loneliness.

Oh, how you wished to have a mother. A father. A sibling even. Someone to banter and to argue with, someone who wasn’t Joffrey. He was a twisted little rodent. Someone who cut open living rats, just to see their blood flow and the life leave their eyes as they hissed and cried. Someone who yanked on your hair and cried to his mother when you yanked at his.

Until the witch finally got her will. And you weren’t allowed near anyone. No one spoke to you, unless Tyrion came to fetch you some books. He pitied you, you could tell. How sad was that? Being pitied by the most pitied person in Westeros. Maybe that was the reason, you thought. He knew how it felt. But at least he was someone. You were no-one.

So you read. And you watched. Observed. Listened. But you never spoke.

Everyone was going about their own business, ignoring your existence as good as they could.

Sandor would glance at you with disdain whenever you threw a tantrum, and yet he’d be the one to pull you back, whenever you got into too much trouble.

There was that one time when you were in an especially bad mood. You felt there was no one the world who cared about you and what was far worse, you didn’t care about anyone either. What was there to live for in this godforsaken place?

You mustered up some courage, which wasn’t all too hard. You were a stubborn little wench.

Once the castle got surrounded by darkness, you snuck out of your chambers and blindly stepped your way through the halls. You knew the walls and every stone on the way, because all you did was observe. It wasn’t like you had other children around you to play with. All you had were your books and all the adults you had grown to despise. One more than the other and so on.

So that particular night, you were ready to leave this all behind, cornering the next hallway, when a firm voice stopped you. You froze instantly.

He was that one person you couldn’t quite decipher. You were almost sure, he had never spoken a single word to you. When you caught sight of him, he looked away immediately. It was like there was an invisible wall. And whenever you got too close to it, he pushed you back with all the fervor his constant ignorance and disdain could muster.

“Where do you think you are going?”

With the softest sigh, you turned back around. Your hair was a mess from all the tossing and turning and your eyes glassy by the way you hated life. This one, at least.

“I-“

“No, forget it. Follow me.”

You sighed again and with slow, hesitant steps followed the Kingslayer back to your chambers. He held the door open and ushered you inside. The guards nearby got the scolding of their life, but you? He didn’t regard with yet another glance. He disappeared back into the night and left you alone with your sadness.

You didn’t truly mind. You found, there was something unsettling about him. Of course you knew the rumors about him and his sister, the witch of Westeros. And if one paid close attention, you could see the lewd glanced they’d share from time to time.

It wasn’t that you cared about that per say. It was more that you couldn’t understand how anyone ever managed to love that heartless hag. Not even him. The knight who held no soul.

You were clever enough never to let anyone see your sadness outright. When it came to these people, the ones who fiercely ignored you, you had no feelings but anger and no traits but stubbornness.

It wasn’t until another night, few years later, when someone was kind to you. You couldn’t quite tell who it was, you just knew she was old, but her eyes were gentle. Much different from your governess’ or the dark lord who owned Casterly Rock and half of Westeros.

“Dear child. Forgive me the intrusion.”

You had eyed her suspiciously, half-expecting her to set your hair on fire by Cersei’s order. You had been no older than ten and three, when the old man approached your chambers.

“I used to work for your mother, you see.”

Now, that caught your interest.

“My mother? What do you know about my mother?”

The warmth in her smile had been enough to make you feel wistful and even more lonely.

“I know that she loved you very much. Which was also the reason, why she gave birth to you, despite all the high risks. She knew she would not make it, child. But she still had you.”

A low, sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach later, she added: “I have something of hers. And I think you should have it, instead.”

Her visit had been short-lived, but her presence stayed with you. It changed the entire course of your life and probably, the whole future of Westeros.

It was a mirror. A pretty one, indeed, but simply a mirror. It felt odd in your hand. No one ever gave you any presents, except for Tyrion and his countless books. But this, it was different. The weight of the mirror in your hand made you feel somewhat comforted. It was your mothers. Your mothers.

She had loved you.

Someone had loved you.

Even if no one did now, it gave you endless comfort to know, that there once been someone who did.

After holding onto the mirror tightly for what felt like an eternity, you finally set it down and choked back your own tears. Was this how life was supposed to make you feel?

The next thing you remembered varied in your mind. It had been too much and too overwhelming to remember it clearly. It was just too odd. Your mind couldn’t comprehend and so it made up new scenarios and details whenever you thought back to it.

In some versions of the memory, you heard his voice first.

In other versions, you saw the soft glow that gleamed around the handle first, slowly stretching out over the cold surface.

Whatever it was, it was.

And suddenly you weren’t alone anymore.

“Princess.”

A voice so soft-spoken that you hardly recognized it. No, you were sure you were making up things. Maybe the mirror was indeed a cruel jest Cersei pulled on you. Maybe it was tinged in something, some substance, that made you lose your mind.

“Princess.” You heard again. Soft and gentle, like a caress.

You had no idea what a caress felt like.

When you heard him a third time, you were suddenly certain. It was indeed real. You stiffened when you realized the sound came from the mirror.

There was a tight knot in your stomach, as well as your throat.

“What?” You murmured. “What is this-“

You sat up carefully and glanced down to where the mirror was set, only to realize it wasn’t your own reflection you were seeing.

With a soft shriek, you recoiled and scurried over the bed, nearly falling to the ground. This wasn’t a trick, but you wished it was.

He had long, straight hair that looked like it was made of silk, in the same color your own hair was tinged. His expression was soft, but there was something so off about him. His one eye was amethyst-colored like your own were, but the other one, you couldn’t tell. It was covered by a black eye-patch, his lips pressed into a straight line.

He was a pretty sight, indeed. Beautiful even. More handsome than any man, any knight you had ever seen.

But why was he there? Why was he at all?

“I can hear your breathing, princess.” God, his voice felt like a thousand little stabs, caused by the gentleness of a cloud. “Fear not. I wish to see you. ‘tis me, princess. I am your blood.”

After what felt like forever you slowly crawled back over the bed, but not yet enough to face him fully.

“What are you?” You heard yourself whisper in a voice that was your hardly your own.

What then happened was even more strange. His lips curved into a smile and it lit up his entire face. The dark, gloomy prince, who missed an eye, suddenly became something kind and gentle. It made you swallow.

“Not what, princess. Who. ‘tis me, your blood.” He repeated. “You may have heard of me. Aemond. Aemond Targaryen.”

That made you pause. And suddenly you felt nauseous.

Aemond Targaryen? The prince? The same prince who had died so long ago?

“What? You cannot be. Aemond Targaryen died and I am talking to a mirror, for the Gods’ sake! You can tell Cersei-“

“I am not sent by Cersei, princess.”

“Then who sent you?!” Your disbelief slowly turned into anger. Whatever trick this was, it felt cruel to you. You had no one after all. And to make fun of your parentage like this? It was simply cruel.

“No one sent me.” He sighed in a way that made you feel calmer than before, but also tired. “Let me see you, princess. I promise you, I will bring no harm your way.”

You fought and argued with yourself in your head. The clever thing would have been to discard the mirror and inform…Who would you even inform? No one spoke to you and no one would believe you. You would end up the mad girl. So, with a soft sigh of your own, you picked up the mirror, but you held it as far away from your body as you could. And then you faced him, very carefully.

He observed your reaction and his lip twitched in amusement.

“Look at that. The princess is fearless.”

You frowned at that. “I am no princess.”

His good eye shot open. “They poisoned your mind.” He murmured.

Your frown deepened. “Who?”

“The bad people.” He hummed softly. Everything about him was so…calm. “The lions.”

After a beat, he quietly asked: “Do you even know who you are?”

You had a rough idea about it, but you weren’t entirely sure. You knew your parentage held some kind of importance to some people, but that was in the past. You were left to fend for yourself, in a pit filled with lions, but no dragons in sight.

“I…”

He tsked softly.

“My darling, darling girl. It is about time your fire returned. And I will make sure it does.”

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novaursa · 6 months ago

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Web of Gold (royal wedding)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Pairing: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen (+Aemond Targaryen?)

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: aegon is jealous

- Next part: honeymoon

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995 @thisbiann @whiteoakoak

- A/N: The last part was skipping from present to past. I forgot to mention that. It has been fixed now.

The grand hall of the Red Keep has never looked so splendid. Golden tapestries hang from the walls, catching the light from the myriad of candles that bathe the room in a warm, shimmering glow. The floors are strewn with rich red and gold carpets, their colors a perfect match for the union taking place today—a union that has the blood of the dragon and the wealth of the lion entwined.

Your wedding to King Aegon II is nothing short of a spectacle. All of the nobility of Westeros is in attendance, their finery dazzling, but none more so than the families of the bride and groom. The Hightowers and the Lannisters are well represented, their seats in the front rows filled with dignified faces that watch every movement with keen interest.

At the head of it all stands Aegon, his usually unruly silver hair smoothed back for the occasion, though he still carries that familiar smirk as if he's already thinking about the revelry that will follow. He’s dressed in a regal black and red ensemble that reflects his Targaryen heritage, but with touches of gold embroidery—no doubt a nod to your Lannister lineage. As you approach down the aisle, his eyes are fixed solely on you, and his smirk softens into something more genuine, more admiring.

You, in turn, glide down the aisle with all the grace expected of a Lannister bride. Your gown is a masterpiece, shimmering gold and crimson silk, with intricate embroidery that mimics the flames of dragons and the roaring lions of your house. The entire court seems to hold its breath as you make your way toward Aegon, your steps light and confident, a smile playing at your lips.

Behind you, your uncles, the infamous Lannister twins, Tyland and Jason, follow with their usual contrasting expressions. Tyland, ever the composed and political one, watches the proceedings with an air of satisfaction, knowing how well this match bodes for the Lannister name. Jason, on the other hand, appears more relaxed, casting admiring glances around the hall and clearly enjoying the pomp and grandeur of it all. He leans over to Tyland at one point, whispering something, likely a comment on the opulence of the Red Keep, which Tyland responds to with a curt nod, his face impassive.

At the altar, Dowager Queen Alicent stands beside Otto Hightower, her father, both of them watching the ceremony with varying degrees of restraint. Alicent’s expression is one of controlled politeness, though there’s a tightness around her eyes that betrays her discomfort. She still hasn’t entirely warmed to the idea of her beloved son marrying someone who so effortlessly draws his attention away from her. Otto, however, seems entirely pleased, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if mentally counting the alliances being forged today.

Aemond stands beside his brother, his face a mask of impassivity, though you know him well enough by now to catch the faint flicker of amusement in his eye. No doubt he finds the spectacle of Aegon getting married as something of an ironic twist, considering how hard Aegon fought to maintain his so-called "freedom." Aemond’s hand rests lightly on the hilt of his sword, as always, a silent reminder of his ever-watchful nature.

Helaena is there too, her dreamy expression focused on something far beyond the festivities, though she smiles softly when you pass her by. She’s dressed in a lovely gown of pale blue, her hair adorned with delicate silver ornaments shaped like butterflies. She murmurs something to herself, perhaps a quiet blessing for your future, though it’s impossible to tell for sure.

As you finally reach Aegon’s side, the High Septon Eustace begins the ceremonial words, his voice echoing through the hall. You can feel the eyes of the court on you, but your focus remains on Aegon, who is staring at you with a look that’s equal parts admiration and barely restrained mischief. His hand, warm and steady, slips into yours as you both face the High Septon, the weight of the crown on your head a constant reminder of the power this union represents.

“Do you, Aegon Targaryen, take Y/N of House Lannister to be your lawful wife, to honor and protect, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” the High Septon intones.

Aegon’s grin spreads wide across his face, a flash of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I do,” he says, his voice rich with confidence, though there’s a playful edge to it that makes it clear he’s already thinking of what comes after the ceremony.

“And do you, Y/N of House Lannister, take Aegon Targaryen to be your lawful husband, to honor and stand beside, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

You meet Aegon’s gaze, the room around you momentarily fading as you reply, “I do.”

The High Septon raises his hands in blessing, proclaiming you husband and wife, and the hall erupts in applause. Aegon, ever the dramatic, doesn’t wait for the formal conclusion before leaning in to kiss you, his hands cupping your face as if you’re the only person in the room. The kiss is bold, full of the reckless passion Aegon is known for, and the court watches with varying degrees of approval and amusement.

Tyland and Jason exchange glances, Jason stifling a chuckle while Tyland remains impassive, though his eyes gleam with pride. They know the political weight of this match—House Lannister is now further entwined with the crown, and their power has only grown.

Alicent, however, watches the display with barely concealed annoyance, her lips pressed into a tight smile. She claps politely, though there’s a stiffness to her movements, a reminder that, in her mind, no one could ever truly be good enough for her precious son. Otto, on the other hand, seems entirely pleased, his eyes flicking toward Alicent as if to gauge her reaction, though he remains composed.

Aemond watches the kiss with a raised brow, a flicker of bemusement crossing his features. He shifts slightly, as though resisting the urge to roll his eye, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

The rest of the court stands, applauding as you and Aegon turn to face them, now husband and wife. You can feel the weight of expectation on your shoulders, but you stand tall, regal, with Aegon by your side. The cheers of the courtiers fill the hall, a cacophony of voices celebrating your union, and for a moment, it feels as though you and Aegon have already won over the entire kingdom.

As the feast begins, Jason Lannister raises his goblet in a loud toast. “To King Aegon and his golden bride! May their union bring strength to the realm!” His voice booms across the hall, earning cheers and nods of approval from the Lannisters in attendance.

Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity to revel in attention, raises his own goblet and smirks at you. “And may she forever spoil me with her affection, wine, and… other delights.”

The court erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too, casting a glance at Aemond, whose eye twitches in amusement, though he’s quick to hide it behind another sip of wine.

The night is long, filled with feasting, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as alliances are silently solidified with every toast. And as the evening draws on, you and Aegon bask in the glow of your new roles—King and Queen, dragon and lion, forever entwined in the history of Westeros.

The grand feast is in full swing. Laughter echoes off the vaulted ceilings of the Red Keep’s great hall, the clink of goblets and the shuffle of servants bringing more trays of roasted meats, fruits, and breads filling the space. At the high table, you sit next to Aegon, who is already well on his way to being pleasantly drunk. His cheeks are flushed, his laughter a little too loud, and every so often, he leans in to whisper something entirely inappropriate in your ear—something about what he intends to do later, no doubt—but you smile and nod, indulging him.

Across the table, Helaena sits quietly, her dreamy eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight as if it holds secrets only she can see. She picks absentmindedly at her plate, her fingers twirling a piece of bread like it's a delicate piece of embroidery. You catch her eye and smile warmly.

"Helaena," you say softly, leaning toward her, "are you enjoying the feast?"

She blinks, her gaze shifting to you as if coming back to the present from some distant dream. Her lips curve into a small, sweet smile. "It’s beautiful," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "But the butterflies… they’re dancing too close to the fire."

You pause, tilting your head, unsure whether she’s speaking in metaphors or if this is just one of Helaena’s usual cryptic musings. Either way, you smile back. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on the butterflies, then.”

She giggles softly, her fingers finally releasing the bread as she takes a sip from her goblet. There’s something endearing about Helaena, her quiet innocence standing in contrast to the rowdy festivities around her. You find her company refreshing—though you’re well aware that others find her eccentric nature unsettling.

As you pour another cup of wine for Aegon, who is now thoroughly engaged in a one-sided conversation with Ser Criston about something involving dragons (though Criston’s blank stare suggests he’s only pretending to listen), you feel a sharp gaze on you. Without even looking, you know it’s Alicent.

You glance up to find her watching you with that familiar tight-lipped expression of disapproval. Her hands are clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles have gone white. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate the way you cater to Aegon’s whims, particularly when it involves filling his goblet over and over. But tonight, she says nothing, her lips pressed into a thin, sour line as she watches you with silent judgment.

You flash her a smile, sweet as honey, and deliberately pour Aegon’s cup a little fuller than necessary, making sure the wine sloshes right to the rim. He grins up at you with a sloppy, grateful smile, lifting his goblet with an exaggerated flourish.

“Ah, my perfect queen!” Aegon slurs, raising the cup in a toast that sends a bit of wine splashing over the side. “Always knows exactly what I need.”

You pat his hand and nod, biting back a laugh. “Yes, my love. Always.”

Alicent’s expression tightens even further, but she still says nothing, clearly choosing to hold her tongue rather than cause a scene at such a grand occasion. Her frustration, however, is palpable.

With Aegon now thoroughly distracted by his wine and the increasingly nonsensical conversation with Ser Criston, you take the opportunity to slip away for a moment. The noise of the feast dulls slightly as you move toward the quieter end of the hall, where Aemond stands, ever the watchful observer, his gaze scanning the room like a hawk searching for prey. He doesn’t sit—Aemond never seems to relax the way Aegon does. Instead, he stands with a goblet of wine in hand, his tall frame as rigid and poised as ever.

As you approach, he glances at you, his single eye cool but alert, that faint smirk already playing on his lips as if he knows exactly why you’ve come.

“Your husband looks quite… spirited this evening,” Aemond says, his voice low and smooth. His gaze flickers to where Aegon is now halfway through another story, clearly embellishing the details for the benefit of anyone still bothering to listen.

You chuckle, standing beside him, your fingers brushing the stem of your own goblet. “Yes, well, that’s to be expected, isn’t it? A wedding and an endless supply of wine—it’s a dangerous combination for Aegon.”

Aemond’s lips twitch with amusement. “Dangerous for him, perhaps. More tiresome for the rest of us.”

You raise your goblet slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. “I suppose you’re used to enduring such… tiresome things, aren’t you, Aemond?”

His eye narrows slightly, a knowing glint in it. “I endure what I must. Though some things…” He pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a fraction longer than necessary, “are more tolerable than others.”

You hum in response, your lips curving into a small, playful smile. “How kind of you to say. And here I thought you preferred your solitude over any company.”

Aemond sips his wine, his eye never leaving yours. “Solitude has its merits. But there are certain… exceptions.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you, subtle but unmistakable. You glance back toward Aegon, who is now attempting to stand, swaying slightly as he raises his goblet in yet another toast, clearly drunk beyond reason. The sight is both amusing and pitiful, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for your new husband. But at the same time, the pull of Aemond’s presence is undeniable, the tension between you two thickening with every passing second.

“And would I be one of those exceptions?” you ask softly, turning your attention back to Aemond. Your tone is light, teasing, but there’s a sharper edge beneath it.

Aemond’s smirk deepens, his gaze darkening as he lowers his goblet. He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You already know the answer to that.”

Your heart quickens, but you keep your expression neutral, unwilling to give too much away. This dance between you and Aemond has been ongoing for some time—never spoken of directly, never acted upon, but always there, clawing just beneath the surface. And tonight, with Aegon too drunk to notice, the tension feels sharper than ever.

Before you can respond, Aegon’s voice cuts through the room, loud and slurred. “Y/N! Where are you, my queen? Come! We must… celebrate!”

You bite back a laugh, casting Aemond a glance that’s equal parts amused and exasperated. “Duty calls,” you say, stepping away with a sigh.

Aemond’s eye follows you as you move back toward Aegon, the weight of his gaze lingering on you like a silent promise.

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cherryknotsclub · 15 days ago

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hot mean characters all have degradation and humiliation kinks, and no one can change my mind.

sure, they'll be nicer to you than they are to everyone else. but they'll be menaces in bed and just absolutely bully you while they fuck you. slut. whore. needy. bitch. these are just some of the things they call you while they pound your pussy with their cocks. they'll make it seem like they'd rather you're an obedient bunny. but they secretly love it when you're a brat because it gives them the excuse to bend you over their lap to bruise your ass or fuck you until you're dumb.

they're not selfish lovers. in fact, they'll make you cum over and over until you're shaking and crying and unable to babble anything other than their name. they'll tease you constantly, making comments about how easy they bring you to orgasm or how you're such a needy slut for cumming so much.

still, it's not just you who gets all the fun. they'll easily manhandle you, tossing you around like a ragdoll and stretching you until you're in the position they want you to be in while they fuck you mercilessly. they'll mock you when you cry, laughing at how emotional you get while being fucked by them. they'll kiss, grab, bite, smack, pinch at every inch of you that they want to, making sure to leave marks to remind you who you belong to.

they'll leave you a sobbing mess by the end of it, your body shaking from the painful pleasure they put you through while a mixture of your juices and their cum drip from your used holes.

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rottenfyre · 7 months ago

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𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘰.

The door opened without a knock, and in strode your eldest son, Aegon. His expression was one of barely contained fury, his mouth set in a hard line. He wore the black and red of his house, his silver hair shining in the light.

You didn’t rise or greet him formally. Instead, you took a slow sip of your wine, watching him like a cat watches a mouse caught in a trap.

“Mother,” he said, his voice sharp and clipped.

“Aegon,” you replied coolly, setting your goblet down with a faint clink. “Come, sit. You look as if you’ve been chewing on a sour lemon.”

Aegon’s nostrils flared slightly as he sat across from you. His jaw was tight, and his hands were clenched into fists.

“What did he do this time? Has your father’s wisdom left you choking on your own tongue?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s not wisdom he’s choking on. He’s a fool if he thinks Rhaenyra’s claim will hold this kingdom together. He’s determined to throw it all to the wolves. And for what? His precious daughter?”

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair, the wood creaking under the pressure. “He still insists on keeping Rhaenyra as his heir,” he spat, his voice brimming with frustration. “Despite all the signs—despite the whispers in the court, despite the tension between the lords—he clings to this foolish notion that she will unite the realm.”

You tilted your head, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Ah, the great dreamer, your father. One might think he’s convinced himself he lives in one of his old songs about gallant knights and wise queens.”

“Dreams,” Aegon spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he stalked toward the window, glaring out at the city below. “Dreams won’t stop the realm from tearing itself apart. His stubbornness is going to ruin us all.”

You arched an eyebrow and tilted your head, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Tell me, my dear, what’s worse: a king who refuses to see reason or a son who insists on treating every disagreement like a declaration of war?”

“I need to act, Mother,” Aegon growled. “The realm is on the verge of breaking apart, and he’s too blind to see it.”

You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on your fingers. “And how do you propose to fix this? Drag him from his throne by the scruff of his neck? That would be quite a sight.”

He glared at you, though there was no real malice in his eyes. “This isn’t a jest.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you replied smoothly. “But sometimes, my son, the truth is so absurd that the only thing left to do is laugh.”

Aegon’s eyes snapped back to you, sharp as daggers. “I am declaring war,” he said, his tone dangerous. “War on stupidity. Father is leaving our family vulnerable. The lords see weakness, and weakness is blood in the water. They will turn on us the moment Rhaenyra takes the throne.”

You laughed softly, amused by his intensity. “Oh, Aegon. Always so dramatic.” You paused, giving him a pointed look. “You think the lords will rise for her? The only thing these men rise for is power. Offer them that, and they will forget who was promised what. It’s always the same song, my son. Play the right tune, and they will dance to your music.”

Aegon clenched his fists at his sides, the tension rolling off him in waves. “The music won’t matter if Father continues to shield her with his blind loyalty. He treats her like she’s untouchable, like the gods themselves have chosen her to rule.”

“Ah, yes, the gods,” you said dryly, waving a dismissive hand. “A convenient excuse for poor decision-making. If we all did what the gods wanted, we’d be living in rags and begging for scraps. No, Aegon, the gods don’t care for the affairs of men. This game, this fight for the throne—it belongs to us. It always has.”

Aegon paced in front of you, his mind racing. “And yet, here I am, watching as the realm slips through my fingers because my father insists on upholding his dying legacy. Rhaenyra is weakness. She’ll tear the kingdom apart the moment she’s crowned, and he refuses to see it.”

“Your father has always been a romantic at heart,” you said with a sigh. “He’s clinging to the idea that love and family will prevail over politics. A fool’s hope, if ever there was one.”

“Fool,” Aegon muttered under his breath, his frustration clear.

You regarded him with a look that was equal parts admiration and exasperation. “Just as I expected,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Aegon furrowed his brow. “What?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. I'm just proud of my son. Ruthless, cold, but oh so clever.”

He blinked, unsure if you were complimenting him or insulting him.

You leaned back, your voice turning serious now. “Aegon, you have ambition, that much is clear. And yes, your father’s decision may well lead to war. But wars are not won by anger and frustration. They are won by strategy, by waiting for the right moment to strike.”

“I don’t have time to wait,” Aegon said through gritted teeth. “If we delay, we will lose support. The longer Rhaenyra remains the heir, the more dangerous she becomes.”

You smirked. “Dangerous? Rhaenyra? The woman has more soft edges than the pillows on my bed.”

“She’s dangerous because of the people around her,” Aegon snapped. “Daemon, Corlys, and all those who would see her on the throne. They will turn the realm against us.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Daemon is certainly a problem. And Corlys…well, his stupidity is only matched by his ego. But you are right. The lords will not stay loyal to Rhaenyra for long if they sense weakness.”

Aegon looked at you, his eyes sharp and determined. “Then we need to act.”

You held up a hand. “Calm yourself, boy. This isn’t a tavern brawl. You must act carefully, deliberately. There’s a difference between being strong and being reckless. Don’t be such a child about it.”

Aegon’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I’m not a child.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Then stop acting like one, stamping your feet because your father won’t do as you wish. He won’t change his mind, Aegon. He’s too proud and too stubborn, just like you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “Listen, Aegon. I raised you to be a ruler, not a brute. You must understand the importance of timing. Your father will not change his mind easily, but he is not your true enemy. The lords, the people—they are the ones you must win over.”

“And what would you have me do, Mother?”

You gave him a small, almost conspiratorial smile. “You show them that you are the only one who can protect them. You play the part of the dutiful son, for now. Let your father continue with his dream. But when the time comes—and it will come—you make sure the realm sees you as the only viable option. The lords are like sheep. They will follow the strongest shepherd.”

Aegon’s eyes narrowed slightly, the wheels in his mind turning. “I can steady it,”

You smiled. “I know. And you will. But you have to be patient. Anger makes for terrible decisions.”

“I have no patience left for Father’s foolishness,” Aegon muttered.

“Then let him be foolish,” you replied coolly. “Let him play his hand. And when the time is right, we’ll play ours.”

“And what if the time never comes?” Aegon asked, his voice low, full of doubt.

You smiled, leaning back once more. “Oh, it will. It always does.”

Aegon stood there for a moment, visibly wrestling with himself, before he let out a long breath and sat down across from you. “You’ve always had more faith in my future than I have.”

“I trained you for this, didn’t I?” you said dryly. “I didn’t raise a fool. Nor did I raise a man who lets his temper dictate his choices. You should know that the moment you act out of rage, you’ve already lost.”

Aegon’s lips twitched, the tension in the room easing slightly. “So, I’m to be the calm one, while everyone else runs around like fools?”

“You are to be the calm storm,” you corrected. “Let them think you’re passive, let them underestimate you. The realm is full of fools, but we are not among them.”

Aegon finally allowed himself a small, grim smile. “You’re far more ruthless than anyone may think, Mother.”

You raised your goblet in a mock toast. “I take that as a compliment.”

He nodded, his resolve clearly strengthening. “I’ll bide my time, then. But when the time comes—”

“When the time comes,” you interrupted smoothly, “you’ll be ready. And the realm will kneel to you, as it should.”

Aegon stood, the weight of your words settling comfortably on his shoulders. “I’ll see to it.”

You watched him head toward the door, then called after him. “Aegon.”

He paused, glancing back at you.

“Don’t be afraid to smile,” you added with a wicked smirk. “It unsettles people when a king looks like he’s already won.”

Aegon chuckled, a rare sound, but one that left the room with more tension released than when he’d entered.

As he left, you leaned back in your chair, sipping your wine and staring out the window again. The game had been in motion for years, and your son had finally learned how to play it.

“Well,” you murmured to yourself, “this should be interesting.”

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3 ♡ Part 4 ♡ Part 5

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

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errruvande · 8 months ago

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Sending them a spicy picture modern HC

Summery: while he's on a important meeting and you are bored alone at home, you decided to send him a spicy picture

Included characters: Green Small Council: Aegon II, Aemond, Tyland, Larys, Otto

A/N: this is my first piece for HotD, I hope it's more or less in character 👉🏻👈🏻

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated in this house 🥹

Aegon didn't bother to put his phone on silent when the meeting started, so when he received a message from you, everyone in the room lifted their heads and stared at him. He was rightfully bored and empty-headed, absolutely unbothered by all the discussions, playing with decorative marbled sphere right until he clicked on the message from you.

He lifted the phone from the table and swiped the notification to almost jump on his seat, awestruck. This Aegon-branded stupid wide smile stretched on his face while he stared eagerly at the screen of his phone. You were naked, only covering the much desired parts of your body with a thin, almost see-through material.

[new message from Aegon: fuck... Fuck fuck fuck, can you bend a little?? For me?? Cause my cock is hard already but I haven't seen your wet cunt still...]

Aegon giggled and bit his lip, typing how he'd have fucked you right now and that his cock is already hard by just looking at you. Every single person on the meeting saw his tongue slither through his teeth.

[new message from Aegon: fuck it, I'm going home!]

Aegon stood up from his seat, his pants uncomfortably tight for everyone to notice. As a main player, who has inherited the company after his father's death, he vaguely waved his hands and told everyone to go, the meeting has ended. He wanted to fuck you and he was more than just delighted that you wanted it too.

When he burst through the door of your apartment and found you lying spread on the bed, toy in hand, he felt wholeheartedly smug about it. He joined you immediately, tugging his pants and trousers down and leaving them on the floor.

"You know how to make my day worth living, baby" was the last word Aegon spoke before sliding between your thighs.

Aemond lowered his gaze at the vibrating phone, expression on his face didn't change from a solid rock seriousness and scorn. He hated everyone in the room. He turned the phone, screen up, and checked the notifications.

[New message from "my queen": picture]

Eyeing everyone in the room, he looked down and swiped the notification. His jaw clenched and lips screwed. He hated when you were doing it. He hated that he was getting hard in the middle of the important meeting. Aemond cruelly left you on "seen", turning his phone screen to the table, trying not to think about your wet thighs that were spread to the camera. It was adorable how after all these years you still tried to impress and catch his attention this way.

Not giving you any attention at the meeting, Aemond definitely decided to let you know everything what was on his mind as soon as he came home.

"I told you not to do so, didn't I" he was about to punish you for your disobedience, throwing you on the bed. "You like to play with fire, don't you? Give me your wet pussy then and water that fire down"

Larys was the horniest mothefucker you could possibly find in the RedKeep corp. There haven't been a day when he wasn't jerking off in the company toilets or in his office, flipping through some porn journals or, as it was that day, looking at your picture.

He peeked at his phone when the message came through and his posture straightened to tighten his pants around his hardening cock. The picture of you in the little cute lingerie with thin white knee socks on.

He didn't send back any text, but you knew exactly what he was doing right at that moment, and the thought of it made your insides warm with pleasure.

He slid the hand under the table to work though his own pants and trouser, wrapped his palm around his dick and started tugging on it. He knew his trouser will be all dirty in his cum. Did he cared? Absolutely fucking not. He tried not to be too smug about it, but every time he stroke his cock the lusting smile appeared on his face.

As he finished, he sent you a picture of his own, totally spent cock.

[new message from Larys: can you send another one in like 20 minutes????"]

Otto was the only member of the council that literally turns his phone off during the meeting. He was a goat at this game, going to his job to actually work. So he didn't know that you sent him anything right until the meeting had ended and he retired to his own office.

He turned on the phone and 5 notifications popped up.

[new message from "Y/N": picture]

[new message from "Y/N: ?????]

[new message from "Y/N": Don't you like it????]

[mew message from "Y/N": Otto????]

He opened the conversation and immediately drew in air sharply and smacked his lips. Otto wasn't particularly horny, so the picture itself wasn't a major turn on for him, it's not that his cock hardened just by looking at your absolutely drained wet panties. He smirked, typing words into the input window.

[new message from "Otto": Are you trying to be a naughty girl? Save your lust for a few hours, I'd be home soon and look at how you behave."]

Tyland wasn't a type to be easily distracted during the meetings, but being an attentive husband as he was, he couldn't resist the urge to check the notification from you when it popped up on the screen of his phone. What if it was an emergency?

In fact, it was an emergency. You wanted to fuck so bad you could literally die from the lust. As soon as Tyland clicked on the notification, he almost threw his phone on the table, screen down, and glanced around the room hectically. As he tried to gather his scattered thoughts, he took the phone and opened the conversation with you once more.

"delete this please" he started to type only to delete it afterwards. His face became red and hot as fire as his eyes kept wandering from the input window to your very intimate photo. "This is beyond words inappropriate, love" he typed again only to never send this one either.

He tried to remain calm and prudent, as he always was, but the pleasingly painful arousal already turned his abdomen into a knot. So he stared into the wall, not being able to listen to whatever proposals were suggested. He was too frightened to move, to tug on that string that has already been tight enough for him to breathe with caution, not to whimper or moan.

When the meeting ended, he rushed to his office, typing your name in his contacts.

"Love you know how embarrassed I was just a moment ago??? I..I couldn't find a place to hide, and they all were looking at me, and my face was probably too red for them not to notice it and do you mind sending another one???? You looked so pretty!"

Thank you for reading 💞

@bilbotargaryen idk I just think you might be interested in this mess lmao

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xxnymeriatargaryenxx · 8 months ago

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imagine getting your 🐱 ate on these stairs omggg or being bent over 🔥🔥

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sophiemariepl · 9 months ago

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Okay, I actually love Gayle Rankin’s acting as Alys Rivers, but where are my “Aemond deserves a Lannister wife” girlies at?

(And yes, I’m still writing this fic about Aemond and Cerelle Lannister. Or constantly rewriting it.)

#house of the dragon #hotd #asoiaf #pre asoiaf #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!OC #Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!reader #house targaryen #house hightower #house lannister #ewan mitchell #alys rivers #gayle rankin

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klaus-littlestwolf · 27 days ago

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Meant to be His -Aemond T.

Aemond was very close with his Aunt when he was young, realizing at a young age that he had a definite crush, however other than scare off her suitors, there was nothing he could do…not until he was older.

Aemond is finally old enough to be with her and he has to ensure that her husband is gone before her family comes to speak for Lucerys’ inheritance.

Warning: Murder, Targcest, Inappropriate pets (Lions Do Not Belong as Pets)

He’d had a crush on Y/n since he could remember, he was only 3 when he first remembered realizing his feelings but they had always been there. She was the one that was always there for him and he for her, whenever he needed to cry to her over his horrible brother and cousins, or when she was stressed about her days in court and people trying to force her to marry.

He crawled into her bed with her almost every night, snuggling in with her and sleeping better than he ever did alone. Aemond was the one who scared off her suitors, the boy following along when she was strolling through the gardens with one of them, asking a million questions and clinging to her skirts, making sure that the men knew that they were a “package deal” and that they wouldn’t have her without him.

By the time that Aemond was 18 he had clearly figured out what his feelings were as a child and at first he was horrified that he’d fallen for his Aunt, but when he thought about it more he realized how much his Aunt had needed him. He had given her comfort by being with her all of the time and chasing away her suitors while she had done the same for him by being there for him when he had no one else.

She had been married off to Tytos Lannister (a cousin of Jason and Tywin Lannister-twins who served the crown) after the night he’d lost his eye, Aemond no longer fighting for her and leaving her all alone. He hated himself for that. She wasn’t afraid of him, hadn’t judged him and had stayed with him all night that night while he was in agony-and yet still, he’d left her alone…he needed to rectify this and so he would.

He had been told that they were coming, the whole family, including Y/n who had still yet to bear the Lannister a single child-leaving everyone to believe that there was something wrong with her. Aemond did not believe that though, he knew that she was drinking moon tea, she had admitted to him she always would if she was forced to marry a man she did not love.

Aemond left Vhagar behind as he made his way to Casterly Rock, not willing to risk anyone knowing that it was him-even though he was sure as soon as they married that people would always suspect.

It was the middle of the night and the guards were way to easy to get around prompting Aemond to vow guards outside her door 24/7. Sneaking into the main bedroom was simple but he quickly found out that his soon to be wife’s husband did not sleep there-he also realized as he saw her pet sleeping at the foot of her bed, why she didn’t need guards at the door. As he made to go and search for him he was startled by her voice behind him.

‘Aemond?’ He winced, turning to see her in her lovely night dress, she was as lovely as the day he first cuddled her in her bed as a boy.

‘You are dreaming Issa Darīa…lay back down-‘ (My Queen)

‘Aemond…what are you doing here?’ She asked, looking down to see the blade in his hand.

‘Y/n…I would have you be my wife…your family will be in the Keep in a weeks time and I would have you widowed and married off to me…you told me you would never give children to a man you hated…you hate Tytos and I know you do. Just go back to sleep and pretend you never saw me…please Issa Darīa?’

She stared up at him for several seconds before standing and moving to his side, pointing to the right. ‘Last door on the left with his little whore. She’s given him 4 kids since we’ve been married and I would love to see all of them in the street when he’s dead…make it look like she did it.’ She instructed, leaning up and kissing his lips sweetly. ‘I would happily give you all of the babies you want from me…husband.’ Aemond’s eye widened at this revelation, honestly having been a bit worried she wouldn’t want his babies either.

‘I will see you in a weeks time and I will have everything planned for a quick wedding. No one but I will ever touch you again.’ Aemond kissed her once more before sneaking from the room and walking down the hall to the last door she indicated, finding Tytos and a sleeping women beside him. Placing his hand over the Lannisters mouth he watched as his eyes flew open. ‘You should have treated my Aunt with more respect-if you had I would have left her alone to be happy but here you are in bed with a whore. I would be honored if all she ever gave me was her perfect body and maybe if you had been content with that she wouldn’t have been drinking the moon tea all these years.’ The man’s eyes widened in shock and Aemond smirked. ‘No matter now. You’ll be dead, your whore will have done it, and your wife will see all of your bastards on the street. You should have been a better husband.’ Before he could even try and scream Aemond had driven the blade through his neck and watched him choke on the blood, wiping some of it into the woman’s hand to make it look like she had done it before leaving the room and sneaking back out of the castle, making his way home quickly and beginning to fix his chambers so that it would accommodate his wife as well.

News of his “Uncles” death reached them and none of them cared but Aemond who told his mother that Y/n would be remarrying him. She had refused at first but when he threatened to take Vhagar and burn the whole of Casterly Rock and everything the Lannisters have, she gave in.

He saw her again for the first time in the throne room. She walked in with her sister and nephews and right beside her was the Lannisters house sigil, a large lion that didn’t seem at all bothered by anyone around them. He had heard that the Lannister idiot had gifted his Aunt a male lion cub for their wedding (having seen it sleeping in her bed instead of her husband) and it seems that she had trained it quite well as it strolled beside her, not looking at anyone who jumped away from it, terrified. Every person who was brave enough to speak to her was growled at, though the lion did not lunge at anyone, only stepping forward when a man got too close.

As they stood across from their family Aemond moved forward, standing in front of Y/n and bowing, holding out his hand and taking hers, planting a kiss on it, all without her pet making a single sound. Though he was staring at Aemond intently.

‘I was very sorry to hear of your loss, Aunt Y/n.’

‘Sure you were…’ Jace mumbled under his breath.

‘Despite that, I am very happy to see you again. It has been too many years since I’ve set my eyes upon your lovely face.’ She blushed a dark pink shade and he was proud that he could make her feel like that.

‘Don’t you mean eye?’ This time it was Luke who mumbled and as Y/n kicked him in the ankle, the large beast beside her looked over and bore his fangs at Luke whose eyes went wide as he stepped back, the lion stepping closer before Y/n pet him softly, the rough looking fur making Aemond curious, only having seen these creatures in Lannisters cages (which is where she was meant to keep it but she raised it from a cub and the cub was entirely subservient to her, completely eager to please her).

‘His name is Aera. Would you like to touch him?’ She offered and Aemond looked up from the animal in surprise. ‘I don’t offer that to just anyone, keep that in mind.’ Aemond couldn’t help his smile as he nodded his head.

‘I would be honored.’ She took his hand into hers and pet Aera with her other hand before placing his hand onto the beasts head. He was right, the fur was rough and course but still somehow soft and softer still when she moved his hand under the lions chin to scratch him making the animal rumble out a happy noise. ‘He’s amazing. You’ll have to come out with me and meet Vhagar tonight. I promised you a flight-‘

‘I don’t think that would be appropriate actually brother. Y/n’s husband has just passed and a Targaryen princess her age with no children is…coveted to say the least. We are trying to find a new match for her and her being out alone with her Uncle would not help that matter.’ Rhaenyra explained and it made Aemond scoff.

‘And yet, you are not in charge of my lovely Aunts care, my mother is. We shall go flying tonight my love. You have my word.’ He promised making Y/n smile.

‘I look forward to it, Nephew.’ She stated, Aemond bowing once again before going back to his spot beside his sister.

It took several moments before the meeting started however just as Aemond had requested, his mother announced the proposal first. ‘Before we begin this meeting I must address the tragic passing of Tytos Lannister, husband of our own Y/n Targaryen. A Targaryen that has been left unmarried. It has come to my attention that my own son has agreed to take Y/n to wed, a wedding that will be held in 2 days time and I am sure you will all join me in wishing them the best of luck in marriage and for children.’ Many people were stunned, however none of them were family members, all of their family was seemingly expecting something like this.

‘Well, if this is the way of it then I believe it would be more appropriate that I stand with my betrothed.’ To say that Aemond was pleased would be an understatement-he was ecstatic. Finally, after all these years, he was finally getting the one thing everyone tried to convince him that he could never have.

Y/n moved to stand beside him, Aera moving with her and sitting between him and Helaena. While the inheritance was dealt with and Vaemond said his peace, Aemond watched as Y/n had knelt to the ground and stopped Jaehaerys and Jaehaera from touching Aera without her permission, instead having the lion lay down and allow the children to pet him, telling them never to go near him without permission but happily letting the twins pet Aera-who seemed quite content to be scratched as Y/n stood back up just as the King entered the throne room.

‘Are they safe?’ Aegon asked, looking down at his twins petting the large beast.

‘So long as they don’t poke his eyes or put their hands in his mouth, and of course I don’t tell him to attack them, then yes, they’re perfectly fine.’ She responded, allowing Aegon a sigh of peace.

‘If there is nothing more to be dealt with then this matter is closed-again!’ Viserys stated with great difficulty.

‘Actually Father, there is. Since my sister has been widowed it seems that the Queen has taken it upon herself to betroth Y/n with her son Aemond instead of to another house.’ Rhaenyra told him like a toddler tattling to their mother, the King looking to Alicent.

‘After all this time, the Princess has not brought forth any children of her own. My son is young, ready to have children and a younger man may make it more likely that she bear children. Aemond and Y/n have always been close, it just seemed to be the smartest decision husband.’ She explained to him and Viserys seemed to agree fairly quickly.

‘It does seem to make sense. We shall all be praying for grandchildren.’ With that the King was helped down the stairs and everyone was paying attention to him.

‘You will make a wonderful mother in a few months.’ Helaena stated quietly to her before ushering her twins out of the throne room and to their lessons.

‘She’s right you know. You will make a wonderful mother and I promise you to give you children as soon as I possibly can.’ Aemond swore, taking her arm and leading her from the room as well.

‘And I promise that I will never drink moon tea again.’

The both of them spent the next hour until dinner strolling around the castle and talking about their lives and what they want them to be here in the Keep.

‘Promise me one thing?’

‘Anything, my Love!’ Aemond swore, taking her hand in his as they walked into the dining hall and stepped towards the end of the table.

‘Promise me that should our daughters not have dragons that they will be trained to defend themselves-at least enough. I want to know that if I have daughters that they are safe…I know it isn’t normal but please, Aemond?’

Aemond considered this as he looked into the eyes of his betrothed and saw how much this meant to her. ‘Should you bless me enough in this world to give me little girls, I will train them myself. You have my word-dragons or not.’ Aemond watched as tears welled up in his brides eyes and she leaned closer to him, pulling him down to her height by his neck and kissing his lips sweetly.

‘Thank you Aemond.’

Dinner was eventful as was to be expected. Y/n at least tried to keep her betrothed from fighting her nephews but as Jace made a comment about how she would be a terrible mother when she has the kind of judgment that chooses Aemond as a husband, she was no longer willing to hold Aemond back-not that she could have anymore once he saw the tears in his brides eyes. Aemond lunged forward and took Jace to the ground, beating his face in until both Daemon and Criston Cole both got ahold of his arms and pulled him off of the idiot.

Y/n knew that her family wasn’t happy with her decision to marry Aemond but she decided that they would get over it in time-and time is what it took it seemed.

9 months after their wedding (technically 9 months after that horrible dinner) Aemond and Y/n welcomed their own set of twins into the world, 2 boys called Maelon and Maelor before having a daughter nearly a year later called Elaena. Elaena’s birth wasn’t an easy one like the twins was and after the scare that it gave him, Aemond forbid her from having any more children-instead he put a regiment in place where Maester Orwell brewed her moon tea every Sunday to ensure no more pregnancies. Many people disagreed with this and were adamant that a woman should have as many babies as possible however Aemond had broken more than one man’s face for saying such things in the presence of and Gods forbid actually saying to his wife!

Aemond and Y/n led a happy life from then on after removing themselves from the war, Aemond refusing to allow his family to use him and Vhagar as weapons-needing to stay with his wife and babies. They stayed on Dragonstone after that, Rhaenyra getting to use the idea of Vhagar being on their side as long as she kept her sons and step children away from Aemond.

After the quick war they lived out the rest of their lives with their children in the Keep, both Aemond and Y/n getting everything they wanted in the end-even if it took them a while to get there.

Aemond T. Masterlist

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getyouanearthygirl · 9 months ago

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Game of Thrones House Aesthetics:

House Stark 🐺

House Lannister 🦁

House Arryn 🪽

House Tyrell 🌹

House Martell ☀️

House Baratheon 🦌

House Tully 🐟

House Targaryen 🐉

House Greyjoy 🦑

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eraenaa · 1 month ago

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Impatient and Desperate

Aemond Targaryen x Clingy Lannister Reader

Synopsis: How you and your husband fare at court when both of you were constantly impatient and desperate for one another.

Warnings: Clingy/Spoiled Reader, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Oral Sex (f receiving), Mature, 18+, Semi-Public Relations, Slight Degradation, Aemond being a simp for his wife, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 6,207

A/N: (1) Based on a request sent by @serenity-ren-bliss, they wanted a reader who "loves being doted on." (2) I may or may not have been faded while I wrote this, so...

Prince Aemond was an overly impatient man. One could never know what would set him off and be the reason for his rage. His impatience knows no bounds. His sudden bouts of rage could come from him no longer being able to tolerate the cruel teases of his older brother, or it could be as simple as a courtier walking too slowly in front of him. Either way, whatever the circumstances may be, you would never want to be in the same room with the prince when his patience wears thin. However, as impatient as he was with everyone around him, that could not be said when you were in his presence. You, his loving wife, were the only person that could never wear out the One-Eyed Prince’s patience, no matter how hard you tried. And believe me, you’ve tried.

As a daughter of House Lannister, you were doted upon and spoiled by your lord father all your life. Whatever you wanted, it was given to you with haste. May it be new gowns, jewelry, or attention— all were handed to you with a smile. And you would take it gratefully, but a new request would already be leaving your lips.

That you were well loved was unquestionable. But whatever love and attention given to you never seemed to be enough. Growing up, you always needed constant affection and reassurance that those you loved loved you as well. You were clingy. Plain and simple. As a girl, you would always accompany your lord father wherever he went. Whether it was during meetings with lords, hunting in the woods, or even important business dealings in the capitol, you were always by his side. And your father had naught but a choice to take you for he could not bear his only daughter to be sad and doubtful of his affection.

You were seven when your father first brought you to Kingslanding. He was there on business and was to meet with his brother, Ser Tyland Lannister. You were not set to join your father. He had already been bribing you with new dresses, toys, and even a pet cat so you would be more open to the idea. However, with just a few pearl tears and a sniffle when your father tried to explain that you were not to come with him, the lord quickly conceded as he could not bear you in such a state.

Your first day in the Red Keep was also the first time you met Prince Aemond. He was a few years older than you, and when you first laid your eyes on him, what was most notable besides his silver hair and lack of another eye was the deep scowl on his face. You had no intention of approaching him, but your newly given pet cat that was by your side suddenly ran towards the scowling prince.

To say he was mean during your first encounter would be an understatement. He was the cruelest person you have ever met. This doesn’t really say much since you’ve never really encountered cruelty as all your life you were doted upon, but still, he was harsh and callous. He made you cry that day. You forget what exactly brought you to tears, but all you remember is picking your pet up in your arms and running back to your father to tell him about the mean prince you met in the gardens.

That was the first time Aemond had made anyone cry and the first time he genuinely felt sympathetic. Throughout your stay, you had avoided the prince, but Aemond had sought you out to undo your first encounter. And through that was how your relationship with Prince Aemond began and bloomed. You two would exchange letters when you were in Casterly Rock, and he would eagerly wait for business to bring your father back to the capitol, knowing that you would, of course, be accompanying him.

Throughout the years, what both of you believed to be just a friendship bloomed into more. It was during your fourteenth name day when you realized that perhaps there was more than friendship between you two, as he had snuck out of the Red Keep, disregarding his duty, and rode on dragon-back to Lannisport just to reach the feast to celebrate your birth. Needless to say, you were besotted with him and his gesture, not to mention the sapphire pendant he gifted, which made you completely enthralled and saw him in a new, love-struck gaze.

Aemond had never thought he could find patience as great as the patience he bestowed upon you. In truth, if he met another person alike yourself— spoiled, clingy, and in want of constant affection and attention, he would have struck that person down. But with you… he could not even bear to complain in his head because no one would be in that want of his attention and affection. It was only you, and you were the only one for him.

He patiently waited and courted you for three years before he finally gained your father’s approval. He was reluctant to give your hand away to anyone less deserving. You, his daughter, had many extingencies, and he feared that the men that vied for your hand could never measure up in the way you brought up, doted upon, and spoiled out of your wits. He could not stomach the thought that your husband would not be able to do the same.

But Prince Aemond proved himself tenfold. He would often send you gifts that were certainly not cheap and would have cost the crown a pretty penny, and the prince would venture to Casterly Rock at a moment’s notice just because you called for him. You often did that, always wanting Prince Aemond to be in your presence, and he never grew tired of journeying endlessly just to see you and make you happy. Your father was, of course, impressed, and in time, as he realized this treatment of the prince was not just for show or to gain further your favor, he approved of the marriage.

Your two were married in the Red Keep with haste— just as soon as the grand wedding you had always dreamed of was delivered. It was two moons of preparations, and as always, Aemond was growing impatient. “Must it truly be that grand?” He asked as he sat with you in the gardens, your hand in between both of his and your pet cat seated on your lap. “Yes. Father had already paid for all of the decorations and the feast! It’ll be a shame to waste it,” You say, your other hand twiddling with the flower your betrothed picked for you just moments before.

“But—“ Aemond paused and pursed his lips as the incessant noise of children playing and running along the gardens were proving to be a great nuisance to him. You watched as your betrothed’s soft gaze that was only reserved for you turned harsh as he turned to the group of children and did not hesitate to chastise them. You watched in concern as they rushed out of the gardens, running away from the prince, and you would wager that a tear or two were shed from the innocent, wide eyes of the children.

“Aemond,” You called, feeling a tad guilty as the childish, glee-filled giggles ceased. “They were a nuisance; I can barely hear you, my heart.” He muttered and took a strand of your hair in between his fingers to twirl and distract him. “But they are children— their noise is understandable… what are you to do if it were our children?” You question and glance behind you as you hear footsteps. Some courtiers were venturing towards the gardens to have a breath of fresh air, but as they saw the prince and his steely gaze, they quickly turned around and let the two of you be.

“Believe me, my heart, our children would not be as insufferable as them.” Aemond scoffed, and you shook your head. “My love, you’re scaring them.” You sighed, but a smirk came to the prince’s lips. “Good.” He muttered and leaned forward to plant a kiss on your lips, taking advantage of the absence of passersby to have a taste of your lips.

“Not here, my love… someone could see us,” You say consciously, a pretty blush coming to your cheeks and your eyes wide in scandal, but that only served your betrothed to be further amused. He let out a breath, his hand reaching for your cheek to feel the softness and warmness of your skin. “Gods, what have I done to deserve such a beautiful betrothed,” Aemond complimented, biting back a smirk as he knew all too well how to make you yield. Just an ounce more of his attention and perhaps a compliment or two, and you’ll be putty in his hands. Having you unable to deny any requests that came from Aemond.

He watched you further reddened at his words, and Aemond took advantage of the moment and sealed your lips with a kiss, one that you did not deny him off as your heart and mind were muddled by the words he uttered.

In truth, it should concern him how easy you were to yield to words and mere attention. It took him years to come to terms with the fact that there might be some bastard out there who was more determined than he was and would steal you away from him, and you would leave Aemond heartbroken. Jealousy is a lesser and pitiful emotion, but he could not help but feel as such as men were determined to shower you with affection and attention the minute Aemond was not by your side. He knew that your father believed that the reason he would often venture to Catserly Rock was because you called for him. That was true, but another agenda was to scare off the other men that always seem to flock and line up before you.

Luckily, he slowly started to realize that even if you were quick to yield to words and attention, you only did it for him. The moment he confessed his love and devotion to you, you no longer entertained your wall of suitors. No spare glance was given, any gift bestowed was returned, and all your attention was placed on Aemond, just as he had preferred it.

When the day of your wedding came, Aemond was restless in excitement. Finally, after waiting for years to have you, when the sun set that day, you would be forever bound to him by the eyes and laws of gods and men.

Your excitement, on the other hand, was being dampened by your father, who had been questioning you throughout the whole day. “Are you truly certain, my darling? I… Disregard the feast and the preparations made. If you have any reservations, you must tell me immediately. I can handle any contempt if—“ You sighed heavily, a smile gracing your face as you stepped closer to your father, who was responsible for how you were. He was the one to spoil and indulge you ever since you were born, and you understood that he only wished to make certain that you will not be married off to a man who would have no plans to continue that lavishness and customs you were raised in.

“Father, I am certain. I love him. And I had hoped that throughout the years, he has proven himself worthy.” You say softly, taking hold of your father’s hand. Lord Lannister sighed. Of course, the prince had proven himself worthy. It was only just that the lord had now come to realize that you will no longer be under his care. He had trouble grasping the concept that you would no longer reside in Casterly Rock but instead live in Kingslanding and bear the name Targaryen.

“Father, as you know, my dear husband-to-be is quite impatient and sometimes irrational… but Aemond waited for me. He courted me for three years just because you would not let us marry any sooner. I do not hold that against you, father. In truth, I greatly appreciate it because it made me see that he truly does love me. And for that, I am certain that he is the one I wish to marry.” You said softly, trying hard to convince your father of this union. They often say that the day of a wedding could cause doubts and cold feet; you just expected it to come from you or Aemond, not your father.

“Very well. But you must tell me or your uncle immediately the moment the prince treats you any less than what you deserve.” He said, and you nodded with a beaming smile, linking your arms as the ceremonies were to take place and your father was to walk you down the aisle.

“You look enchanting, my heart.” Aemond lowly whispered as you sat next to him at the feast to celebrate your union. “Thank you, husband,” You say with a wide smile, watching as Aemond’s lilac eye grow darker as you called him by his new title. “Say that again,” He said darkly, the pressing need he had for you only growing, and he feared he could truly no longer restrain himself.

He had desired to have all of you for years. To taste and feel every inch of you, but he had hindered himself. Though both of you knew that in the end, you two would be husband and wife, and the wedding was only a formality, Aemond still placed control upon himself from claiming every part of you. Though you, his little wife, was a flirt. Who often indulges him with teases and suggestive notions, you were still a lady who had guarded her virtue until her marriage. There was nothing shared but chaste and secret kisses between you two, and neither of you could wait any longer to discover the pleasures that marriage life had to offer.

“Say what again, husband?” You teased and smirked, but it was quickly wiped off as your husband quickly stood and whisked you out of the hall for the bedding ceremony to begin. A ceremony that rang through the halls as your cries of pleasure could be heard from the highest tower of the keep and into the lowlies of dungeons. Safe to say that no one debated your union afterwords for a dragon had found a lion to be its life long companion.

“Where are you going?” You mewled as you felt your husband release his hold on you and leave your warm, marital bed. The two of you had been married for more than two years now, but you still acted as if your ceremonies were made just yesterday. You were always eager to be by your husband’s side.

“I have a meeting with the small council, my heart. Go back to sleep… I shall return again when you wake so we can break our fast together.” Aemond murmured, sitting by the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through your hair as an effort to lull you back to sleep because he could not grow distracted by your insistence of him staying because he knew all too well that he would yield at your request.

“But that is not until first light… the sun has not even replaced the moon. Come now, my love, do not leave your wife.” You yawned as you tugged at your husband’s arm, missing the feeling of his frame against yours.

“I still have to train,” Aemond reasoned, trying not to cave in even though your voice and insistence pulled him in. “You could train later… and I could watch and cheer you on. Please, my love, come back to bed.” You say, further peeling your eyes open to plead with your husband. You knew he would give in. He still hadn’t placed his eye-patch, and that often signified that he was not yet ready to start his day. There was still room for you to convince him not to leave the warmth and comfort of your marital bed and your arms.

“Aemond, come now, my love. You would not want to upset your beloved wife so early in the morning, do you?” You asked, a sly threat on your lips. Though you were quite clingy and dependent on your husband, there were times that you prospered when he was not in your presence. It had only happened thrice where you and Aemond grew cross with one another, and Aemond, a man who never apologizes, who never surrenders, would always be the first to yield and amend things even if your disagreement was not his fault. An excellent fleet of his patience.

He could not bear it when you were cross with him. He could not stomach to see you be out of his reach. He always wondered how you could be so indifferent and avoidant during arguments when usually you were stuck permanently by his side. It was as if you were not yourself. And Aemond could not bear it to see you place your attention on other people whilst ignoring him. Somehow, you had turned his aloof and stoic demeanor to one that mirrored your needy and dependent self.

Aemond sighed and cupped your cheek. “Very well, but soon as the first cock crows, I must leave.” He said and waited for your agreement, but you were reluctant to give it. “Why can't you just skip today’s meeting? You are overworking yourself— you have barely any time for yourself— let alone me.” You pouted, and Aemond let out an amused breath and placed a chaste kiss on your pouted lips. “I am their king, my light. I must be there to oversee the happenings in the kingdom.” Aemond said in amusement.

Aye, Aemond was now king, and his way to the throne was paved by bloodshed and war. Just a few moons after your marriage, King Viserys was taken by his multitude of maladies, and a war for the Iron Throne broke out. Those were the darkest of days, and neither you nor Aemond wished to recall them anymore because that was the most trying time of your marriage.

You nearly went crazed when you woke up one day to a cold, empty bed and a pathetic letter from your husband saying that he had to fight in the Riverlands. Aemond knew it was cowardly to leave and sneak out in the dead of night instead of explaining to you the magnitude and urgency of the situation. But he could not do it because he knew you would put up a fight and insist that he bring you along. Aemond could not make any such risks.

You had only gone one day without your husband by your side before you too sneaked out of the castle with your guards who you had generously bribed and rode to Harrenhal. To say that Aemond was furious was an understatement. He, however, could not help but feel touched and endeared as you had once again proven to him how desperate you were to be by his side. And ever since then, the longest time apart between you and your husband ever since marriage was just a mere three days. You were still bitter about that fact, and Aemond could only happily try and stir your mind away from that unfortunate occurrence.

“Do you love me?” You suddenly questioned as Aemond was still only sitting on the edge of your bed instead of lying down next to you with his arms wrapped tightly around your frame. “My heart, what a question. I love you more than anything in this world. You were the reason I came to understand what love meant.” Aemond answered, leaning closer to you as he tried to smooth away the furrow between your brows.

“Very well then. If you love me, why are you so insistent on leaving our bed and my presence?” You asked, and Aemond paused for a moment before a smile broke on his lips at your expecting, frowning face. “Oh, my heart.” Was all Aemond could say before conceding and laying his head next to yours. You were quick to invade his space, practically sprawling yourself atop his frame and making him wrap his arms around you. “You’re quite needy, you know that, yes?” Aemond questioned as he once again ran his fingers through your hair. You were practically purring as he continued to do such actions. “I know. But I as well know that that is what made you love me.” You smiled slyly and burrowed your head on his chest to smell him further because his scent always managed to bring you calm.

Aemond sighed in marital bliss and placed a lingering kiss atop your head as you began to slowly drift into slumber in his arms. He turned to the balcony of your chambers as dawn was approaching, and he would have to leave you to oversee his duties. He savored each moment that he had you in his arms because he knew it would be long, torterous hours before he’d be in your presence again.

When the first cock crowed, Aemond let out a grevious sigh as he tried to stir you to your side of the bed but you, of course, resisted. “No.” You muttered in your deep sleep. “Please, my heart. Must we do this each and every morning?” Aemond questioned, exercising his patience with you. “That is precisely the point. We do this every morning, and you leave me every morning. Why can it not be my turn? Why can’t you just stay?” You asked and waited for your husband’s answer, but he only peppered kisses on your face, an effort to distract you. It did.

“Go back to sleep, and I promise that when you wake up, we shall break our fast together,” Aemond whispered and quickly kissed your lips to muddle your mind, and all you could do was nod. Aemond placed a kiss on your lips again, a kiss that further made you lightheaded by with how his tongue would tease yours and how your husband’s hand would linger ever so lightly on your bosom.

You barely had time to process it before Aemond pulled away and quickly dressed while you were still intoxicated by your kiss so he could slip out of your chambers without any more qualms leaving your plush lips. When you hear the door shut lightly, your trance dissolves, and you huff in frustration before curling up in your bed once more and waiting for your husband to return.

Aemond hurried through the halls of the castle to reach you in the garden before your patience wears thin. He had dismissed the small council for the morning and decided that they shall meet once again that afternoon when you were usually distracted by court. “You’re late. The food and tea had grown cold.” You said as you feel your husband's presence.

Aemond sighed heavily and moved to kiss you, but you moved away in annoyance. “You should have eaten earlier, my heart,” Aemond said and sat across from you. He hurriedly placed items of various colorful dishes on your plate, but you could only glower at your husband. He had made you wait a whole half hour before joining you in the gardens!

“I have no appetite.” You gritted, and Aemond pursed his lips as he made your tea to your liking, the liquid now tepid and would not be appealing to consume. “Apoligies, my heart. It is just the small council—“ You rolled your eyes as whatever reason he offered from one ear and out the other. Aemond narrowed his eye as he watched you roll your eyes at him. He must admit, now he was growing annoyed as well.

“You’re acting quite spoiled. I have already apologized; it was beyond my control.” Aemond muttered under his breath as a rare occurrence of his patience of you wore thin. However, Aemond quickly regretted his words as he saw your eye twitch in annoyance, and you quickly stood. “Let us go, Ser Adam.” You say coldly, now greatly frustrated at your husband because not only did he neglect you that morning, he had also offended you.

Aemond called for you as he watched your departing form with your knight. He sighed heavily and shook his head as he saw you walk closer to your knight as the both of you disappeared from the gardens, a pang of jealousy coursing through him.

The moment Aemond was made king, he assigned to you the most capable and skilled knight in the kingdom. He, unfortunately, was also the most comely knight at their disposal, making unfavorable emotions arise in Aemond. It was bad enough that the knight was constantly by your side, assisting you throughout the day, and his job being quite literally placing all his attention towards you— and for him to be comely and agreeable? That was simply adding insult to injury. It was safe to say that your closeness with your knight was the biggest threat Aemond could think of. Even greater than the actual threats that come with him having the conqueror’s crown upon his brow.

Because of the unfortunate occurrences during the morning, Aemond was distracted by the thought of you the entire day. Aemond had only begun the second session of the small council before he abruptly ended it after just two measly matters. He was wrapped in jealousy, uncertainty, and guilt, as he could not even bear for you to be out of sorts for just a few moments.

He walked through the halls of the keep once more, knowing at this hour you would be with the majority of the court to watch the jesters perform. He saw you in the great hall gathered with your ladies, made and gleefully laughing at the performance. Aemond stood by the door for a moment, admiring the way your eyes would crinkle and how a smile beamed on your lips. However, as he saw you leaning closer to your knight who stood by your side and motioned for him to lower so you could whisper something in his ear, Aemond was quick to grow enraged, especially as a smirk found its way to your knight’s lips.

Aemond quickly made his way to his proper place, which was by your side. The courtiers were surprised to see the presence of their dutiful king but still gave him respect. You sighed as the entertainment you watched ceased, and the court jesters bowed to their king. You did not even give your husband a sparing glance as you were still quite hurt at what he had called you earlier.

Aemond took his seat next to you as the performance began once more. He could feel you ever so slyly move away, and that frustrated him further. “Let go of me.” You said quietly as your husband had enough of your antics and simply just moved you to make him sit on his lap. He was quite swift that you had no time to react or possibly forsee his actions. “But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Us in each other’s company. I am simply giving you what you wish for— like always.” Aemond said, without a care with how the court were no longer watching the performance but rather eyed their king and queen. “We are before other people.” You gritted as you once again stirred on his lap, mortified as you were never one for public displays of affection, which Aemond found curious because when behind closed doors, not a whole army could pry you off him.

“I do not care.” He whispered in your ear, and you placed a tight smile on your lips as you realized that the court was starting to take notice of your reluctance to be in your husband’s presence. Heaven forbid they start to whisper about your marriage. You huffed and had naught a choice but to rest on your husband’s lap until the performance ended.

“You smell quite lovely, little wife… is that the perfume I gifted you on your seventeenth name day?” Aemond murmured against your skin, his nose nuzzled in your neck as you tried your best efforts to ignore him. Aemond smirked and placed light kisses on your neck as he knew that just the right touch or the correct compliment would have you melting in his hands.

You stayed silent, trying to remember the offense your husband had just committed moments earlier. However, it was growing harder to remind yourself as his kisses on your skin burned you with desire and his hold on your waist was inching higher towards your bossom, your peaks already hardening with just the thought of his cold, calloused hands growing near.

“You are aware that it is treason to ignore your king, my heart,” Aemond whispered and nipped the lobe of your neck, the court’s gaze no longer upon you two as just one glare from their king had made them quickly focus all their attention on the jesters and leave you two be.

“How can I be ignoring the king when I am quite literally on his lap?” You gritted and once again struggled to get out of his hold. You, however, froze a deep, silent groan left Aemond’s lips, a sound that was for your ears only. “Why had you ceased? You were burrowing into me so perfectly, my heart.” Your cheeks bloomed with color as you felt his desire poking against your bum.

“Have you no restraint, husband?” You asked, half in mortification and half with desire. “None when it comes to you, my heart. I would think you would have known that by now.” Aemond smriked as he saw how gooseflesh rose to your skin as his breath fanned your neck. “Aemond,” You gritted, taking a firm hold on his hand that was wrapped around your waist.

Your breathing starts to heave, and your heart starts stuttering. “Just say the word, dear wife. And I shall whisk you off to our chambers. Or perhaps… make them all disappear so I could hear your cries of pleasure echo around these great halls.”

“Say what you wish for, my heart and I shall always give it to you,” Aemond swore, and at his words, your eyes practically rolled back as just his voice was able to place damp between your thighs. “Make them go away,” You whispered, and Aemond smirked as he quickly barked the orders for everyone to leave you two and no one should enter the halls until he says otherwise.

When the doors shut, you wasted no time in turning around to straddle your husband and smash both of your lips together. You ground your hips against his in a futile attempt to find friction, but whatever you feel through both of your clothed bodies is not enough. “This does not mean you are forgiven,” You moaned as Aemond sucked on teh sensitive part of your neck as his fingers moved to undo the ribbons of your bodice.

“Whatever you say, my heart,” Aemond panted and quickly sought your lips as he could not have enough of the taste of you. “Oh gods— take it off already!” You said in frustration as Aemond fiddled with your gown, not fully taking it off, but you were already so desperate to feel his touch upon your skin. “So impatient you are, my heart,” Aemond hummed in tea, knowing full well that his own impatience had rubbed off on you, just as how your clingyness had rubbed off on him.

You did not respond but only smashed your lips together once more and successfully removed his leather dublet. Your hands caressed his smooth, chiseled chest, your touch teasingly going lower, making your husband growl against your lips and him playfully nipping your lower lip.

You were finally rid of your dress as Aemond made you stand just for you to take his place on his seat. You sat comfortably as Aemond stood before you, taking off his trousers. Your finger went to your lips as you bit your nails when a wicked thought of spreading your legs crossed your mind, and you quickly decided to do it. Aemond breathed heavily as you displayed for him your pretty cunny. Glistening and calling for his sole, undivided attention.

“What do you want, my wife? Word it out already so I may give it to you,” Aemond said, on the verge of begging for you to let him taste your cunt. “I want you to kneel.” You whispered. “Kneel before your queen and feast on her cunt like a man starve and until there are tears streaming down her face.” You stated, settling further in your seat as a new wave of desire overtook you when you saw the way your husband’s lilac eye darkened.

Aemond was quick to oblige your order and kneeled before you and burrowed his face into your cunt. He was lapping at your folds, the vulgar noises echoing into teh room and your moans only accompanied them as he sucked so heavenly at the pearl of your cunt.

“Gods— you do that so well, Aemond.” You moaned, gripping at his hair to feel more of him. Your eyes rolled back and a wonton sound left your lips as his tongue darted in and out of your whole and teh bridge of his nose burrowed at your nubbin.

Aemond smirked at the sound of your moans and the feel of your thighs wrapped around him. You were quick to come undone, and your husband could only greedily lick your essence, wasting not a drop of you. “Still as sweet as ever, my heart.” He murmered as his lips retruend to your skin and trailed upwards your body to take one of your heaving tits into the hot cavern of his mouth, toungue teasing the taut bud until teeth placed a quick nibble on the sensitive skin.

Aemond took your still dazed body into his arms as he once again switched places and made you return to straddle him. Even through your haze, you had no trouble in sinking down his cock that slipped easily between your folds.

Aemond let out a deep, sensual humm of approval as he felt your walls clench around him and the tip of his cock made contact with the spot in your cunt that made you see stars as well as make you a dazed, moaning, cock drunk mess.

“Gods look at you— I might have married a whore by how well you bounce on my cock.” Aemond gritted as he placed his hand in between you two so his fingers could pay attention to your cunt’s pearl.

You could only moan a response, focusing on chasing your next high even if you had not truly recovered from the previous one. “Ae… Aemond—“ You called, panting, and your husband already knew what you meant to say. He quickly dipped his head to place a lasting nip on your tit before switching your positions for a third time as you could never really stay on top for long. It was too tiring and, quite frankly, distracting as you tried to search for your release.

Luckily, your husband had no problem in doing most of the laborous work whilst you just layed before him and watched through lust fille eyes as he pounded into you so hard that it made your tits bounce so delictably for him.

Aemond thrusted and thrusted upon your cunny, watching as how you gripped him so well. He caught the way as your hands found home on your breasts as you palmed the mounds to find further pleasure and to stable yourself as the orgasm you were chasing was quickly arriving, ready to wash over you and turn you into a blushing, mess of a whore for your husband; just as he often likes to remind you.

“Aw, does my little wife wish to come? Is that you want, my heart?” Aemond taunted as he himself was close to his release, and you desperately nodded before him, unable to form words as you were completely overwhelmed. “Words, sweetheart, words. Just say it, and it shall be yours.”

You moaned and tried your best to take hold of your mind and control your tongue. “Yes! I— I want you to make me come— husband— please,” You all but yelled and with just a deep, stroke of his cock, you came undone with a loud moan that all the eavsdropper outside the hall heard.

They could only blush and turn to the ground as it had been a reoccurring occurrence that their king and queen would be spontaneously get caught in the midst of passion anywhere, everywhere, and anytime, everytime in the walls of the Red Keep. But who could blame either of you, for everyone in the kingdom could see plainly that their queen and king were both quite impatient and desperate for one another.

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