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marthawrites · 4 months ago

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UNNNNNF I love it when Aemond is nasty and toxic!!! 🥵🥴🥵

This was a whole damn treat and it has me barking!

Wonderful work, Jess! Thank you for writing our silver haired prince a proper little asshole 🥰

Also ps I absolutely love how much your blog has grown since the beginning of this year! You and your fics deserve all the love and MORE XOXOXO

Mine To Claim

Dark Aemond X (Commoner Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,193

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Pregnancy, Infidelity, Dub-con

A/N: Hit 200 followers today!��🥳 Thank you to all of you who read and interact with my stories! You make this so fun and make me want to keep writing more and more! 🥰

The bell over the door in your little store chimes at you, and you look up to see the face of your long-time friend. It is an unlikely friendship and a friendship most people know nothing about, but it is a relationship that is dear to your heart.

He holds two small dresses over his arm. There is a seamstress in the keep. An incredibly talented one, but still, he takes dresses to you to be tailored or repaired.

"Hello, my prince," you smile as he brings the dresses up to you.

"These are small. Must be for the little princess?" You take the dresses from him and lay them out on the table before you.

"Running around with her brother, she damaged them. Here and here, " his face is stoic as he points to a few minor tears on the garments.

"Oh, I'll have these fixed up quickly." You hum to yourself as you lift the dress, trying to match the color to your available thread.

"No need to be quick. I have nowhere to be. " he sits down in the chair on the other side of your sewing table.

This was a regular occurrence, ever since the night you found him curled up cold and shaking outside the brothel your father frequented.

He had been dragged there by his brother to "become a man" and was so uncomfortable during the whole ordeal that he ran out into the dark streets alone to escape. It was raining and cold, and he had never been down in here on his own.

Lost, scared, and traumatized, he stumbled down the alleyways behind the brothel, passing by your little hovel where you sat on the stoop just watching the rain. As he moved just past your hovel, he drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands. Once you hear the sobbing, your heart breaks. From his size alone, you can see he is a child like you, so you ran to him, bringing him into your home, and miraculously, he went with you.

When he had pulled his hood down and you saw that silver hair, you froze in terror. It would be your luck that you accidentally dragged a Targaryen prince into your house.

You had apologized profusely, but he wasn't upset with you, and that was how it started, from there, he would come back to town with his brother regularly but instead of following him into the brothel he would come to see you.

You were a secret for him, a safe place where he could unload, you never judged, only supported, and because of that, the two of you grew to be very close.

You couldn't deny that he was handsome and charming. As he grew from a boy to a man, you could not help but be impressed by his commanding presence and his dedication to his swordsmanship and studies.

Today as he sat in the chair across from you, you couldn't help but smile.

"So...." you start and look at him knowingly.

He raises an eyebrow at you and you chuckle.

"How did it go? Your nephews being back?"

He instantly goes rigid and the calm look on his face hardens into a look of fury.

"Well, very well" he chuckles to himself as he crosses his legs.

"Is that so?" You know there is no way it went 'well' by an average person's definition of the word, you were however talking to Aemond so it's possible in his mind it did.

"Yes, I gave a wonderful speech, well received" he leans back in the chair a smug smirk crawling up the corners of his mouth.

You knew better than to continue to pry so you changed the subject. "I also have some good news" you continue stitching the dress in your hand as you wait for his reply.

"hmmm" he taps his fingertips on his knee "and what is that?" He keeps his eye trained on you, with a look of skepticism splayed across his sharp features.

"I am to be married!" You smile brightly and your cheeks heat up.

You have been seeing a fisherman, a young man by the name of Oscar. He has brown curly hair to his shoulders and warm brown eyes. A charming smile with a broad chest and shoulders.

You should have waited until marriage to let him bed you. You knew that. Yet, his charm and charisma had you leave your convictions by the wayside, and you found yourself missing a moon blood shortly thereafter, and when you bombarded Oscar with your fear and panic upon his most recent return, his response was that of elation and he quickly asked your father for permission to wed you.

Aemond's silence is deafening. You stare at him your smile beginning to faulter at his lack of reply.

"Are you not going to congratulate me?" You ask beginning to get a bit more frustrated and impatient.

"For what exactly?" His voice is cold and cruel, his fingertips tapping against his kneecap.

"For... for my happiness?" you are so confused at his behavior. He had always supported you, when you opened your own shop, when you finally put your foot down with your father and got him off the drink.

He grips the arms of the chair he is sitting in, his knuckles turning white. "Happiness?" he grits his teeth and stands up looking toward the door.

"When?" He still hasn't turned around and his voice is tense.

"In a few days..... Aemond.... this won't effect our friendship if that is what you are concerned about" You try to combat his anger and tense air with gentleness and understanding.

"Why is this so hurried?" He completely ignores your prior statement.

"What?"

"Why are you getting married so quickly? What. is. the. hurry?" He is now looking at you with his jaw clenched and his shoulders tense.

"Oh.... I'm ...... " You take a deep breath in. You know that he is a loyal follower of the seven. As are you. This confession is going to make things so much worse.

"I am with child." You close your eyes and squeeze them tight and wait for the inevitable chastising and disappointment.

"So you wish to marry him?"

You slowly open your eyes and look at Aemond with confusion. "Yes"

"And when the child is born, with silver hair and purple eyes, will people not question their true parentage?" He takes in sharp short breaths, and his lone eye is wide open, pupil blown.

"Why would my child look like a Targaryen?" You rub your temples to try and ease the pressure building there. 'What in the seven hells is he getting at?'

He quickly rounds the table and grabs your chin, pulling you up to your feet, your neck strained with your face up to look directly at him.

"Because of me." His face is still as stone. A look of conviction that has you even more confused than before.

"Aemond..... we have never....ummm. " You clear your throat, hoping that he would come to his senses.

He doesn't. He lowers his mouth to yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. At first, you can't help yourself, and you kiss him back. His lips are just as soft as you had imagined them.

He brings his hand up to the side of your face and slides it into your hair. When his kisses start to trail from your mouth down your neck, you start to remember that this isn't right.

"Stop." You push him away and back up. "We can not do this." You run your fingers through your hair.

"Why?" The anger pulsating off of his body is stifling.

"Because! I am to be married! I am with child! Another mans child! Aemond, you are a prince! This is madness!" You turn from him believing this would surely be the end of the situation.

"You are mine to claim!" He yells out.

The booming sound has you swing back around in shock.

He stalks toward you, a dragons fury burning in his sole eye.

"I must claim what is mine. It is not freely given to me. I will take it by force if I must, but the result remains the same. What I covet shall be mine"

"Aemond.... " You slowly back away from him, putting your hands up in front of you in a defensive gesture.

"You are mine." He steps closer to you. "You belong to me ever since the day I found you." He continues moving closer to you as you do your best to back away.

"Your body, your mind, your soul, it's all mine," the pupil of his eye has taken over entirely as he corners you in the back of your little shop.

You again attempt to reason with him. "Aemond... this baby..." He puts his hand up.

"Is mine"

"it can not be, it isn't possible." You press yourself up against the wall tightly. "You know this to be true!"

"It is mine.... because I will it so. " he wraps his hand around your throat, moving his face close to yours, whispering directly into your ear. "I waited too long, I see that now."

He ruffles up your skirts. "You are still mine." He moves his fingers over your heat and releases a husky breath.

"You can feel it, I know you can." He rubs his hand over your clothed center.

You mewl quietly as he moves his hand in a circular motion, applying more and more pressure.

"Your body..... it tells me what you will not. " he pulls your underclothes down to your knees before bringing his hand back to your center.

"You are soaking for me, and still you wish to deny us?" He slides a finger into you while tightening the grip around your throat.

He starts to pump his finger. "Your body has already given into me. The mind will follow. " He lightly nibbles at your cheek, and he crooks his finger, looking for the spot inside of you that would make you even weaker to his touch.

You start moaning loudly. "That's right Dōna Riña " He uses the palm of his hand to apply pressure to your pearl as he starts to slide a second finger into you. "submit"

"I .... I ..." Your body is responding to him in ways it has never responded to Oscar. Your senses are so heightened that you can't even form a coherent thought.

"Tell me you are mine." He tugs at the shell of your ear with his teeth as he brings you closer and closer to climax, holding the weight of your body up with his other hand.

"Yours." You practically whisper as you close your eyes, ready to ride out your pleasure. As soon as the words leave your lips, he stops.

"Not on my fingers." He picks you up by the waist carrying you back over to the sewing table. He slides his hand across, knocking all items to the ground.

You are like putty in his hands. Just desperate for him to touch you again. He lays you down back flat on the table, legs hanging off the end.

He pushes your dress up, exposing you to him. He slides his finger up and down through your folds, causing you to buck your hips toward him. "Say it again," he growls while he pulls the strings of his breeches loose.

Your hazy lust riddled mind is confused, and all you can muster is a gentle "huh?"

He pulls out his hard cock and slides it over your clit spreading your wetness. "I said to say it again, say what you are"

"Yours?" As soon as you say this he starts to push into you.

"Again," he grunts

"Yours!" You whimper

He wraps a hand around your throat as he bottoms out, moving gently against you. He sighs.

"That's right mine" He tightens the grip on your throat as he starts to fuck into you harshly "mine"

"This cunt is mine" He jams two of his fingers into your mouth making you gag "This mouth is mine"

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, dragging the wet digits down the front of your face.

He brings his hand to your chest and palms your breasts through your dress. "These tits are mine"

He brings his hand back down to your pearl, rubbing it in circular motions with his thumb. "It's all mine"

With this, you feel your climax surge through your body, your whole body clenches around him. He lets go of your throat, bringing both hands to your hips, pulling your body to him while he slams into you harder and harder, chasing his own release.

"This womb...." He grunts as he hits his own peak, making sure to fill you completely,"is mine"

You lay back on the table, having been fucked dumb.

"I'll come back for the dresses." He fixes his breeches before pulling your dress back down.

"And when i do, I better not see a husband here"

To be added to taglist click here

#other peoples writing #aemond targaryen #SOOO GOOD!!!

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marthawrites · 6 months ago

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EEEEEE!

Omg Feyd is so scary and sexy in this WHAT!!! Love this x100!

Also I know I've said this like twenty times but I really really enjoy your gender neutral fics! You write them beautifully and this was just... the bestest smuttiest treat ♥

Unreserved

Feyd x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI; penetration, oral sex (reader receiving), not really soft but maybe - maybe soft!dom Feyd?, spit as lube, kinda rough sex

Summary: Feyd can be himself with you and vents his frustration, no plot, just smut. no beta, appx. 1.8k words.

a/n: no physical description of reader; reader is not shocked by violence, very similar to Feyd himself was my goal anyway.

Feyd swept everything off the table with one stroke. His yell almost vibrated the walls. He was cool, calculated, stoic even, when he was in public. Here, however, just the two of you, he could let the emotions out. The only other place this was possible for him was in the arena. He stood, fists holding his weight on the tabletop, breathing heavily. His brow was furrowed, but began to soften.

You rose from your chair, barely rattled by his outburst. It wasn’t directed at you. As you walked toward him you assessed his state. He was angrier than you had seen in a while. The move from Giedi Prime had been a difficult one. He was honored to be named governor, but there was more here. Something new, perhaps.

You stood next to him, trailed your fingers up his forearm. The muscles and tendons were straining with his anger, like a bow string pulled taught. But at your touch he let his head droop forward just a little. It was enough encouragement that you continued to stroke up his bicep. You let your hand rest on his shoulder for a moment, watching, reading his body. His breathing had slowed but his fists still pressed hard against the table.

“My darling,” you smiled at him. You tilted your head to try to read his face. “What has happened?” He didn’t look up at you, but closed his eyes and growled. He straightened so swiftly that you snatched your hand away.

“My brother,” he finally turned to look at you. “Rabban is useless and has wasted so much time on these… Fremen.” He spat the final word.

You took a step closer to him. You held his gaze as you reached to stroke his perfectly smooth neck, your thumb caressing the back of his jaw, just below his ear. His brow began to relax but his jaw was still clenched tight with rage and frustration.

“You can make up for lost time,” you spoke low and soft. “You can correct his mistakes.”

“I have already taken steps to do so. We have begun preparations to burn them out of their rat holes.” His jaw relaxed slightly. You moved your hand further up his neck, fingers stroking the back of his head. He nearly closed his eyes as he pressed his head lightly into your palm.

Feyd exhaled and looked at you. His black teeth glinted as his lips parted, not in a smile, in something more like a sneer. You knew that look. He narrowed his eyes. Suddenly his hand was on your throat, his thumb pushing your chin up slightly. You smiled at him. He held you this way, not squeezing, for a moment before he leaned in and kissed you. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. Feyd was hungry, needy, searching for control.

You gave it to him. You slid your other hand up his chest to his neck and pressed your body against his. You let his tongue rove in your mouth as you moaned quietly. Feyd’s hand slid from your throat to your neck. His other hand gripped your waist firmly. When he pulled away you were more than a little breathless and lightheaded. He grinned at you. He moved your hands off his body and surprised you when he knelt.

He began to slide your pants off your hips and chills spread over your body. He guided you to step out of them. Then he slid his hands up the back of your thighs and cupped your ass in his hands. He flicked his eyes up to you briefly. You licked your lips.

Feyd placed his lips against you, his tongue flicking out lightly to taste you. You grasped the edge of the table as you felt a shiver run up your spine. You tried to watch him, watch his perfect lips on you, but your eyelids were heavy. He licked again. His breath was hot on your skin. When he took you into his mouth you did close your eyes. Your legs shook as he sucked and licked every part of you. He made the most lewd sounds, moaning and growling between your thighs.

You instinctively placed your free hand on his head as the tension in your core tightened. You felt his silent laugh vibrate through you. You were nearly panting with pleasure. Feyd’s hands roamed across your backside, fingers dipping under, between, anywhere he wanted. The sloppy, obscene sounds he made combined with the deft movements of his tongue fueled the heat in your belly. You felt muscles start to clench and relax, clench and relax. He held you steady with one hand on your ass and moved the other to explore where his lips and tongue could not reach. He stroked rhythmically against the exact spot he knew would unravel you.

“Oh Feyd,” you groaned. You stroked his head, trying not to press him hard against you. “I’m so close. Shit. I’m close.” He hummed in response. The feeling of that sound was almost enough to finish you. Then he stopped, leaned back, and looked up at you. You opened your eyes as you dropped your hand from his head. The sudden loss of his mouth from your skin was agony. But the look on his self-satisfied face, those glistening wet lips, his tongue languidly licking them… you had never seen anything as beautiful in your life. He raked his hand across his lips, wiping off the mess. You grinned.

He stood without speaking. His eyes glinted with something almost mischievous and you could see his erection straining against his pants. You swallowed dryly. Then he grabbed you by the hips and turned you to face the table. The force of the movement made you slap your palms on the table’s surface.

“Good,” Feyd growled from behind you. You grinned and shuddered. You could feel his eyes appreciating your exposed position. Then you heard him unfasten his pants. You leaned forward and placed your forearms on the table, giving him a better view. He groaned quietly as he watched. Then he spit on his hand and you could hear him stroking his cock.

Feyd took one step toward you and grabbed your hip. He stroked a few more times then positioned himself at your entrance. He moved his hand to your other hip as he slid in. So very slowly. He exhaled a sound that wasn’t quite a sigh. It was a sound of immense pleasure and familiarity. He pulled out slightly and then slid in just a bit deeper, once, twice more, until he was balls deep inside you. He stayed there for a moment. Your eyes were closed, forehead almost resting on the tabletop. You had been murmuring his name and obscenities until he paused.

He pulled almost all the way out and then pushed back into you fully with one stroke. You moaned, open-mouthed. He slid one hand up your back as he repeated the motion. Then he leaned forward just enough to grasp your shoulder for leverage. His cock went further than you thought possible as he pulled you back into his hips. You breathed his name.

At the sound of his name, Feyd began to pound into you. You gasped with almost every stroke. They were deep and long. He began to quicken the pace and you managed to glance over your shoulder. His eyes were focused intently on his cock disappearing inside you. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth. He liked what he saw immensely. You groaned and clenched around his cock. He fucked you harder for that and you let your head drop between your shoulders. The movement of your bodies and the sound of skin against skin were overwhelming. Your panting moans and Feyd’s quick breaths made the heat in your core build and twist. Like the tightening of a spring, you felt your climax building.

He slid his hand from your hip, up your side, and around to your chest. He all but slumped against your back, leaving no space between your bodies, as he pumped harder, faster into you. He tapped a booted foot at the inside of your ankle, signaling you to spread your legs wider. You did. He adjusted his hips and you made an unintelligible sound with his next stroke. It may have been his name, it didn’t matter, his cock hit a spot that made you feel as if you might lose your mind if you didn’t come soon.

Feyd growled with approval at the sounds he brought from you. He made his own delicious noises as he sped up. His grunts pushed you closer to the edge. You felt the coiling, tugging beginnings of your climax. Feyd also felt it, from deep inside you.

“Come for me,” just above a whisper, his voice full of gravel. “Come on my cock for me.” His words broke the dam holding you back. You gasped and cursed. He thrust his cock through the tightening of your muscles as you came. He was relentless. Your mind went blank and you squeezed your eyes closed.

“Fuck!” you yelled as your climax shook you. You leaned heavily against the table for support. Feyd didn’t hesitate or slow. He chased his climax as fiercely as he had brought about yours. The force of his thrusts pushed you closer to the table. You tried to brace yourself but could barely muster the strength.

Feyd barely pulled out at all; short, quick, deep thrusts were what he needed. His fingers dug into your flesh for purchase, leverage, in order to achieve the release he was so close to. You were nearly delirious listening to his muttering and groaning. Then you felt the rhythm falter. His strokes were barely strokes at all, his cocked stayed buried almost completely inside you. On one last thrust he stayed deep in you, his cum spilling out, warm between you.

You gasped as he said your name and ground his hips against you. You were panting, slightly dizzy from overstimulation. His breathing was loud from behind you, but slowing. You dreaded the inevitable: he would pull away from you and the empty feeling would seem, momentarily, stronger than the aftershocks of your climax. You didn’t whimper as he pulled out of you. You bit down on your lip and let your head drop back to the table.

Feyd chuckled. You looked at him as you slowly straightened up. He was tucking his cock back in his pants. You shot him a playfully suspicious glance.

“Thoroughly ruining you always improves my mood.” He grinned as he watched you stand shakily. He took your chin in his hand, between thumb and forefinger, and kissed you quickly and deeply. He pulled back and looked in your eyes. You smiled at him. His face was relaxed, all of his frustrations spent inside you.

Masterlist (with more Feyd)

#other peoples writing #feyd rautha #HEHEHEHEHE #SOOO GOOD!!!

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