#Kitten Aemond | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

endless-ineffabilities · 3 months ago

Text

Diet Pepsi (18+)

A modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader smutshot

When we drive in your car, I'm your baby So sweet Losing all my innocence in the backseat

a/n : how do I explain this? I suppose the song Diet Pepsi got stuck in my head, and when I watched the music video, the only male lead I could envision in that sorta situation is our Aemond/Ewan. So here ya go! Reading time... depends on what you get into 😉💋

masterlist

themes/warnings : pure smut, filthy actions and filthy language, complete disregard for sports car interiors, old money boyfriend Aemond x bratty internet starlet girlfriend reader, sticky surfaces, foggy windows, wayward fingers, sliding tongues, and YES YES YES

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

Your boyfriend glances at you from the corner of his eye, barely, his attention remaining on the road. But his veiny hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh, fully exposed beneath the scrap of pale pink fabric that you try to pass off as a miniskirt.

Mission accomplished. After only a few minutes of pretending to stew while looking out the window, he is quick to sense that something is amiss with his kitten.

"Nothing," you respond in the best downcast tone you can manage, fighting the urge to clench your thighs to trap his thick fingers in the warmth between.

"Come on now," he clicks his tongue, "don't play around."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You've barely looked at me since you got in the fucking car." Poor baby. You're getting to him, as planned.

Time to rile him up in a way that only you can. "Do you think Maris is pretty?"

He scoffs, "Don't start, kitten."

"So you do," you egg him on. "I knew it. You were looking at her tits earlier. I bet you loved it when that skank bent over in front of you. Gave you a good view."

"Kitten, please," his grip on your flesh tightens, trying to get you stop. "You're being ridiculous."

"And you didn't answer my question, Aemond," you snap back, grabbing his hand and prying it from your leg.

"Fuck's sake," he groans. He then rests both his hands on the steering wheel, at the standard 10 and 2, grasping onto it so roughly that the leather squeaks.

You called him Aemond. Not babe. Not handsome. You must be pissed, for some imagined reason, and he simply does not have the time.

Impatient, he goes off on a tirade, "You've asked me this shit before, babe, and my answer remains the same. I don't care about any other girl. You're the only one that I want, that I will ever want."

Licking your lips, and looking slyly at him behind your done-up eyelashes, you say, "You could've fooled me." He raises his brow at your childishness, muscles flexing under his tight white shirt as he makes a sharp turn. You continue, "I know what I saw. You want her, is that it? Is it because she's got status like you?"

"You have status," he corrects you, "The whole damn country practically knows your name."

"But it's not the same," you moan. "I didn't come from money. My blood isn't blue."

He sighs audibly, "We talked about this. None of that fucking matters, kitten. Especially not to me."

You cross your legs, leaning against the car door as if to inch away from him, your devilishly handsome silver-haired aristocratic boyfriend. The very one you're so keen on tormenting now. "You don't know how I feel."

But he does. You've long since lost track of the countless times you've been blindsided by an uncharacteristic wave of self-doubt. You, infamous for being one of the bubbliest and most outgoing personalities on the internet, your lifestyle guides and fashion spreads a mainstay on every social media platform.

But ever since you started dating Aemond, you can't help but feel unworthy sometimes. He is Aemond Targaryen after all, a glowing young heir to one of the most powerful families in the country, his lineage extending back to the great Valyrian empire.

Old money, as they say. That was his life, but before him, you thought old money was just some fashion trend that dominated your Pinterest boards.

You met at a charity gala for the Hightower Foundation. Unaware of who he was, he was simply a hot guy you set your sights on, and you managed to get his attention by accidentally spilling your espresso martini down his crisp tailored shirt.

Women were not usually that forward when approaching him, especially not those who ran in the same circles as him, like the Baratheon sisters or the Tyrell heiress. But you were different. You were simply, unabashedly yourself. Your biggest asset was you - your personality, your style, your genuine warmth that allows you to build connections with anyone in the industry - you didn't walk into a room with the snootiness and entitlement of a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

The chemistry was instant, overriding any superficial issues that may arise from someone like him getting with someone like you. Which is why you snuck out of the gala together, and fucked each other senseless in the backseat of his car, sweaty and giggling and whispering sweet nothings like you were already long-time lovers back then.

As you are now, nearly two years later. Aemond's love for you has only grown a thousand fold, and he shows this every day.

The car idles at a stop sign. He reaches for your face and implores, "Kitten, look at me, please."

"No," you impetuously say, making him drop his hand.

"Baby, come on."

"Don't feel like it, Aemond."

The light turns green. The car zooms past houses and open fields. Shops and smaller, unknown places of business. They all come together in a blur. The tension is at an all-time high in the car, just as you intended.

He makes several maneuvers, and the scenery outside begins to look unfamiliar to you. The street you enter next is particularly quiet, almost empty, all the shops closed for the day or boarded up. It's likely on the outskirts of King's Landing, far from the Targaryen estate in its central area of Red Keep.

"You still gonna be a brat?" he asks lowly.

You smirk, "Don't call me a fucking brat."

"Have it your way, kitten," he says, and it sounds like a promise. The car pulls up to a vacant parking lot behind an old restaurant, the surrounding area covered by a thin tree line. There is no one, and nothing in sight.

He leans back, and takes a few deep breaths.

"You've been a bad girl, my kitten."

"Have I?" you bite your lip, no longer fighting the urge to clench your thighs. The miniskirt rides up higher, and his eyes become drawn to the sight, his cock hardening underneath his blue jeans.

He hums, leaning over and grabbing your jaw towards him with one hand, "Yeah, bringing shit up like that. Like I would ever look at anyone besides you."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Want me to fucking mention the time you actually flirted with the Stark boy in front of me?"

"I wasn't - "

"Shut up, kitten," he spits. "I'm not dumb."

His voice dips low, and you feel your cunny growing wet and slick. Gods, he is so hot like this. Assertive yet downright sensual. He only wants one thing, and you will surrender it to him in a heartbeat.

"What you gonna do 'bout it, handsome?" You lick your gloss-covered lips and you are caught off guard when he pushes his thumb inside and orders, "Suck."

You obey. His pupil significantly dilates in one eye, while the sapphire fixture in the other glints beautifully. He looks regal, and he's all yours.

"That's right," he breathes, his vision clouding over in lust as he feels the pad of your tongue, "fucking minx. Always so insolent, huh?"

"Mhmmm." When tears blur the corners of your eyes, he takes his hand and sucks right where you did. Then he pulls you in roughly, kissing you with everything in him, the lewdest grunts of pleasure escaping him when you push your tongue past his teeth.

"Come... come 'ere," he places you on top of himself, straddling him in the driver's seat, the lace of your underwear rubbing against his denim. "Gods, this fucking skirt." He pokes at it, lips curling. "You torture me, darlin'. Now you gotta make up for it."

You jut your bottom lip out, dragging your bright pink fingernails across his cheek. His mouth parts at the sight of his pretty little kitten practically begging for it.

"Is that so, handsome? Why don't you make me?"

He anchors his fingers in the thin bands of your underwear and in a sure and decisive flash of movement, he rips the material apart. He throws it over his shoulder, and it lands in the backseat, among the littered lollipop and bubblegum wrappers you leave behind. He loves it when you suck on that hard candy shell in front of him. It's partially the reason why your penchant for sweet treats has gotten worse.

Your pussy is exposed to the cool draft coming from the AC of his car, and it's a good and familiar sensation. He fondles your clit, little slow circles, making you whimper. He presses on, eager to unwrap his kitten like a piece of candy to be devoured. The zip of your miniscule skirt slides down, and your bare ass and cunny is revealed to him.

"Gods fucking damn, kitten," he rasps, then slowly buries three whole fingers into your slickness, spreading your folds, pumping in and out.

"Aghhhh, baby," erupts from your glossy mouth, breath hitching as he picks up the pace. In and out. Out and in.

His face appears almost sinister, clouded over in lust, his bottom lip trapped under bunny teeth, but then he whispers, "I love you, kitten. I love you so fucking much," and you see him as your Aemond. He's offering more than just his body - to you, he has already surrendered his heart and soul.

"I love you too, baby," you respond in as firm of a voice as you can manage, made even more difficult when he probes that sweet spot inside your sopping cunt.

You leak onto his fingers, droplets of your milky white substance beginning to pool in his palm.

"Ask me again," he snarls, shapely lips pulling back to reveal his sharp teeth.

"Wh-what?" you reply in a daze.

"That stupid question," he says. His pace doesn't slow; if he keeps up, you just might forget how to speak, save for incoherent noises that make his cock twitch.

"You'd rather be... b' with... a fancy heiress," you try, pausing when he pinches your hardened nipple over your crop top with his other hand. "Maris... Baratheon... or Floris... or - "

"Look at me, princess," he says, "You feel that? You feel me? There's your fucking answer."

"Not enough," you shake your head feebly, keeping up the ruse. Judging by the buldge he sports, he's into it too.

Smirking, he pulls his glistening fingers out of you, and helps you out of your crop top. He chucks the material somewhere, before ducking his head and nipping at the mounds of your breasts.

"Unnnghhh," you hear him, muffled by your flesh. He undoes your lace bra and sucks wildly. You cradle his head with both hands, keeping him pressed against your tits. His tongue flickers out to taste your skin, and he angles his face so that your eyes meet when he takes a nipple in his mouth.

"Shit, baby," you whimper, heating up all over from the sheer intimacy of it all.

His mouth lets you go with a resounding pop, and he tilts his head toward the backseat, hands gripping your hips to guide you. He follows suit, removing his white shirt in the process, as well as his jeans, shimmying them off his legs as he scrambles after you.

He smacks your ass with an open palm as it is raised in front of him in full view, the sharp sting of it only making you grow wetter.

You shuffle onto your hands and knees, looking back to see him already in position. His fine Valyrian steel chain dangles from his neck, the one thing still on his person. His boxers are also discarded, and his length is fully erect, slapping his stomach when he leans over to hastily cover your mouth with his. Your tongues battle for dominance, drool dripping down your chins. You feel a strain in your neck from twisting back to accommodate his kiss, but you don't care.

You feel it poking at your backside, feel him, his cock all slippery from hot precum dribbling down the sides.

He rocks back, hands digging into the soft flesh of your ass, keeping you in the prime position for him to take.

In a swift movement that nearly drives you insane, he twists downward until his face is level with your opening, and he buries his tongue in your soaking pussy. You know he likes it rough, so do you, and this is his way of getting you ready.

"Fuuckkk," you collapse forward, the side of your face colliding with the smooth leather seat. He twirls his tongue around, and you swear you can see stars.

You must have blacked out for a split second, delirious from the high only he can give you, because a moment later you feel his tip edging itself slowly into your cunt.

"Ready, baby?" he asks.

"Fuck me," is your strained plea.

His cock stretches you out, inch by inch, your slicked walls straining against his sheer size. A whining noise leaves you, music to Aemond's ears, and when he's fully sheathed, he exhales, "So pretty. Such a good little slut for me, kitten." That sends you over the edge.

You move forward slightly, then back again, your ass slamming right into his pelvis. He gets the message, smart boy that he is.

With an animalistic growl, he proceeds to frantically buck his hips into you, his huge cock just about splitting you open. He slaps your ass as he goes, making you tremble.

Each thrust sends shockwaves throughout your body, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Your dripping cunt begins to feel that familiar ache, your lower belly spasming from his ceaseless thrusts. Your knees threaten to buckle, and if they do, you imagine that his firm throbbing shaft will be enough to keep you propped up.

"Aemond... baby... " your moans echo in the car, joined by his, "Yes... yes, kitten... so fucking good, taking me like this... pussy so sweet for me... "

The filthiest of words spill from the two of you like prayers from the damned, just begging to be answered. And seven hells, with the way Aemond makes you feel like you're floating amongst the skies, he just might be your salvation.

He does not relent, intent on rearranging your insides with how deep he buries his cock inside of you. You don't want him to stop. You never do.

You have to hold onto something to keep steady, to keep from utterly flopping down in a mindless haze. Your palms reach for the fogged up windows, and Aemond angles your bodies so that you're half-seated atop his thighs. He grabs hold of your breasts as leverage, squeezing them as your leaking cunt squeezes his cock.

The angle allows him to fill you better, and that heated coil unfurls in your belly, a signal that you are about to reach your peak.

He draws forward, pressing his mouth to the back of your neck, licking your sweat with reckless abandon.

"Baby," he moans, "I'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... "

"Oh, yeah?" you answer in a high-pitched, wanton manner.

"Yeah," he breathes.

"You promise?"

He chuckles, and you feel the sound reverberating as your back is pressed to his chest.

"My sweet kitten," he purrs.

"I'm getting close, baby," you let him know, and he takes it as his cue to pound his cock inside faster. His lips are pressed to your ear, arms wrapped around your torso possessively.

He lets himself go, decorating your insides white with his Targaryen seed. You glance down and see it spilling out of your cunt, milky rivulets staining the once-pristine leather seat. His cock convulses in your pussy, waves of his release pulsing like fragmented aftershocks. It hits the right spot, bringing you to that little death, your walls contracting from the dizzying pleasure he gives you.

With that stupid and blissed-out smile on your face, you lean back, collapsing on top of him. You soon find yourselves curled together on the backseat, a mess of sweaty and satisfied limbs.

His silver hair is matted against his forehead, and you reach up and brush them away. He catches your hand and presses a loving kiss to the back of it.

He props his head up on one arm, as you draw lazy circles on the firm planes of his chest. You whisper sweet nothings to each other, as you had on the night you met.

"You should rile me up more often, you little brat," he smirks crookedly.

You roll your eyes, but peck his lips anyway with a cheeky smack, "Isn't that all I do, baby?"

"Sure, kitten," he says, "and I fucking love you for it."

"Oh, baby," you purr, and your wayward fingers reach down to stroke his half-erect cock. His brows raise in amusement, but it only takes several good pumps before his shaft is again taut from your touch. You whisper, "I love you too."

And so the second round begins.

Taglists (refer here to be added)

Vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @9431789 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

P.S. eagle-eyed readers can probably spot the nod to chemical override ;)

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #hotd #ewan mitchell x reader #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond targaryen

849 notes · View notes

lizzyiii · 23 days ago

Note

hey, so ur works are literally heaven in itself (im in love with u)

you guys reading my works are what validate me in life (i'm so in love with you too, babe)

Scales and Arpeggios

pairing | aemond x wife!reader word count | 4.3k words summary | aemond and his wife share tender moments with their children, engaging in music lessons that bring warmth and joy to their family amidst the shadows of the dance of dragons.

note | slight angst, hotd au (greens win), KING AEMOND, toothrotting fluffff, children, no description of reader, fluffy Aemond, soft aemond, pregnant!reader a/n | aristocats inspired (duchess and her kittens), I thought of this this morning. I really needed this fluff after all my negative thoughts and feelings. also don't worry, I have all my requests in the making, and in my draft's - prepare for the angst and feels.

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond was tired.

Day upon day, his life was mired in endless council meetings, audiences with quarrelsome lords, and grievances of the peasantry, all in the name of healing a realm ravaged by war.

It had been two years since the Dance of the Dragons had torn through the land, yet the scars remained, as fresh as the charred ruins left in the dragons’ wake.

And here he was, King of the Seven Kingdoms—but at what bitter cost. He had bested Daemon in the fierce clash over the God’s Eye, and his half-sister, the self-styled Queen, had been devoured by her own madness.

She met her end as Sunfyre tore her asunder upon Aegon’s command. Not long after, Aegon himself succumbed to his wounds, leaving the crown a hollow prize.

Aemond had defeated the Blacks. The traitors were vanquished, their cause snuffed out. But his family had been taken in the fires of war. Jaehaerys murdered; young Maelor torn apart; Daeron slain.

Helaena, dear Helaena, had taken her own life. And Aegon—Aegon had burned away with his dragon, his defiance crumbling under the agony of his wounds.

All that remained of his bloodline were fleeting shadows of memory and ashes of kin. Only his wife, the woman bound to him since he was but fourteen, remained steadfast.

Through the dark days of the war, you had been his only constant, his sole source of solace. In the end, that was all he had left: his bride, his son Aeron, his niece Jaehaera, and his mother, Queen Alicent, who clung to life with a frail resilience.

It was his wife, too, who had stayed his hand when he considered the fates of Daemon’s daughters. You had urged him to spare the lives of Baela and Rhaena, allowing them sanctuary with their sole surviving brother, Aegon the Younger, now far away in Driftmark.

And yet, his mother had been torn asunder by grief, the madness that followed the loss of three of her children consuming her like a wildfire. Just months ago, Alicent had succumbed to the cruel grip of Winter Fever, and with her passing, the warmth of their family had dimmed further.

He blamed himself, for in his fervor to protect his own—the children he adored and his beloved wife—he had allowed himself to be blind to his mother’s decline. Each day, he devoted himself to the care and nurturing of Aeron and Daenys, ensuring Jaehaera felt the presence of family, while the ever-looming responsibilities of the crown overshadowed his duties as a son.

Now, he barely caught glimpses of the life that remained. He would rise in the early hours, the dawn light casting a soft glow upon his wife’s sleeping form, a fleeting moment of peace before he was swept away by the relentless tide of royal obligations.

In the fleeting minutes before he departed for court, he could only admire the serene lines of your face, knowing that the day would steal him from your side again.

The children were no better; brief encounters in the corridors felt like whispers of a past he could hardly grasp. Aeron would be playing with his toys, and Daenys might be crawling after the palace cats, laughter echoing softly in the halls, but those joyful sounds seemed distant, muffled by the duties that consumed him.

But on this day, a flicker of fortune shone upon him; he had managed to complete his duties earlier than usual. Typically, he toiled long into the night, only to return to the warmth of their chambers when all were asleep. Though it was after supper, a glimmer of hope sparked within him that perhaps he could still find them, to grasp those precious moments he had so dearly missed.

Through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, the young Prince Aeron and Princess Jaehaera raced, their laughter echoing against the cold stone walls as they hurried toward the music lesson that awaited them. The air was filled with the thrill of their spirited competition, each eager to claim the title of first to arrive.

As they rounded a corner, Jaehaera noticed Aeron pulling ahead, determination etched across his small face. In a quick, daring move, she reached out and tugged at his tunic, managing to pull him back just enough to dart ahead. “Me first!” she shouted, her voice ringing with triumph.

Not to be outdone, Aeron swiftly grabbed hold of her arm, attempting to halt her advance. “And why should you be first?” he challenged.

Jaehaera strained against his grip, lifting her chin defiantly as she met his gaze. “Because I am the future queen, that’s why!” she declared, her voice bold and unwavering.

With that, she broke free, dashing down the corridor, but Aeron was quick on her heels, bumping her to the side in a playful shove that almost sent her sprawling against the wall. “You’re not a queen! You’re nothing but my cousin!” he yelled.

Jaehaera shot him a fierce glare, her brows knitting together. “I’ll show you if I’m a queen or not,” she murmured under her breath, determination simmering in her tone as they neared the door to the music room.

In a last-ditch effort to claim victory, Jaehaera pushed Aeron aside just as they reached the threshold. He stumbled slightly but quickly regained his footing, throwing a frown her way. “Fight fair, Jae!”

Without missing a beat, she rolled her eyes and slipped into the room, only to be met with an unexpected shove from Aeron as he followed closely behind. He hadn’t meant to, but the force sent Jaehaera tumbling to the ground with a hard thud that echoed in the hall.

She shot him a fierce glare, her lips forming a pout as she rubbed her side. “Now that hurt!” she exclaimed, the hint of a whine creeping into her voice.

“Aunty! Aunty!” she called out, her tone shifting to one of urgency.

Moments later, you entered the room, carrying Daenys on your hip. A mixture of sternness and affection danced on your face as you regarded the two children. “Jaehaera, my darling, Jaehaera,” you said, your voice firm but softening with a smile. “You must stop that; it is really not ladylike.”

Your gaze shifted to Aeron, your tone turning slightly admonishing. “And you, Aeron, such behavior is most unbecoming of a lovely gentleman.”

Aeron’s cheeks flushed, and he scowled at Jaehaera, ready to defend himself. “Well, she started it,” he retorted, crossing his arms defiantly.

Jaehaera, unfazed, lifted her chin in a gesture of regal disdain, pointedly turning her gaze away from him. “Queens do not start fights,” she declared, her voice dripping with authority. Then, with a scrunch of her nose, she added, “But they can finish them.”

Aeron rolled his eyes dramatically at Jaehaera, sticking out his tongue in mockery, but the jest was short-lived as he heard his mother’s voice call out from across the room. “Now, Aeron, don’t be rude,” you scolded, your tone firm but laced with affection.

He turned to you, flashing an innocent smile, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. “We were just practicing fighting and pushing,” he replied, his words punctuated by an exaggerated shrug that only added to the mischief of the moment.

You felt a jolt of discomfort at his words, a wave of haunting memories crashing over you. The echoes of past conflicts flickered in your mind—battles fought and lives lost, the heavy price of such lessons. “Targaryens do not practice fighting and pushing and things like that,” you replied, your voice low, the irony of your own words hanging heavily in the air. “It is just horrible.”

With a determined effort, you sought to redirect the conversation and lighten the mood. “Now,” you began, your expression softening as you turned your gaze to Daenys, nestled in your arms, her tiny form clearly on the brink of sleep.

You smiled adoringly at her, a sense of calm washing over you as you looked back at Jaehaera and Aeron. “Why don’t you two head over to the piano, and let’s begin our lesson?”

“Yes, Aunty!” Jaehaera chirped, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she practically danced toward the instrument, subtly shouldering Aeron aside.

Aeron glared at Jaehaera, his indignation flaring up momentarily, but he quickly turned to you with a soft nod. “Yes, Mama,” he replied.

“It’s time to practice your scales and your arpeggios,” you encouraged, as you moved toward the piano. You settled onto the chaise beside it, Daenys resting her head comfortably against your shoulder, her eyes half-closed as she watched her brother and cousin with a sleepy fascination.

Jaehaera stood poised beside the grand piano, her back straight and shoulders squared, a picture of determination. She cleared her throat, the sound echoing softly in the air, and waited expectantly for Aeron to begin.

However, she cast him a pointed glare as he took his sweet time, leisurely warming up his hands as if the lesson were no pressing matter.

Finally, after an impatient moment, Jaehaera announced, “I’m ready, Maestro,” her voice ringing with a blend of authority and hautiness.

Aeron shot her a sideways glance, his mischievous grin returning as he subtly shifted his foot and stomped down hard onto Jaehaera’s, eliciting a sharp squeak from her.

“Aunty, he did it again!” she exclaimed, turning her wide eyes toward you, indignation clear in her voice.

Aeron, unfazed, looked away, propping his chin on his hand with an exaggerated air of nonchalance. “Tattletale,” he whispered in response.

You carefully rubbed Daenys' back, the gentle motion soothing your daughter. Your patience was unwavering, as you said, “Now, Aeron, please, darling, settle down and play me your pretty little song.” Your voice was calm, and your tone both firm and nurturing.

With a resigned sigh, Aeron nodded, his playful demeanor shifting as he positioned himself at the piano. “Yes, Mama,” he murmured, fingers poised above the keys. As he began to play, the room filled with the soft, melodic strains of his music.

Aemond was at a loss, frustration tightening his chest as he searched the sprawling halls of the Red Keep for you. He had scoured your shared chambers, his personal solar, and the children’s bedrooms, but you were nowhere to be found.

The sinking feeling in his gut only grew as he realized he needed assistance, and at last, he sought out one of the guards stationed nearby.

The guard cleared his throat and straightened slightly, sensing the prince’s impatience. “At Her Grace's music lessons, sire,” he replied, his tone respectful.

“Music lessons?” Aemond murmured to himself, brow furrowing in confusion. He had not realized such an event was taking place, nor had he been informed of it.

Without another moment's hesitation, he rushed in the direction indicated, making his way down a seldom-used wing of the castle, its walls lined with faded tapestries and the whispers of history.

As he drew closer, he heard the unmistakable sound of a piano, its notes cascading through the air like a gentle stream, drawing him forward.

Coming closer to the door, he opened it quietly before he peeked his head inside, his heart melting at the sight as he heard Jaehaera's voice.

"Do mi sol do do sol mi do," the girl of six summers sang, her voice young and somewhat pitchy as she sang confidently, "Every truly cultured music student knows. You must learn your scales and your arpeggios Finger music ringing from your chest And not your nose. While you sing your scales and your arpeggios"

Aemond stood just beyond the doorway, a swell of pride filling his chest as he watched his five-year-old son, Aeron, seated at the piano. The boy’s fingers danced across the keys with a mixture of enthusiasm and concentration, his small face lit with determination.

To Aemond’s surprise, Aeron broke into song as well, his voice sweet yet tinged with the tremor of youth. “If you’re faithful to your daily practicing, you will find your progress is encouraging,” he sang, each note imbued with his budding confidence.

Beside him, Jaehaera stood, arms crossed and a hint of exasperation in her eyes as she rolled them subtly at Aeron’s exuberance. Aeron continued, his voice growing bolder yet still wavering, “Do mi sol me do, mi sol me fa la sol, it goes. When you do your scales and your arpeggios.”

Jaehaera lifted her voice to sing her part again, “Do mi so do,” but she was abruptly cut off by Aeron, who had become overly enthusiastic at the piano, his fingers now racing across the keys with fervor.

“Do mi sol do, do sol mi do,” you chimed in, your voice ethereal and melodic, casting a gentle spell over the room. Aemond found his gaze drawn to you, the light catching your features as you sang alongside the children.

Jaehaera quickly fell in with you, her voice harmonizing beautifully, “Do mi sol do, do sol mi do. Though at first it seems as though it doesn’t show, like a tree, ability will bloom and grow.”

In your arms, Daenys, who had previously been drifting off to sleep, now sat wide awake, her bright eyes filled with wonder as she attempted to mimic the words you and Jaehaera sang. Her babbling intermingled with the melody.

The three of you continued in unison, your voices intertwining, “If you’re smart, you’ll learn by heart what every artist knows. You must sing your scales.....and your arpeggios.”

Aemond leaned against the doorframe, a small smile gracing his lips as he took in the delightful scene unfolding before him. The flickering light of the candles cast a warm glow across the room, illuminating the joy radiating from his children.

Aeron beamed at you, his face aglow with pride as the final notes of the song faded into the air. “How was that, Mama?” he asked, his bright eyes shining with eager anticipation.

You turned to him, your heart swelling with affection. “Absolutely wonderful, my love,” you replied, your voice laced with warmth and encouragement. Just as you opened your mouth to add more praise, a small, excited voice broke through the moment.

“Kēpa! Kēpa!” Daenys cried out, her tiny hands clapping together in delight, her wide lilac eyes fixed on the door where Aemond stood.

All three of you turned your attention toward the threshold, and Aemond couldn’t help but feel a slight flush of warmth at the sight of his little girl’s enthusiasm. He stood there, somewhat awkwardly.

“Do you wish to join us, my king?” you teased gently, a playful amusement dancing in your tone as you gestured for him to enter.

Aemond gave you a small smile before striding into the room, the familiar weight of his crown momentarily forgotten in the presence of his family.

Daenys, her cherubic face lighting up with excitement, eagerly raised her arms toward him, and he scooped her up effortlessly from your embrace, her giggles filling the air. “I was not aware there were music lessons in the first place,” he remarked, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Merely for the children’s entertainment, I assure you,” you replied softly, your heart warmed by the sight of your husband.

Aemond shot you a skeptical glance, an eyebrow arching slightly as he nodded. “Oh, I am sure,” he replied, a hint of teasing lacing his tone.

“Father, did you see how I played?” Aeron asked eagerly, his small hands still resting on the piano keys, a bright grin spreading across his face.

“Yes, I did,” Aemond said, his expression softening as he smiled down at his son. “Much better than any bard I’ve heard.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and Aeron beamed at the praise.

“And did you see how I sang, uncle?” Jaehaera chimed in, her voice a melodic chime that danced through the air like the notes of the piano.

“Yes, of course,” Aemond replied, nodding with genuine admiration. “One day, you might even come to rival the Queen’s voice.” The compliment brought a bright flush to Jaehaera's cheeks, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“She’ll be even better than me,” you murmured, a soft smile gracing your lips as you watched the exchange unfold.

As the children chattered excitedly, desperate for their King's attention, your gaze drifted to the doorway, where you spotted your maid, Emery, standing patiently, signaling that it was time for bed.

You cleared your throat gently, drawing the children's attention back to you. “Children, it’s time to go to bed,” you announced softly, your voice laced with warmth yet firm.

Aeron turned to you, his wide eyes shimmering with innocence as he clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. “Do we have to, Mama? Father just got here,” he implored, his lower lip jutting out in a way that made your heart ache.

You sighed, feeling your resolve weaken under the weight of his pleas. However, Aemond came to your rescue, his hand affectionately ruffling Aeron’s fluffy silver hair. “And I’ll come say goodnight once you are in bed, little king,” he promised, his voice soothing and reassuring.

You tilted your head toward the door, giving a gentle nudge. “Emery is waiting for you,” you murmured, the soft authority in your tone guiding them toward the inevitable.

Disappointment flickered in both Jaehaera’s and Aeron’s eyes, yet they nodded reluctantly. Jaehaera approached your side and planted a tender kiss on your cheek, her small frame radiating warmth as she bid you goodnight.

Following her lead, Aeron hurried to do the same, his kiss lingering a moment longer before he bent down to press his lips against your swelling stomach, his sweet gesture eliciting a smile from you.

Aemond, observing the tender moment, passed baby Daenys into your arms. She giggled excitedly, her laughter a delightful sound as you smothered her with kisses, before you handed Daenys to Emery, who was prepared to lead the children out.

As the soft patter of little feet faded down the corridor, the lively laughter and chatter of the children ebbed away, leaving you and Aemond cocooned in the warm embrace of the cozy chamber.

A serene silence enveloped the two of you, a precious moment amidst the storm of duties and the remnants of grief that lingered in the air.

“Hello, husband,” you greeted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to shatter the comfortable stillness that settled between you.

“Hello, wife,” Aemond murmured in return, his tone low and warm as he lowered himself onto the piano bench beside you.

With a gentle grace, he let his hand drift over the piano keys, pausing just short of touching them. It was a silent acknowledgment of his lack of skill, yet he seemed fascinated by the instrument nonetheless.

You watched him, the lines of his face illuminated by the soft glow of the chamber, and felt a pang of affection.

“I apologize for not informing you about the lessons,” you said, your voice steady yet filled with sincerity.

“Tis alright,” he replied, though his gaze remained fixed away from you, a flicker of concern shadowing his features. “When did it begin?”

“The day of your mother’s funeral,” you replied gently, choosing your words with care. “Your duties had taken you away, and Aeron and Jaehaera were feeling very down. I thought music might lift their spirits, and it has. Jaehaera even asked me to teach her to sing and play.”

At the mention of that day, Aemond’s expression shifted. Guilt washed over him, and memories flooded back—his mother’s service at the Sept, the heavy atmosphere of sorrow, and how he had been swept away in the currents of his responsibilities, never given a moment to truly mourn.

He nodded thoughtfully, his voice barely above a whisper. “Aeron seems particularly skilled.”

“He is a very intelligent little boy,” you agreed, your eyes not leaving his as he continued to stare at the piano, lost in thought. “He has an eagerness to learn that reminds me of you.”

Aemond chuckled softly, the sound breaking through the solemnity that hung in the air. “I fear he has far more talent than I ever did,” he said, a hint of pride seeping into his words. “But I’m glad to see them find joy in something so beautiful.”

“Music has a way of healing,” you remarked, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Especially in times like these.”

He turned to face you fully, his piercing violet eye searching yours. “And what of you? How do you fare amidst the shadows of loss?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his concern. “I carry the grief, as we all do. But I find solace in our children. Their laughter reminds me of the light we can still find in our lives.”

Aemond’s gaze softened, and he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing over yours with an intimacy that sent warmth coursing through you. “You are stronger than I,” he said earnestly. “I often wonder how you manage to bear the burdens we both carry.”

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, you replied, “We bear them together, my king. That is what family is for.”

Aemond's brow furrowed slightly, and he murmured, “Aeron... he shall be a better king than I.” His voice held a weight of expectation and uncertainty, a reflection of his own doubts.

You turned your gaze toward him, a hint of sadness flickering in your eyes as you stood and swiftly settled beside him on the bench.

Reaching out, you cupped his face in your hands, grounding him with your touch. “Only because he shall learn from your mistakes. Every king should be better than the former.”

Aemond stared into your eyes, his heart swelling with gratitude. In truth, he had often wondered what he had done to deserve your steadfast presence. Memories washed over him—of the day he first met you when he was merely fourteen, a boy angry and hateful at the world.

He leaned his forehead against yours, finding solace in your warmth. “You are very wise, my queen. You never lead me astray.”

“Destiny has its designs,” you replied softly, a small smile gracing your lips. “And I am merely fulfilling mine. To guide you, to stand by your side.”

He chuckled lightly, the sound a blend of affection and admiration. “Even when I do not deserve it?”

“Especially then,” you countered, your tone playful yet sincere. “Every king needs a queen to keep him grounded, to remind him of what truly matters.”

Aemond took a deep breath, the weight of the realm and his responsibilities momentarily lifted. “And what is that, my love?”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It is love, loyalty, and the hope for a better tomorrow. The kind of future we want for our children.”

Aemond leaned back, a rare lightness settling in his chest for the first time in what felt like an age. He placed his hand over your round belly, feeling the warmth radiate from within. You tilted your head, an amused smile blossoming on your lips as you caught his gaze.

“Aeron has taken to kissing my stomach,” you said, your tone playful. “He believes that if he shows enough affection, it might persuade my body to grant him a brother. He claims it would make his chances of having a fair fight against the girls much better.”

Aemond chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. Then, nodding toward the piano, he added, “Teach me. I may never reach the heights of Aeron’s talent, but perhaps I could aspire to match little Daenys’ skill.”

Your laughter chimed like music in the air, a sound that warmed his spirit. Aemond grinned at the absurdity of comparing his potential to that of his infant daughter. “Very well,” you said, your eyes sparkling with delight. “First, let us see what you can do.”

You guided him closer to the piano, instructing him to place his large, slender hands over yours on the keys. “Feel the movement,” you encouraged, your voice soft and patient. “It’s not merely about the notes; it’s about the rhythm and the heart behind them.”

Unbeknownst to you and Aemond, enveloped in your own intimate world, three pairs of curious eyes peered in from the slightly ajar door of the chamber. Jaehaera, Aeron, and little Daenys had quietly slipped away from their caretakers.

Jaehaera, though only six years of age, sighed wistfully as she watched her uncle and aunt. “How romantic,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a sense of longing.

She cradled baby Daenys in her arms, the infant unusually calm, her wide eyes reflecting the gentle glow of the room as she took in the scene of her mother and father together.

Aeron, standing beside Jaehaera, observed his parents intently, a thoughtful frown furrowing his brow. “Do you think our marriage will be like that?” he asked, glancing over at Jaehaera to gauge her reaction.

Jaehaera turned to him, her gaze sharp and serious, her little brows furrowing in determination. “It has to, Aeron. It has to.”

“Do you think we’ll be that happy?” he pressed, his youthful innocence shining through, even as the shadows of doubt crept into his mind.

She nodded vigorously, her long silver hair bouncing with the motion. “Of course! The king and queen love each other. If we love each other like they do, it will be just as wonderful.”

Aeron pondered her words, his gaze drifting back to the sight of you and Aemond, lost in your shared moment. “And what if…” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “What if things become difficult, like they do in the stories?”

Jaehaera frowned slightly, her youthful optimism momentarily faltering. “Then we fight for each other, just like they do,” she declared with conviction.

Aeron nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face. “I like that idea,” he said softly, his gaze drifting back to the happy scene of his mother and his father.

“We’ll make it the best story ever.”

[Jaehaera, Aeron, Daenys]

headcannonsss:

— aemond and reader end up having six children in total: aeron (18), daenys (15), mikael (13), jaemes (10), elaena (7) and aelora (4) + jaehaera (19)

— aeron and jaehaera marry

— daenys falls in love with aegon (rhaenyra's son)

— mikael comes out as gay

— jaemes and elaena marry

— aelora refuses to marry and part with her mother (sophie/donna relationship)

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond

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aelyssa1 · 16 days ago

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oh yes do keep going

AEMOND TARGARYEN HOTD 2.07: The Red Sowing

#aemond targaryen #my kitten #princesscore

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romanteacism · 3 months ago

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Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Leave

Synopsis: As Aemond grew conscious of the court noticing you and his closeness, he makes drastic measures to cease their wagging tongues, even if it meant that things would return to how they first were. Warnings: None (yet), Slight Angst, Cold and Silent Aemond, Infatuation, Jealousy PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART A/N: I'm sorry, don't be mad at me-- i fear this was needed.

“They are quite close, are they not?” Aemond heard the hushed whisper of a court member as he had his arm linked with yours as you picked flowers in the garden. Your knight is holding a basket that houses your kitten, who slept through the afternoon, and the flowers you picked. Aemond had felt the eyes of the court focused on the two of you as of late. He swallowed thickly as you stepped closer to him, placing a flower in the niche of his armor, smiling up fondly upon your knight, which caused the whispers of the observers to grow louder, but it would seem you were oblivious to it.

“Too close, if you ask me… it does make one wonder,” He heard a lord’s snide comment, making Aemond tense. He looked around and caught the eyes of a group of lords looking upon him quizically as he was arm-in-arm with the princess of the realm. It was not as if he was the one to link your arms; you had done it of your own volition, and who was he to remove his arm around yours? “What’s your favorite flower, Ser Aemond?” You asked, voice dreamy and distant as you were too distracted by the freshly bloomed flowers that came in time just before the end of the summer. “I do not have one, princess.” He replied, trying to ignore the curious gazes of the court.

“That’s not right! Everyone must have their favorite! Here, smell this,” You say and stand on the tip of your toes as you practically shove a flower upon your sworn protector’s face. Aemond’s eye went to the spectators once more, whispering in each other’s ears and scandal heavy in their eyes. “I…I do not care for it, princess,” He gritted, not actually able to breathe as their gazes were piercing through him. You frowned and removed the flower away from your knight. Your frown furthered as he removed your linked arms and took a step away from you. You bit the insides of your cheeks, fearing you had offended your knight, but you kept silent and let him keep his distance.

Throughout the afternoon, you noticed Ser Aemond had made additional space between you two— space that had dissolved during the moons of being in your station but had immediately returned in just one afternoon. You tried not to fret about the distance, however unaccustomed and odd it felt. When night came, Ser Aemond walked behind you as you threaded the halls to the dining room. “You should have supper as well, Ser Aemond.” You say before entering the doors. You turned to your knight, expecting to lock eyes with his unique lilac gaze that was lustrous when in the light of the moon, but Ser Aemond could not even look you in the eye. You hid your confusion and disappeared behind the door, silently hoping Ser Aemond would take your advice and actually eat.

“I cannot believe summer is already at an end,” You tried to make conversation as you and Ser Aemond walked to your chambers. You passed a few court members passing you two by as they walked their way back to their own chambers. You smiled and bid them ‘good evening,’ waiting for your knight to reply to your statement, but he stayed silent. “Good night, Ser Aemond,” you smiled sweetly as you reached your door; you had hoped he would at least return that one simple greeting, but all he did was nod and move to stand on his post, still not meeting your eye. When you retired for the night, you could not help but overthink your knight’s aloof action, and you could only hope that all would return to the way it was the following day. It did not.

“Good morning, Ser Aemond,” You chirped, trying to display a cheery disposition despite your confusion towards your knight’s stoic behavior that you thought you had broken through. He only nodded, and you did not want to acknowledge the pit in your stomach. Had you made a transgression upon him that you were unaware of? Have you offended him? Your mind ran with thoughts and questions that could only answered by your knight, who seemed to ignore you once more.

As Aemond stood behind you as you ate your first meal of the day, he observed the small pout on your lips and the light furrow in your brows. He trailed his gaze around the gardens, observing other highborn ladies with their sworn protectors—a respectable distance between them. The noblewomen never seem to acknowledge the presence of their knights. Speaking to them as if they were mere servants and not even human. Never acknowledging nor thanking them for their service, however meager or great they were—a complete contrast to how you treat him. He then recalled the talk he would engage with his fellow knights, them telling him horrid stories about the ladies they guard— telling Aemond how lucky he was and how jealous they were to be stationed to you. Despite your tendencies to run off, they would prefer to be your guard rather than be stuck with the other snobbish ladies of the court.

As the day went on, Aemond placed great restraint on himself to keep his distance from you. No matter how second nature it had become for him to walk beside you, he walked a few steps behind. As you walked the empty halls, the silence got the better of you, making you halt in your steps and turn to your knight. “Had I done something wrong?” You asked with a tilt of your head, unable to bear the eerie quiet between you and your knight. Aemond cautiously looked around the halls as you stepped closer to him and him trying his best to slyly back away. “No.” He responded curtly. You frowned, “Then… You usually walk by my side; why are you back there? And—and you had not spoken to me since yesterday. Are you mad at me?” You asked, fearing for his reply. “I am not, princess.” He said, but he could still not even meet your gaze. “You are! You could not even look me in the eye! What have I done?” You countered. Aemond grew conscious as you uncharacteristically raised your voice, possibly catching the attention of any passersby.

Aemond bit his tongue and took hold of your arm to pull you to the niche of an alcove and away from curious eyes and prying ears. “You had not done anything,” he whispered. “Then why are you acting so distant? If I had done nothing wrong, then why are you ignoring me?” You asked. Aemond breathed in deeply, not knowing how to word out his thoughts. “The court is…” He trailed, and you waited for him to finish his thought, but Aemond second-guessed and held back his tongue. “The court is what?” You urged.

Aemond sighed. “The court is growing curious about our proximity,” He explained, but that only seemed to confuse you further. “Our proximity? But you need to be by my side.” You said you were unable to grasp what Ser Aemond meant. “Not our physical proximity— well, perhaps that too— but what I mean is, they are curious to are… familiarity.” He said, unable to clearly articulate what he meant. Your lips parted in further confusion, “Well, yes, because you are my friend. Is there something the matter with that?” Aemond blinked at your words. “I am your knight.” He clarified. “You are. You are my sworn protector as well as my friend.” You explained further. Aemond breathed in disbelief, “I am not your friend, princess.” He gritted, and you felt a twitch in your chest. “I am simply your knight. Who is by your side because my duty.” He added. His eye grew colder the moment he uttered the words. You lowered your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you had considered Ser Aemond a friend when he only viewed you as his task. “And it would be best if we keep a sense of professionalism and boundaries, princess. I still have a post to fulfill.”

You nodded, biting harshly on your tongue as you felt a burning in your nose. Tears started forming in your eyes, but you refused to let them be seen by Ser Aemond. “Very well then, if that is what you wish.” You said, trying not to let your voice waver and forcing it to have the same pitch as when you usually spoke, even forcing a small pleasing smile on your lips to try and convince your knight and even yourself that his words did not struck something in you. You could not believe how quickly things changed. Just as you and your knight began to grow comfortable and accustomed to each other— dare you say, even close, all things returned to the first days of him being in his station. Ser Aemond returned to his armored demeanor of being stoic, silent, and distant. A coldness you did not think you would feel again as you foolishly believed that the warmness built and tended to in your knight would go forevermore.

When the following day came, you awoke with a few tears sliding from the side of your eyes; unable to account the reason for your crying, you convinced yourself it was because of a dream that came in the dead of night that you could not recall. You lay on your featherbed and heard the silent chatter of two voices; one was from your knight, and the other was from your chambermaid. The two conversing on the other side of your door. You lay still and eavesdropped on their conversation, surprised as you heard a smile on your knight’s voice and a quiet laugh escaping the lips of your chambermaid.

You took in deep, calming breaths as you felt a burning in your chest. When you hear your door open, you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, waiting for your chambermaid to open the drapes and wake you. When light flooded your room, you pretended to wake, feigning drowsiness and yawning fictiously. “Good morning, princess,” Celia smiled widely, seemingly elated with her conversation with Ser Aemond. You could only give her a slight smile, the painful throb in your chest hindering you from speaking and making you forget about the manners instilled greatly in your mind.

As the day went on, you would often catch a glimpse of your chambermaid, Celia, along the halls and the gardens where you frequented. Her usual duties were not anywhere near where you would frequent, yet you would often catch her walking the same halls as where you and Ser Aemond went. A coy smile was on her lips each time she passed you and your knight, and a blush came to her cheeks as Ser Aemond met her gaze. You could not explain why, but you felt ill— as if you would wish to heave each time you caught their small interactions. You felt queasy the entire day, and you even brought yourself to the Maester’s tower to have yourself checked as you tried to convince yourself that the uneasiness you felt was brought forth because of an identified illness and not because of envy. Envy because your knight had rejected your friendship and began to ignore you once more but was effortlessly cordial with others who were not you.

“There is nothing wrong, princess— you are the picture of health.” The Maester smiled as he finished assessing you, your knight standing by the door, trying his best not to let his concern be seen. It was odd of you to willingly come to the Maester to have yourself checked, even when you were taken by a fever a few moons before; you hid your ailment from everyone, and your sickness was only discovered when Aemond accidentally brushed his hand with your forehead and felt the grave fever that you had hidden from them.

“Are you certain? I feel squeamish and… and as if bile is rising to my throat,” You said, and the Maester hummed as he pondered over your words. “Perhaps it is all of those sweets you have in the afternoon,” He said, and you paled, already feeling regret about bringing yourself to the Maester’s tower to identify a sickness that was not real but rather brought forth by denial. “Best to lay off them for now, princess. Just for a few days, and once you feel better, you could have your favorite custard tarts once more.” The Maester reassured as he saw the devastation on your face. “I can tell the cook that you no longer require your afternoon treats for the next few days; I am on my to the kitchens anyway.” You dejectedly nodded and walked out of the room with your head hung low as you did not think of the consequences of your feigned ailment.

Ser Aemond watched as you were sullen the entire day, unable to conclude if your somberness was because of his words the day before or because your favorite sweets were kept from you. Either way, he felt guilt consuming his insides, unable to bear to watch the once lively princess be consumed by melancholia.

A few days passed with you and Ser Aemond keeping your distance from one another, and as much as you tried to appear to be unbothered by the sudden change in your demeanors and routine, a constant and pestering feeling still overcame you. Gnawing at you throughout the night and even more so in the morning as Ser Aemond was in your presence.

“You’re not eating,” Your brother observed, surprised to see your plate barely touched. He was concerned as he recalled that you only had a few spoonfuls during supper the other night. “I’m not particularly hungry,” You smiled and sipped your tea, feeling the fleeting gaze of your knight at the back of your head before quickly turning away. “Are you well? Do you feel ill?” Your brother questioned, finding your behavior odd. “Of course I am, do not fret, brother.” You forced your smile to be bigger, trying to convince your sibling. He gave an unconvinced nod and stayed silent but still eyed you in concern.

When supper came, you could no longer bear to be in the silent and detached attitude of your knight, especially after you had broken through his armor. You pursed your lips as you were deep in thought as to how to proceed, simply playing with the tepid food on your plate. “Father?” You called, interrupting his and your brother’s conversation, the eyes of your family turning to you. “Could I make a request?” You asked, already widening your eyes and playing with your father’s sympathy. “You could, but my granting it would depend on what it is,” He hummed. “Well, seeing that we are only here for another week, I was thinking if you could remove my gua—“

“No.” He and your brother said in unison, and your mother breathed out a silent laugh. “I was not done explaining!” You said, and your brother rolled his eyes, “It is out of the question.” You shook your head and continued on anyway. “It is only for a week— and I swear, I shall only stay in the castle grounds; I will not even venture onto the shore!” Your father shook his head, taking a big bite of his meal. “You have a guard for a reason,” Your brother spoke once more.

“I know that! And a guard is placed in case of danger— but what danger shall come to this castle? It is impregnable! Not only are guards patrolling each gate and hall, but we also have the navy! Even you yourself had said that the summer palace has a better defense than the one in the capitol!” You and your brother began to argue, your voices growing louder and both of you not caring that the other spoke. “Enough!” Your father suddenly roared, banging his fist upon the wooden table to cease your and your brother’s bickering.

“You are aware of my tendency to escape,” You say, taking the opportunity of momentary silence. Your brother snorted, “We are,” Your father sighed. “But you do not know the reason for it.” You say, and they were rendered silent, except for your mother. “You do it for attention— you find it amusing when guards are beside themselves searching for you— you are not satisfied until you put your family through panic.” You frowned at your mother’s words, a different pang in your heart as you heard how she truly viewed you. Your brother was quick to notice your deflated shoulders and the urge in you to tear up. “Why?” He asked.

You licked your lips, “I just wish for a resemblance of independence— where a guard does not trail and follow each movement I make— I am comparable to a prisoner!” You say, and your mother snorts at your words, and you try your best to ignore her. “It’s just that this is the perfect opportunity for me to even have a resemblance of the freedom I crave— and if you grant me this, it will sedate my desire to escape and find independence myself.” You finished explaining, hoping your father would consider your request, for they had kept you caged your entire life.

You were only curious to know what it was like to be unencumbered by the constant presence of a guard who did nothing but oversee each action you took, ready to report any transgression you make and will make to your father and brother. And in truth, you could not stomach being in the presence of Ser Aemond at the moment because even though he was in your near proximity, his silence and indifference made you feel furthermore lonely than you felt when you were alone.

There was a palpable silence that enveloped the table for a moment, you looking upon your father and imploring him to bend to your will. He took in a deep breath and a large gulp of his wine. “Very well then, you shall be without a guard— but only for this week.” He said, bringing a true smile to your lips as you were overjoyed that you could not even pay mind to your mother, who rolled her eyes as you were granted what you wanted, as always. “Thank you, Father! And I swear I shall only be by the east wing and gardens!” You reassured, and your brother shook his head in disbelief. “You better be,” Your father sighed, but a small smile twitched on his lips as he saw the joy on your face.

“Tell your sister’s guard that he is dismissed for the week,” Your father ordered your brother as he stood; your brother sat in disbelief at your father’s decision. “You heard father, go!” You smiled triumphantly as your parents retired for the night, leaving you and your brother seated by the table, facing one another. Your brother grumbled and stood, stomping outside to speak with your knight.

“You are dismissed, Ser Aemond.” Your brother sighed as he spoke with your knight, who waited for you on the other side of the door. A frown quickly overcame Aemond’s face. “What do you mean, my prince? Have I not fulfilled my station?” He questioned, trying not to show the rage that was simmering in him. “What I mean is, you are dismissed for the week— you shall retrun to your station when we are to retrun to the capitol.” Your brother explained further, but that did not aid Aemond's confusion.

“My sister has requested our father for independence— insisted that she is not in need of a knight for the time being and father had granted her request. You are dismissed for the week. Take it as a rest— I know how demanding it must be to look upon my sister.” Aemond bit his tongue, turning to the ajar door of the dining room, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, who had asked your father to dismiss him. He did not.

“I still do not understand, my prince,” Ser Aemond repeated, and your brother breathed out a laugh. “Nor do I.” He muttered. “But you are free for the week. You may leave the castle and find other lodging if you please or not; it is up to you. Either way, you are unburdened by duties for the remainder of our stay here, so I advise you to rest and make the most out of your leave.” Your brother added, giving a nod as an indication for Ser Aemond to walk away. Aemond gritted his jaw, turning to the ajar door once more, and only saw a glimpse of your sullen face as you waited for your brother’s return. He nodded at the prince and took his leave, just as you wanted.

Taglist: @anukulee @ladyriverasafespace @rebeccawinters @gayfiretruck @bellarkeselection @thhriller @bittersweetmargarita @jellybeanstacey0519 @ewanmitchellfanatic

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yandereunsolved · 4 months ago

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More Self aware HOTD cast because I love you😘

Reader, knows the hotd cast is sentient so might as well: *watching that one scene where Vhagar bites off luke and his dragon* DIVE BOY AT HIGH SPEED!

Luke: *makes his dragon dive downwards without a question* *avoids his death as Vhagar bites air* .....

Reader: very good *turns to look at a bewildered Vhagar and Aemond* I WILL FIND A WAY TO REACH THROUGH THE SCREEN AND STRANGLE YOU MYSELF IF YOU HARM THE BABY!

Vhagar: *recoils in fright*

Reader: bad dragon! I am disappointed!

Vhagar: *looking like a kicked puppy*

Vaemond, on screen: HER SONS ARE BASTARD-

Reader: Boy shut the fuck up

Vaemond: ....

Rhaenyra: .....

Daemomd: ....

Reader: do you wanna get beheaded?! Apologise you uncultured swine-

Syrax: *appears on screen smiling like a kitten with a heart necklace made of gold around her?his?their neck*

Reader: baby, beautiful baby

Seasmoke: *flying to a running Addam*

Addam: *is running for his life*

Reader: boy calm down, you have a dragon now so sit your ass

Addam: *is scared but sat his ass on the sand*

Rhaenyra, wasn' suppose to appear much later but appears earlier: ....

Reader: Seasmoke I know he looks like Laenor but for the love of dragons, don't scare the guy even if its just a prank

Seasmoke: *huffing like a child who got told no*

Luke: *returns to his mother safe and sound*

Reader: on second thought I'll just fuck either Rhaenyra or Daemond, im disappointed

Aemond: ....

Rhaenyra: *feeling smug*

Daemond: *also feels smug*

Aegon: how come I don't get a chance and those two could?!

Rhaenys: *upset she couldn't be the queen*

Reader: If only I could reach through the god damn screen I will strangle the man for not giving you your birthright just because your a woman

Jaehaerys: ....

Reader: Shame! Shame on you! If it were me I will treat her the queen she is! Dishonour on you fiend!

Rhaenys: *just existing*

Reader: mommy?😍

Baby jaehaerys: *existing*

Reader: *in a small voice* baby!

Blood and Cheese: *appearing*

Reader: I WILL CUT YOUR DICKS OFF IF YOU LAY HAND ON BABY! *stands up abruptly from the sofa*

Blood and cheese: ....

I don't know what to put here it became limited🙁

😒 Stupid Tumblr ask box. Anygays, thank you. 😳 I have been fed. 🍖

More yandere self-aware hotd thoughts for the soul—

—

Aemond: "It isn't fair. First they wanted to... be intimate me. They do not want me to bed them anymore." muttering to himself.

Reader: "Killing children isn't sexy! Strip! Beat the shit out of your brother! Order some guards to do something. I like it when you command people... your naked body is hot too..."

—

Addam: "I love you."

Reader: "What?"

Addam: "I-I love you so much."

Reader: "Wow, uh—okay."

Daemon & Rhaenyra in the corner with their dragons.

Daemon: "I told him to keep his mouth shut."

Rhaenyra: "We can't just outright kill him."

Daemon: "Send him into battle and get him killed?"

Rhaenyra: "Exactly."

—

Aegon: taking care of baby jaehaerys.

Reader: "Mhm... so adorable."

Aegon: "Me?"

Reader: "Jaehaerys."

Aegon: "Oh."

Reader: "You're a total dilf."

Aegon: thinking: I feel like that's a good thing. smirk.

—

Reader: "Aww, such a cute dragon~!" to Vermithor.

Sees Vermithor's scene.

Reader: "Bad boy!"

Vermithor: growls and flops on the ground.

Reader: "No more massacres!"

Vermithor: whines and pouts adorably.

—

Criston: "I—"

Reader: "Shut the fuck up. On your knees. You need to drink your respect women juice."

—

Helaena: covered in blood. she just killed someone for reader.

Reader: "... Are you okay?"

Helaena: crying. "Do you love me?"

Reader: "My baby! I love you so much. I want to reach through the screen and cuddle you so badly."

Helaena: thinking about killing someone again just for her darling's approval.

—

The yandere self-aware hotd characters when darling reader loves them back—

#asks #anonymous #thanks anon!#anon ask #anonymous asks #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere hotd x reader #self aware au

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drmaddict · 1 month ago

Text

Royal Kitten

Summary: When Aemond is hit by the same spell as his brother and is now punished with whiskers, cat ears and a tail, all he wants to do, is hole up in his chambers.

How could he face the love of his life like that?

Wordcount: 3.114

Warnings: use of (Y/n), lots of fluff, insecure soft boy aemond

Author's note: second part to this:

https://www.tumblr.com/drmaddict/764327752527740928/bunny-prince?source=share

Alicent bumped into someone as she ran frantically round the corner.

"There you are.", Aicent sighed with relief when she saw her daughter-in-law.

She looked at Alicent in astonishment. "Why so upset?", she smiled gently.

"Aemond won't let me into his room, which I wouldn't mind if I didn't have to get him out of there.", she explained. "What's wrong? Do you know anything?"

She faltered. Alicent raised an eyebrow.

She sighed. "Well, the good news is that Aegon's back to normal... Well, as normal as Aegon can be. Humanly normal."

"I don't have much time.", she interrupted her.

"Sorry. Well... It could be that Aemond messed with the socerer, who released Aegon from his spell, admittedly very coroperatively, and now he has... whiskers."

Alicent stared at her.

"And maybe he literally hissed at Aegon in front of everyone and then ran off and holed up."

Alicent blinked in disbelief. "And how do I get him back to normal?", she asked angrily.

She was in a daze. "Well, the good news is there's a powder... The bad news... Aegon has it and... Because I wanted to get him to redeem Aemond straight away after his little outburst... he grabbed Sunfyre and went to Dragonstone... With the powder."

Alicent took a deep breath. Several times. "The Tully girl I want to present to Aemond as a bride is here any moment, and my son is half a cat?"

"THE Tully girl? The one he's been writing with?"

"That's the one."

Her daughter-in-law gave her an overwhelmed look. "Then I guess I'll find myself a... a boat. I'll get Aegon... somehow. Stall her. Three days... Maybe five."

"I don't have five days!"

"Then get him out of his chamber or get the girl in the chamber."

"And how?"

"You are the queen! And his mother! Order it." With that, she nodded firmly and quickly disappeared.

Alicent looked after her in disbelief.

"I'm going to the sept.", she said simply to the guards and left too.

A wine goblet fell from the table and hit the floor with a clatter.

Aemond turned round and saw his new tail still swinging over the table.

Furious, he kicked the table with his foot.

That damn thing. He knocked over everything. Everything! He grabbed the far too fluffy something and held it tight, but the thing had a mind of its own and twitched as best it could even in his hand. Annoyed, he sat down on his bed.

No sooner had he curled up in a sulk than the door opened.

"I said nobody comes in!", he shouted angrily.

He faltered when he saw his mother.

Her eyes widened minimally, when she saw him. She straightened up. "It's time for you to get married. (Y/n) Tully will be arriving here shortly."

Aemond's eyes nearly popped out of his head. (Y/n)? "Marriage? (Y/n)? What?"

His mother closed her eyes in surrender. "Your sister-in-law is getting whatever to get you back to normal. I'm telling (Y/n) that you had an accident while training to buy you some time. If she's not back in three days, you'll meet up. No matter what."

Aemond's heart was racing. "I can't face her like this!" Something rattled.

His tail had started thrashing around wildly and caught a bowl.

"And yet you will. She's a nice girl. She'll understand."

"Understand.", he scoffed. "I'll even be a laughing stock in front of my potential wife. Nothing else!"

Alicent's look became more confident.

"What?" Aemond asked angrily.

"You refer to her as your wife almost without argument. Thank me later for my choice... Don't screw it up!" With that, she turned round and left Aemond alone with his despair.

He savoured the quiet of the night, as he hid in the library. No one would see him now. He was safe here. He couldn't sleep anyway. His three days were up and he was supposed to meet (Y/n).

He still had all her letters. He remembered the girl, he had met as a little boy. He had had the best time of his childhood at the festival. She had talked to him. Played with him. She had simply accepted him, even without a dragon. No mockery had crossed her lips. So he had written to her, right after the festival, and she had replied. Their correspondence was the simple one of children, but it was the light of his everyday life.

Years later, he met her again. At a feast for Aegon's name day. She had grown like him. She was plumper and more womanly, though she hadn't quite grown into her stature yet. Aemond's heart had almost leapt out of his chest.

She hadn't looked at his lost eye and they had picked up where their letters had last ended.

In the last few months, however, Aemond had written less. Almost not at all. His self-imposed duties in swordplay and his studies were taking too much of a toll on him. He couldn't meet her like this. Not like this.

"Aemond?", he heard a hesitant voice.

He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head before his name had faded and jumped up from his chair. What was she doing here?

"Is that you?" she asked, still hesitant.

Aemond ran round one of the shelves.

"Don't come any closer!", he ordered when he saw her candle shining through the rows of books.

She stood still. "Your mum said you were hurt? Are you feeling better?", she asked gently.

Aemond narrowed his eyes. "Not as good as I'd like."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

She giggled slightly. "I couldn't sleep.", she confessed. "What's your excuse?"

"The same one." A smile came to his lips.

"Why are you hiding?"

Aemond's head was racing. "I... I didn't think I'd run into anyone. I don't have my eyepatch on. It's not a pretty sight."

He heard the fabric of her clothes rustle as she leaned against the shelf. "You know the Blackwoods visit us often. I can take a lot."

A dull thump sounded. That damn tail. He grabbed the whipping thing and held it tight.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

He heard her inhale deeply and exhale again. "If... If I... If you are tired of me, then please just say so. I'll understand."

Aemond's eyes shot open. "No! No! That's not it."

"You so rarely write." Her voice sounded shaky. "And now you're avoiding me."

"It's not you." He narrowed his eyes. "I've been busy... And-"

"And now you're avoiding me," she mumbled again.

"No. Well yes. It... Something has happened. Something that's hard to believe, but... I'd prefer to find a solution first."

"And what would that be?"

He took a deep breath. "Do you believe in sorcerers?"

"Not anymore.", she laughed incredulously.

"Well, my brother found one and-"

He heard a sneer. "You don't need to make up fairy tales. At least tell your mum so I can leave again. My father's thinking of marrying me off to Davos Blackwood anyway and he is actually talking to me."

He heard her take two steps away from the shelf. His head switched off and he shot round the shelf. Just wanted to stop her from leaving him. His hand reached for her arm.

Her gaze settled on him and changed from sad to surprised.

Aemond squinted his eye in agony. The hood hid his ears, but not his whiskers.

"I'm not lying.", he pressed out.

She blinked. "A sorcerer, you said."

Aemond sighed. "It will go away. I promise."

She nodded, then her gaze shot past him. He followed her gaze and groaned in annoyance. That damn thing.

"I read about a maester who can cure greyscale.", (Y/n) told him with a smile.

Aemond and she sat in opposite armchairs in his bedchamber, talking about their latest studies. Sir Criston Cole stood to the side, overseeing that the whole thing remained demure.

Aemond nodded, impressed. "How did he do it?"

"He cut off the affected skin and applied a certain oil, but I can't remember which one."

"Sounds painful."

"It won't be a petting.", she laughed.

Aemond tried to ignore the word 'petting'.

She stopped. "Too macabre?" she asked.

Aemond looked up at her in surprise. "Not at all. Why?"

She faltered. "Well... Your... Your ears... are laied back."

Aemond's eyes shot up as if he could see his own ears.

"It's all nothing.", he grumbled. "I haven't got the hang of it yet," he added agonisedly, waving like an idiot in the direction of his head.

She nodded with a smile. Her look became mischievous. "But let me know if I'm not ladylike enough for you."

Aemond's gaze shot involuntarily to her cleavage. He immediately tore his eye away.

And yet he heard a soft snort from Cole.

He looked at him with a venomous glare. He pressed his lips together with a grin and looked dutifully back towards the door.

Aemond rolled his eyes. "Don't worry.", he turned back to (Y/n).

She shook her head with a grin. "I haven't even seen Haelena or Aegon yet."

"Haelena prefers to be alone. She likes to take care of her bugs and creepy-crawlies, as mother calles them, when she's not flying out with Dreamfyre." He tapped his leg nervously. "Aegon disappeared to Dragonstone so I can't grab the powder to fix this," he pointed to his face," again. They should have come back a week ago.", he explained.

(Y/n) looked at him pityingly. "I'm sure they'll be here soon."

Aemond grumbled in what almost sounded like a growl.

"I must confess... I'm not angry about not having to share you." She pressed her lips together. "I've missed our correspondence, to be honest."

Aemond smiled apologetically. "I've been... Taken my studies very seriously." He yawned. Immediately, he rolled his eyes. "Spell." he said only to explain that she wasn't boring him. The last few days he could have slept all the time.

"We could meet again later, if you like."

Aemond was about to decline, not wanting to let her go, when another yawn tore at his lips and he almost felt like his eyes were falling shut. He already felt as lazy as Aegon.

"Maybe for dinner," he objected.

She smiled. "I'd love to."

She stood up. Cole came towards her. Aemond held out his hand to guide her to the door. Half cat, or not. He'd had an education.

He felt a small slip of paper in his palm as her delicate hand settled on his. He looked into her sparkling eyes.

"See you later." She nodded cheerfully and left the room with Cole. Aemond immediately tore open the crumpled note.

Midnight. Library.

It just said. Aemond's heart fluttered.

"That's a beautiful piece of work."

His mother smiled softly at the compliment and stroked her embroidered sleeve.

"Haelena embroiders many of my clothes. Even Aegon's. Only Aemond won't let her on his."

Aemond just grumbled. "I don't need to stand out any more than I already do.", he explained simply and looked again at (Y/n), who was embroidering a piece of cloth.

A dragon that looked very much like Vagahr. He smiled at the sight.

"She has great talent."

"Oh yes she does."

Aemond ignored the conversation and looked at (Y/n) instead. She was sitting next to him on the sofa. Her skin looked so soft. And she smelled so good. It seemed to him that his sense of smell had improved since he had been enchanted. He thought of how Aegon had thrown away the wine, when he was affected by the spell. His sense of smell had probably really adapted.

And she smelled heavenly. How he would love to show everyone in this castle that she belonged to him. How he would love for their scents to mingle. That she smelled like him-

"Aemond!", cried Alicent in shock.

Aemond snapped out of his thoughts and now saw his fingers stroking (Y/n)s neck and breastbone.

As if he had burnt himself, he pulled his hand back and put more distance between himself and her. He cleared his throat and looked at the table in front of him. He stole a looked at (Y/n) out of the corner of his eye. Her cheeks were flushed, but she tried to suppress a grin. Her scent increased. By the gods. He crossed his legs to hide his current state.

He felt his mother's disbelieving eyes on him. She cleared her throat. "Well. I wanted to show you the gardens (y/n)." With that, she stood up quickly.

(Y/n) just smiled. "I'd love to."

She turned to Aemond and curtseyed with a grin. Hidden from her mother, she tapped her palm.

Midnight. Library. That's what it should say.

Aemond nodded understandingly and let her go. He had something urgent to take care of anyway.

As soon as they were out of the room, his hand was in his trousers.

Aemond waited anxiously between the rows of books in the library. Ever since (Y/n) had left the room, he hadn't been able to rest. Which was strange, as he had usually slept through most of the last few days. But today. He could think of nothing else but being with her. To hold her. To take her. To mark her.

He shook his head. He was still a human, not a damn animal.

He heard soft footsteps. Her scent enveloped him immediately. He savoured the scent without being able to do anything about it.

Her face peeked around the corner, smiling.

"You gave your mum quite a fright," she grinned.

Aemond just stared at her. He realised under the cloak that he was getting hard again.

He exhaled shakily. "I... I have to go."

Confused, she looked at him. "Why?" Her voice sounded disappointed.

"My nose... Your scent... I..." He closed his eyes. "I can't control myself."

She took a step towards him. "What do you-"

He couldn't stop it. He pressed her against one of the shelves and pressed his mouth to hers. The whiskers were a little annoying, but he didn't care. He pressed his body against hers. Rubbed himself-

He tore himself away. He only marginally noticed, how her lips followed his, as if they didn't want to accept the separation.

"Sorry." He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

She bridged the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't stop."

He shook his head. "I'll go too far... Damn... if anything happens." The thought of seeing her round with his child made his head spin. He pressed his face to the crook of her neck and licked over the spot where her pulse was strongest. He rubbed his hips against her stomach.

She let out a surprised sigh. "Don't you want to marry me?" she asked.

"Of course, I do." he sighed. "More than anything in the world."

She reached for his head and pulled his face to hers. "Then it makes no difference."

She pulled him close now and they lost themselves in the caresses of their bodies. Until dawn slowly filled the library with pale daylight and a screaming Septa found them both asleep, wrapped in a cloak.

"The wedding will take place as soon as possible. No arguments. What were you thinking being so public-"

The door to Aemond's chambers opened.

His sister-in-law stepped inside. Her clothes clung to her, dripping. Aegon followed her like a puppy, just as wet as she was. He wore simple trousers and an open plain linen shirt. He was soiled. A leather ring hung around his neck.

His sister-in-law approached Aemond, tore open the bag in her hand and blew a handful of powder into his face. Aemond immediately lost consciousness. He was just glad he was sitting this time.

"By the gods. What happened to you?", he heard his mother exclaim.

Aemond's hand shot up to his face. No whiskers. Normal ears. He reached for his rump. No tail.

He stood up and walked to one of the mirrors. He was normal again. He breathed in deeply. No scent that robbed him of all intelligence.

He turned to his sister-in-law. "Thank you.", he said simply and sat back down next to (Y/n). He looked at her with a gentle smile. Her hand rested on his cheek. Her thumb stroked his skin.

"What has happened? What took you so long?" Alicent asked angrily.

His sister-in-law took a deep breath.

"Well, your son lost the powder in Dragonstone."

"I didn't-"

"Not a word!"

"Yes ma'am."

"He lost the powder, so he asked around until he found out that the sorcerer had travelled to Essos and of course flew after him immediately. When I arrived, thanks to Jacaerys, we first had to find Aegon, who had managed to be sold as a slave to a brothel." She took a deep breath. "You're in debt to Rhaenyra recently, by the way, and it's not exactly a small amount." Aegon looked at the ground like a beaten puppy. "But since we couldn't find the wizard, we went back to Dragonstone, where it turned out that Aegon, that is Rhaenyra's Aegon, had simply pushed the bag under a cupboard by mistake. On the flight back, we got caught in a storm and nearly drowned and now-" she took another exaggerated breath. "Now I'm going to take a bath. Come.", she ordered, pulling on the leash attached to Aegon's neck ring.

"Hey. I'm still the prince of-"

"I paid for you. Shut up and come.", she said and disappeared through the door again with a dazed Aegon.

Alicent looked after the two of them, overwhelmed, then her gaze landed back on Aemond and (Y/n).

She rubbed her forehead. "I'll placate the septa. The wedding is in a week's time.", she said simply and turned round. "The gods exalt me.", she murmured quietly and left the room as well.

Aemond and (Y/n) looked after her.

(Y/n) bit her lip. She pushed herself closer to him. He smiled and put a hand on her hip.

The door opened. Sir Criston Cole stepped through and looked at them both seriously. He indicated to Aemond with a nod of his head, that he should put some distance between them.

He rolled his eyes and moved away. He tapped his palm.

(Y/n) nodded with a grin and red cheeks.

"The library is now guarded from sundown till morning.", Cole interjected.

Aemond groaned in annoyance.

(Y/n) laughed.

Aemond would have loved to hear it all day.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond fluff #aemond fanfiction

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