#ameond targaryen

[myladysapphire]

His Sapphire Princess (I)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 2,866

CW: mummy issues, childish teasing, incest

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire charecters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all charecters are his except for my OC                     

                                Visenya

Her mother was once again in labour. Visenya was the eldest of three. With two brothers and two uncles, she often found herself surrounded by boys. Her Aunt Heleana was often her only escape and even then, bugs seemed more interesting to her. She had longed for a baby sister and loved the idea of dressing her up like a doll and teaching her everything she knew. She often felt lonely,  her brothers were often off with their eldest Uncle Aegon, trying their hardest to impress him. She missed the days when they longed for her satisfaction or happiness over any task, she asked them to do. And now they focused their attention on tormenting her other Uncle Aemond.

Aemond was her dearest friend, having both had eggs that didn't hatch in the cradle they found a way to bond through that. And later their love for the histories of old Valyria and learning High Valyrian.

One was never without the other, that was until she finally claimed her dragon.

When she was six, she went to Dragonstone for the first time. There she made it her mission to claim a dragon. She did not mind which, but she was determined to do so. Having given up much sooner than Aemond on her egg ever hatching, she concluded that she would claim a dragon, and if Aemond wished, she would happily share a dragon with him.

It was no easy feat, she snuck off in the dead of night and rode on horseback (a horse double her size, barely hanging on for dear life) to the dragon mount. Nine dragons resided on Dragonstone, her mother's; Syrax, her brothers; Vermax and Arrax, her father's; Seasmoke, the three wild dragons; Sheepstealer, Greyghost and the cannibal (though she would never think of attempting to claim them), and then there was Vermithor and Silverwing. She believed her best bets were lied with one of them, wild dragons being far too risky for a mere child. There were also several hatchlings and young dragons, but she wanted a grown one. A dragon to strike fear and build her respect.

She was a princess and the heir to the iron throne, after her mother. And riding a dragon fit for a king or a queen is a sure-fire way to build her some support, if not fear to stop any usurpation.

So, when she came face to face with Vermithor, she knew he would be hers.

She sang him a Valyrian lullaby, A song her mother often sang to one of her brothers. She almost giggled at the motion, the bronze fury, wooed by a lullaby. But she had heard stories of dragons being lulled into submission by a song, she hoped it would attract his attention, and lure him out.

It did.

Though she did not anticipate him letting a monstrous roar into her face, a fire built in his throat.

"Umbagon, gīda"

Wait, calm.

He stopped, his head lowered, sniffing her. She refused to show her fear, refused to cry. "Dohaerās" she stuttered.

Serve

His head lowered further, edging closer to her face. He sniffed her, letting out a grumble. "Dohaerās" she let out again, this time her voice firm.

His body lowered; his face approached hers. She reached her hand out to stroke him, rubbing at his nose.

"kessa ao ivestragī nyke kipagon ao?" she questioned, hand still stroking him.

will you let me ride you?

His eyes homed in on her, taking in her every movement. Assessing her.

He moved his head forward gently, softly nuzzling her, or at least as much as a dragon could. She took that as a yes and moved forward slowly. Her hand not leaving him. whether to reassure her or him, she did not know. She stoked along his side gently. Moving forward to the ladder to his saddle.

"ok" she muttered to herself, reaching forward to grab the ladder "don't fall, don't fall" she moved up slowly, holding her breath. Making it onto the saddle, he let out a slight shake. Not enough to throw her off, but enough to hurry up. It seemed as if Vermithor was eager to let his new mount fly him.

She sat down slowly, grabbing the reins, "sōvegon".

fly

His ascension was fast, somewhat graceful. Unlike her mother's dragon, he did not glide into the air, sweet and graceful. No Vermithor flew. He flapped his wings to their full length, showing off his size and power. Vermithor wanted to dominate the sky and show his power. He was loud, roaring as if to announce his presence. At first, she thought it was to strike fear and warn other dragons off, but by the quick company of Silverwing, she knew it was a call.

The mated dragons roared upon each other's presence. And then they began to sing. They moved around each other, their voices echoing their movements.

They flew and moved around each other.

She realised then that with one came the other. Much like she and Aemond, perhaps he could claim Silverwing. And they could be like their first riders, she hoped.

She wasn't sure how long they flew, by the time she had even claimed Vermithor the sun had begun to rise, and her parents must be starting to worry. But she could not find it in her to care. They landed outside the entrances to the castle and were quickly greeted by her parents.

"Muña, Kepa" she shouted in greeting. "I claimed him, Muña" she let out excitedly.

"I saw, my love." Her mother spoke, her tone wavering between stern and happy. She knew her mother could not stay mad at her for long, especially with how happy she was.

Her father let out a laugh, "We saw, sweetheart, but you can't keep sneaking out" he tried to say sternly, though his pride shone through his eyes.

"I know, it won't happen again" she muttered, lying.

"hmm" her mother spoke, clearly not believing it "you know, when you lie you look at your feet"

"sorry" she squeaked out, before seeing Jace, her younger brother (by ten moons) run out.

"Senya!" he shouted.

"Did you see? Did you see?" she asked excitedly, as Jace ran up to her and hugged her.

"Yes! Can you take me riding?" he questioned excitedly, Vermax being only four was nowhere near large enough to ride.

"of course," she spoke quickly wrapping her arms around him and spinning in a circle.

Her mother cleared her throat "not until you are older" she spoke " and you missy, will have to hold off on the riding until the dragon masters deem you ready".

Shouts of discontent rang between the two children, "but you claimed Syrax was around my age, and you were allowed to ride her!"

"Yes, but Syrax was much smaller, and Vermithor is much bigger" her mother spoke, pride in her tone when speaking of her dragon.

Visenya only hoped for a bond like her mother and her dragon had.

Ever since claiming her dragon Aemond had tried to distance himself from her. His jealousy strong and their relationship. But she refused to put up with Aemonds actions. Dragging him along with her to meet Vermithor, trying to get Silverwing to bond with him. She did not, but the notion alone made all jealousy he felt disappear. She continued in her efforts to find him a dragon to claim, and whenever he wanted, she would take him out on Vermithor.

If the people of KingsLanding thought, they were close before, then this was a whole new thing.

Alicent, her grandmother, had always liked her. Found her sweet and adored how she cared for Aemond.

Everyone in KingsLanding enjoyed the young princess.

They did not however like her brothers.

At first, she didn't understand, still believing that Ser Laenor was their father. That was until she met Ser Harwin strong. Seeing the way her mother looked at him, the way he looked towards Jace and Luke. The way he had taken her under his wing also and treated her as if she were his own. She knew he was her brother's father, not hers. But neither was Laenor. But she still loved him like he was and treated him as if he was. She was his favourite (another reason for the court to believe she was his) and she was always by his side, and always felt such sorrow when he went off to battle in the steppestones.

She did feel some envy of her brothers, though Ser Harwin loved her as much as he did her brothers, even sneaking off to teach her how to defend herself and swordplay, she could not shake the feeling of jealousy.

Her mother, as much as she loved her, always had a look of resentment when she saw her. She assumed it was because she looked like her father. A man she had no idea who he was a man she could only assume her mother loved. Her mother favoured her brothers, she knew it, lived with it, and resented it. All because she looked like a man whom she had never met. Though being named her mother's heir did quench some of the envy she felt, it still wasn't enough.

Her mother may always be there for her, that was no lie. But unlike with her brothers, there was a hesitance to it.

That was another reason why she wanted a sister, perhaps a sister would understand why she felt the way she did and be treated the same as she was.

But she understood she wouldn't be, no her siblings would all come from a man who loved her mother, and her mother loved back. A man who stuck around.

So, when she overheard, she had a brother, no surprise was seen on her face as she understood nothing would change. That she would be fourth on her mother's list of priorities.

Loved just as much as her brothers, but a hesitance to it.

"Muña" she called, walking down the hallway, towards her mother's chambers.

She had promised her mother she would be there for the birth, wanting to act as support and learn one day what would be a part of her own life (a fact her mother never let her forget).

She ran up to her, quick to greet her new baby brother, her brothers will be very pleased. Her father quickly appeared from another entrance, causing her to run straight into him "ugh, Kepa! Watch where you are going" she groaned, rubbing her nose

He chuckled softly "sorry, little love"

"My, my what happened to you!" her mother exclaimed, "if memory, serves you'd said you'd be her for the birth of the babe?"

She offered a sheepish smile, "Sorry mother, Vermithor wanted to go flying, ask him yourself" nodding her head, it was true to some degree, she wanted to go flying and Vermithor was more than eager to comply.

Her mother hummed in response.

"A boy! I've just heard" her father finally spoke, happily.

"Yes," mother said through pained breaths.

"Can I name him, this time mama?" she said begged. She had a very long list of names and was more than prepared to give her brother a fitting name. as much as she loved Jace and Luke, she hated their names.

Her father patted her head and said "it's up to you mother, love" before turning to her "well done, where are you going?"

"She wants to see him." Her mother hissed, walking shakily up the stairs.

She?

Alicent?

She Shook her head, Alicent had four babes of her own, surely she understands how painful birth is. She rolled her eyes. Perhaps she was getting too old. She was a grandmother after all!

"Now? I'm coming with you"

"Me too!"

"I should hope so," her mother remarked, bitterly.

"Can I hold him, Muña?" she asked, seeing her mother struggling.

Her mother looked down at her and nodded, grateful for the small rest it gave her "of course, my sweet girl"

Her father quickly offered her his arm, which was taken gratefully.

She looked down at her brother, he had the same nose as Luke, brown hair and what she could make out brown eyes. A shame. She had hoped for at least one silver-haired sibling. She was starting to feel like the odd one out.

"Was it terribly painful"

Both mother and daughter turned to look at the other and rolled their eyes.

"I took a lance through the shoulder once," he remarked, unaware of his wife and daughter's actions.

"My deepest sympathies" her mother hissed.

She was completely enchanted with her newest brother, despite his plain features, and simply choose to ignore her father and his attempts at comforting her mother, giving the babe forehead kisses, and cooing at how cute he was, but stopped upon realising he was covered in blood let out a disgusted snort. Her mother chuckled thinking it was directed at her father.

The halls were crowded with court members. Awaiting to see the newest prince. some to see if her mother had had another child sired by her father or another bastard.

Stopping for several members of the court to offer their congratulations to her mother before reaching the queen's chambers. She handed over her brother before bidding her parents farewell.

Whatever was about to happen, she had no desire to see.

And spotting Aemond walking through the corridors meant she didn't want to stick around for much longer.

"AEMOND!" she shouted, running up to him "I have another brother!"

He rolled his eyes, an action he tried to keep from her "hmmm" he said, not caring too much. She and he were walking down the corridor heading towards her family chambers.

"Congratulations Visenya! Oh, that's great news Visenya!" she mocked, putting on a deeper voice.

"Ha Ha, very funny" he spoke, unamused. Arms crossed.

"What does it even matter? Aren't they just another bas-"

"Do NOT-" she interrupted him; a stern look on her face. "They are my brothers, and that is all that matters" she spoke, tone hard, tired of Aemond's attitude. "If you're going to speak about this is will take my leave" she stared him down. Not at wanting to leave. Aemond always apologised, he hated it when he received the silent treatment from her and was often quick to apologise to prevent it.

"Sorry, Senya" he looked down. "what's his name?"

"I don't know, I have ideas, but mother probably won't listen to them!" she let out frustrated "it'll probably be some stupid name like Rhacearys or something!"

They had come up to her family chambers now, the door opened as Ser Harwin and her brothers walked in placing a dragon egg in a fire hearth inside.

"Brothers!" she exclaimed, walking in. Aemond stood by the doorway hesitant to enter.

"princess" Harwin greeted with a warm smile.

"Hello Harwin" she replied, hugging him.

"Senya" both her brothers exclaimed, before moving their eyes to Aemond "uncle," they said curtly, before looking at each other and giggling. Oh, they were up to something!

"Perhaps I should go" Aemond mumbled, moving to leave.

"I – but" she stuttered out, sad, he wanted to leave "I'll see you later? In our secret spot" she whispered the last part, winking terribly as she did so.

Aemond went to laugh but stopped after seeing something over her shoulder. Her brothers most likely. "of course," he mumbled.

"WAIT!" she ran up to him, giving him a quick hug. "BYE!"

Not long after his exit her mother and father entered the room, stopping her from confronting her brothers about whatever their plans with Aemond were.

"Mother look, we choose an egg for the baby" Jace spoke, as their mother moved to sit.

"That looks like the perfect one" she agreed, finally sitting in the chair to rest, as the cover on the eggs pot was lifted.

"We let Luke choose" Jace admitted, as Luke grew a proud smile and thanked him.

"Not every day an egg leaves the dragon pit, princess. I thought it best to escort the lads" Harwin spoke up, his eyes drawn to the babe in her father's arms.

"Laenor and I thank you, commander".

"Another boy, I heard. What a fine knight you are going to make, yes?" Harwin spoke towards the babe.

She stood by her father, looking down at the babe. He had been cleaned up since she last saw him. Much less blood.

"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey"

"Joffrey?" she questioned, looking between her mother and father "my list had much better names!"

"shush, now," her father whispered, patting her head and moving the babe into ser Harwin's arms.

"wasn't that your friend's name?" she questioned, looking at her father.

He gulped and nodded "Oh! Ok, it's fine then. I forgive you!" she exclaimed. Though she still hoped for a chance to rename him to something much better.

"Father, please may I hold Joffrey?" Luke spoke, trying to grab Joffrey out of Harwin's arms.

Their father tutted, moving her brothers and herself away, dismissing them to their dragon pit lessons.

next chapter

[rosemultitargaryen]

Mirror

Warnings: bondage, breeding kink, oral dem receiving, mirror sex.

Pairing: Husband!Dom!Aemond x Wife!Sub!reader. (Fem)

Summary: "watch me as i worship your body with every inch of mine." Aemond decided to show you just how much he appreciates you.

Word count: 101

The people crowded to see the newly weds at the ball. Aemond by your side, you ascend down the stairs with a worried expression. Your fingers grasped the fabric of his clothes in need of some relief from this newfound anxiety.

"Do you truly think i will let harm come your way?" Aemond's voice calms you slowly, his tone is authoritative yet gentle while his facial expressions are relaxed and fond.

"I do not...everyone is just...never mind." Your words struggle against your quivering lips.

Aemond comes to a halt, turning to stand before you with a gentle hand on your left arm. His other hand grasp your chin, lifting your gaze to his eye. The moment is brief before you notice that everyone is awaiting your arrival from the halls. You clear your throat, pushing past your newly made husband. Your hands grasp at your dress, lifting it to allow access for your legs to move more freely. Although you wish for them to take you elsewhere, you manage to make your way down the staircase by yourself.

The celebration ceremony proceeds, everyone coming to personally congratulate you. You begin to feel more self conscious, seeing these lovely young women with thin hourglass bodies. Yes, Aemond stressed to you that your body is the perfect make for him. However, your mind tells a very different tale.

"My love." His voice pulls you from your sickening thoughts, your hand on your stomach as you look up into his eye.

"Yes?" You ask innocently as if you weren't just thinking of ways to get rid of the weight.

"I can see your thoughts taking over you." Aemond pauses, taking a moment to move forward and grasp your face. "Need i give you a physical example of how much i worship your body?" Aemond rhetorically asks.

You swallow thickly. "No...Aemond leave me be." You dismiss his intentions, brushing past him.

A frown forms on his pale face, his eyebrows furrowing and eyes squinting as he watches you walk toward the washroom. Aemond takes note and waits for you outside, leaning up against the door with his hands crossed over his chest. His hair falling perfectly over his shoulders, tied back into his signature half up half down hairstyle. You walk out of the washroom, your face reddened from the tears. You bump into your husband, his frame blocking you from moving as his hands take you waist firmly.

"Aemond..." you mumble and his head tilts.

Aemond guides you to your now shared chambers. His hands grasping your back as he gently pushes you within the walls of the room. You're taken aback by his forceful actions. His head gestures toward the bed, you follow.

If you had learnt anything from your husband, disobedience is not accepted. You sit on the edge of the bed, hands places on your lap as you wait for the next command.

Aemond trails behind you, kneeling, his hands possess something of a leather consistency. You daren't question his actions, feeling the cool leather trickle down your bare arms. He unclips your gown, watching as it deliciously reveals your figure. Aemond stands and removes a cloth, revealing a mirror in front of you both therefore forcing you to look at your self bare.

"Aemond please, i can't stand to look at myself...please." Although you meant to sound stern your words came to be mere whimpers, ashamed of your body.

The leather whip trails down your front as Aemond kneels back behind you. The action elicits a moan from you, your eyes fluttering to a close as he grazes the material over your nipples. Aemond smirks, moving to your front as he kneels before you. His face is level with your entrance, the feeling of his breath against you makes your squirm.

"Behave." Aemond demands, lifting your legs over his shoulders.

His lips graze your clit, your hands flying to his hair for more control. Aemond's tongue presses against your hole, you force your hips forward.

"So eager, perhaps if you want to act like a whore you should join a pleasure house." He smirks.

The obscurity of his words makes something stir in you. Aemond works magic on you, making your head fall back in ecstasy. Slurs and moans fall from your lips like sweet nectar to Aemond's ears. His tongue laps up all you have to offer. As you are about to reach your release he withdraws his head, kissing you with hunger that overpowers his senses.

His body over powers yours, pressing you against the mattress. Your back arches as Aemond presses his erect member against your folds. You give him a look of permission before he plunges in and your eyes screw shut.

"Aemond...I.." you moan and scratch your nails down his bare back.

His thrusts are slow yet hard, knocking you further up the mattress with every thrust. His hair dangles in front of his face and you lean up to kiss his lips, the feeling of warmth fills you as he continues to snap his hips into yours.

"Ao feel raqagon nykeā million qēlossās issa jorrāelagon." Aemond slurs and you whine, feeling your climax reaching.

He continues his forceful thrusts, kissing your collarbone to add to your pleasure. You kiss his chin, beads of sweat forming on you as your breathing quickens.

"Aemond!" Your legs shake violently as his thrusts grow sloppier.

The coil snaps and you milk his cock, panting and whining as he continues to abuse your entrance for his own pleasure. Your head falls back to the pillows as you feel him release within you, pumping you with his cum. Aemond comes to a halt, making sure ever last drop is bestowed in you.

"You will look so beautiful, round with our child." He purrs.

[dreamlandcreations]

The Bastard Princess

Aemond Targaryen x Daemon's daughter!Reader

• moodboards masterlist •

You were enemies since the moment he claimed Vhagar.

He stole the dragon and you had taken his eye. Both acts are unforgivable in your book.

Being your father's daughter, your temper did not let you rest the case after the king declared it done. While they were preparing to depart, you were fuming on your own, at the beach where the only mother you knew had been buried.

Your anger attracted something dark and sinister.

When the Cannibal had emerged from beyond the cliffs, you thought you were done for but it seemed he had other plans.

After years of dreaming of it, you finally claimed a dragon. And the first thing you did was attack the traitor and the thief. It was only thanks to your father and Caraxes intervening that the young prince could escape.

Even though your wild dragon was almost the size of Vhagar, Caraxes won the fight and got away unscathed as neither you nor the beast in tune with your emotions could either hurt your beloved father or his dragon.

Daemon always cherished you, his eldest, even though you did not have his last name. Your mother was a good friend of his and his Lady wife's, who was one of the women they had fun with, in their years of freely roaming the world. Daemon Targaryen never regretted having you, he was not ashamed of you and taught you to be proud of who you are. A dragon, free even of the name that burdened him with the shackles of his first marriage. And despite loving you unconditionally and as her own, Laena agreed that you would be better off without having their name to tie you down.

You owned the monicker of the 'Bastard Princess' just as proudly as the nickname your father gave you, 'Wild Fire'.

As you grew up, you learned to control your temper but meeting with the one-eyed prince turned you both back into petty children, fighting over a dragon you never really had a desire to own and an eye that you - deep, deep, deep down - truly regretted taking.

But the king, who was still more present than anyone in his family gave him credit for, saw beyond your anger, witnessing the regret every time you realised just how much your words cut into Aemond, deeper than your blade ever could. And Viserys smiled at the glimpses he saw his son gave you when he thought no one could see.

After the little time he had spent with his extended family, the king realized that after his death there would be no stopping their fighting. He hoped, of course, that his daughter could take the throne without an issue but he was also not as blind as they thought.

Looking down on the balcony, he saw you and Helaena sitting in the garden, while his son admired you from a distance.

Viserys smiled, a decision came to his heart rather than his weary mind and he ordered the Grand Maester to him, preparing a future where his family is untied by the two of you.

None of you knew of his last declare.

Only a day after the king's death, the throne taken by his eldest son, you received a message from the Grand Maester, who was residing outside the palace, in a somewhat neutral territory, as the guest of the Tyrells'.

Mere hours after your fight with Aemond and his dragon, and almost losing Luke, you prepare to make a journey, not knowing it would change your life forever.

• moodboards masterlist •

[cardansriddle]

it's not funny how downright obsessed and feral i am over every villain ever. he's a horrible, vile, murderous man? so what? he's just misunderstood and i can fix him.

[lovelywetdreamer]

~🌸💜Punishment Time💜🌸~

Nerdy college student Ameond had enough of your cheating ways in chess. You made sure to wear a purple low-cut crop top that is one size small for you. Your breasts are basically bursting out of the top. You end up taking his knight because his eyes are too busy dining on you. When he was about to play his queen, he felt you slightly press your dainty feet against his hard-on. You could a spot forming as you rub your feet up and down his dick. Ameond has to end this game quick or he is going to end up coming in this pant. He somehow got your king. He doesn't remember how, and you can't tell him how. He immediately tore your top off and bent you over the chessboard. His hips were slamming against you so hard that some of the chess pieces fell to the ground. "Dirty whore trying to beat me with your slutty ways" he groans in your ear as his thrusts become deep and hard. You were drooling on the chessboard as your kitty was leaking on the floor. You are a mindless whore hungry for Ameond harsh thrusts and cum. He pulls your hair as he comes deep inside your tight walls.

Nunu made this wonderful and cute fanart

[helaelaemond]

(boyfriend poll here)

[roxineedstosleep]

omg i read your fic based on peakybinderss and mine’s and OH MY GOD I MAY NEED TO ASK YOUR COMPENSATION BECAUSE OF THE HEARTBREAK YOU JUST CAUSED

thank you thank you thank you 😭😭😭😭🫣

First, I adore your blog. Every time I see a post from you I get excited because I know you generate really great content.

Second. I'm a little sorry for the broken heart. Aemond made me quite angry, I had to make him pay a little for everything he was doing to Lucerys.

Now yes, a little alternative space of the whole story. (TW: Lucerys survived, but Aemond pays for all his actions. Still angst.)

Lucerys survived childbirth. But at the cost of never wanting to see Aemond again.

His older children would like to visit, the nobles would watch him walk through the corridors and gardens of the palace carrying his youngest baby. But Aemond could not be near him or his children without feeling the terrible bitter smell of hatred.

Aemond lived in part the fantasy he dreamed when he thought he was about to lose Lucerys.

He would see Lucerys raise his children, he would see how Lucerys dances full of love and joy, he would see how he handled political aspects almost perfectly, how the people and the nobles loved him. But never by his side.

Jace, that's how he named baby omega, he grew up healthy and strong. But, to Aemond's pain, Jace was never able to live with him properly.

As if life wanted to pay for every one of his sins, JAce never wanted to be near his father; he would cry like crazy just being in Aemond's arms, he would hide in the skirt of the babysitters when he was around and he would be comfortably mute when the two of them were alone.

Of course, Aemond was able to fulfill her dream of seeing Lucerys alive and with her children… but without him in the mix.

[genz420]

The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 83: Queer Customs.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part

138 - Harrenhal  

“I must thank you for inviting me, Your Grace,”

“Visenya,” Rob calls out to Visenya, gaining her attention from the food she is staring at on her plate. 

Visenya looks away from her food; she had been staring at it, hoping that the meat would magically cut itself and that the bread would rip itself apart.  Visenya didn’t want to ask Aemond or Ben to do it for her, not feeling comfortable enough in front of Rob’s wife, Alla.  

As soon as she looks away from her plate, Aemond pushes his plate to the side and takes her, doing what she wants without her having to ask.  Aemond knows Visenya well enough that she would not bruise her pride and would sooner go hungry than ask for help.  

“What?” Visenya asks as she looks between Rob and his wife.  

Alla is a beautiful woman, maybe a year older than Rob himself, but she doesn’t look like she is.  Unlike the four other people sitting at the table, it is clear that she has had a life away from violence and war and that she had also grown up where the sun shines and people spend time outdoors.  

The new lady of Riverrun is beautiful but not Visenya type and far from either Aemond or Bens.  

“Alla was speaking to you,” Rob answers Visenya as he notices that Ben puts more vegetables onto the plate in front of Aemond, who approves of the knight's actions.  

“Oh,” Visenya says before she looks at the frightened lady, offering her a kind smile.    “Sorry, I am not very used to people addressing me by those titles,”

“Should get used to it,” Ben tells Visenya as he moves across the table to pour more mead into Visenya's cup, even past the look both her and Rob give him.   “All those highborn fuckers will be calling by them soon,”

“Ben,” Rob warns, he doesn’t mind that kind of language when it is just them, but he doesn’t think his lady wife would appreciate such language.  

Alla ignores her husband's tone. Instead, she watches as Aemond moves Visenya's plate back in front of her, and instead of his hands going back to eat his food, Aemond's hand goes behind Visenya’s neck; she watches as a genuine smile graces Visenya's face as she looks at Aemond.  

Rob and Ben have a little stare-off with one another, waiting for the other to back down, and Ben gets Rob to break eye contact as he swiftly kicks the lord's shin.  Rob jumps a little in his seat before looking at Alla, who is watching Visenya and Aemond, with a smile on her face; it is obvious to anyone who even glances at the two that they are in love.   

“Sorry,” Ben apologises to Alla, pulling her attention away from the Targaryens.  “Forgive my language, my lady.  My parents died before they could teach me any manners, and both of my siblings have far worse mouths than me,”

Visenya sniffles her laugh as she watches the colour drain from Alla's face at Ben's words, and Rob just sighs as he looks down.  

“You do not need to call me by my titles.  Visenya is fine,” Visenya tells Alla, gaining her attention.  She wants the lady to feel welcomed and knows it will take some time for the lady to get used to the trio dynamic, just like it had taken Aemond some time to get used to it.  

“Are you sure?” Alla asks, not wanting to offend Visenya and there forth Aemond as well.  

Like many others, the prince scares Alla, always quiet and watching.  Alla has heard the stories about what is under the eyepatch, how he has no eye and only takes it off in a battle to scare and shock his enemies.  Aemond has only spoken to Alla a handful of times, often when he has come to relieve her of watching his children, but each time Alla is quick to leave the room, not to anger the man.  The one time she had stayed in the room longer than usual, Aemond seemed to be a different person with his children, and now Alla can see that he is the same as Visenya.  

“Indeed, you married Rob, so you are family,” Visenya answers Alla as she picks some of the bread off her plate, and Aemond watches her closely.  

“I must ask how my father is?” Alla asks Visenya.  She has been worried about her father and brother since the news of Visenya travelling to the Reach, worried they might have gotten hurt because of the fighting.  

Visenya swallows the lump in her throat at the mention of the Reach.  Even if Daeron had stabbed her, she can’t imagine how the prince must be dealing with losing his dragon.  If either Morghon or Cannibal had been hurt, much less killed, then she wouldn’t know what to do.  Aemond shifts in his chair, he loves his brother, but when he gets his hands on him for hurting Visenya, he will no longer be the crippled brother.  

“Good, from what I can remember.  Highgarden is a truly beautiful place, and the Reach only matches that beauty,” Visenya answers, biting back the memory of Daeron’s betrayal.   “Perhaps after this, all is over. Then I might give you a ride there,”

Rob looks at Visenya, he wants so badly for Alla and his friends to get along, but he knows that they can be overwhelming and don’t usually follow traditions or what is proper.  Visenya and Aemond had been good so far, keeping their hands to each other for the most part, but as Aemonds hand moves away from the back of Visenyas neck and disappears under the table, Rob can’t help but worry.   

“On dragon's back?” Alla asks, and Visenya nods; she knows that riding a dragon is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and not many people would turn it down.  

“Morghon is gentle and looks far scarier than he is,”  Visenya assures Alla before looking at Rob.   “Your husband has flown on him multiply times,”

“You never told me that,” Alla tells Rob and the lord looks at his wife, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.  Alla had already been worried about how close Rob and Visenya are, and the fact that he didn’t tell her about going on a dragon ride with Visenya might not have been the best choice.  

“Nyke pendagon issa isse,” Aemond whispers to Visenya, his lips brushing, and Visenya leans back in her chair as she looks at Aemond.  

I think he is in trouble.

Visenya bites back her smile as she feels Aemonds fingers tap against the skin of her thigh, she knows that if anyone were to see them, they would be appealed by the action, but that just thrilled her more.  

“Kesā sagon hae sȳrī lo aōha ondos daoriot keligon,” Visenya tells Aemond, her voice above a whisper, and she can see Ben choke on his drink before looking to the two Targaryens.  

You will be as well if your hand doesn't stop.

Aemond pulls his hand away from Visenya before finally picking at the food on his plate, he knows that it is risky to be so bold, but the way his heart was thumping did something to him.  

Alla looks away from Rob and towards Visenya and Aemond, making Visenya think that the lady was somehow fluent in Valyrian and had heard what they were saying.  

“Is that Valyrian?” Alla asks. She had never heard the language before, but it was almost intoxicating to listen to it.  

“Yes.  Forgive my husband and me; we tend to slip into it often,” Visenya answers; she doesn’t want to make Alla feel unwelcomed because she and Aemond are talking in a language she doesn’t know. 

“It is a beautiful language,” Alla compliments as she picks up her cup.  “Who taught you both?”

“I learnt from the maester,” Aemond answers first.  

“My father and grandsire,” Visenya tells Alla; part of her doesn’t know if Aemond would react at the mention of the late king or the fact that he would take the time to teach her but not him.  

“Are there any little pet names that you two have?” Alla asks, the language is interesting, and she hopes that one day she will be able to learn it.  She had heard Aemond calling the twins by a few different terms and them calling him “Kapa” and often asking for “muña.”  

“Ñuha dōnas and Perzītsos for Laenor and Daenys,” Visenya answers, enjoying answering questions.  “They mean ‘My sweets’ and ‘Little Flame’.  My father used to call me Ñuha dōnas,” 

Visenya smiles slightly at the memory, and the three men look around the table at one another.  It wasn’t often that Visenya would talk about Laenor, even with Aemond, so her sharing details with Alla surprises them.  

Alla looks at Aemond, noticing that he has been silent for the most part, but she wants to know the terms he calls the twins.  

“And you, Prince Aemond.  Have any little nicknames?” Alla asks, and the prince takes a moment before smiling at himself.  

“Ñuha dōna orvorta for her Grace,” Aemond answers, and Visenya looks at Aemond with wide eyes.  

“Aemond!” Visenya scolds Aemond as Ben booming laughter echoes in the room.  Aemond sits back in his chair with a small smile as he looks at Visenya, almost innocently asking what is wrong with his words.  

Rob watches Ben trying to stop himself from laughing, but the knight's face and neck are red as he covers his mouth as looks down at his plate.  Alla looks between the three people that can speak Valyrian, wanting to know what Aemond has said, and from the fact that Visenya's neck is flushed, she can tell that the name isn’t a sweet nickname. 

“What does it mean?” Alla asks as she watches Ben clear his face from the trees that are running down his face.  

“I wouldn’t want to sully your ears with my husband's words,” Visenya answers as she looks away from Aemond and back to Alla.  “And to think I used to teach you the language,”

“I thought the maesters taught him,” Alla tells Visenya.  

“Yes, but I used to try and teach it to him, do you remember?” Visenya asks Aemond, looking towards him, but Aemond just looks at Visenya, admiring her in the warm light of the candles around the room.  

“I do remember after I used to help you with your sword fighting,” Aemond recalls, his lips turning up at the memory.  

“By Blackwater Bay,” Visenya adds, not hiding her smile like Aemond.  

“So you both grew up together?” Alla asks, wanting to know more about their relationship. 

“For a few years, and then after my brother, Joffrey, was born, then I had to leave for Dragonstone,” Visenya answers; she doesn’t know how she feels talking about her childhood.  She misses it, issues similar times, and doesn’t want to think that she will never see her little brother again or her grandmother.  

Talking about her childhood would also lead to talking about her father, and as much as Visenya doesn’t want to admit it to herself, she doesn’t remember much of her father.  She can barely remember what he looks like and only remembers his specific memories.  

“And what did you prefer?” Alla asks as she picks at her food.  “King’s Landing or Dragonstone?”

“I felt at home where he was,” Visenya jokes as she looks at Aemond, and she can hear Ben make a gagging sound as she looks back at Alla.  “But I always felt at home on Driftmark,”

Alla looks between Visenya and Aemond, the prince judging Ben before returning to his food.  Alla can’t help but find it weird, it is clear how much they love each other, but to the rest of Westeros, the customs of the Valyrian houses are strange and not something they would do.  Alla can even stomach the thought of marrying her brother or uncle, but to the Targaryens, it means nothing.  

“You two don’t find it weird?” Alla asks, letting her curiosity get the better of her, and Rob watches Alla, wondering what she means.  

“What weird?” Visenya asks, not knowing if she is talking about the fact that she thinks Driftmark is her home or something else. 

“That you are, you know, what niece and uncle?” Alla asks, and both Visenya and Aemond shift uncomfortably at her words. 

“Oh,” Visenya says, and Rob and Ben look at each other.  Not once have they ever dared mention the relationship, Visenya had explained to them how it is different for them years back, and it took some time, but they understand it now.  

“Hmm,” Aemond says as he stares down Alla, making the lady shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze.  Rob likes his wife, and he can tell Aemond is very close to ending her life for her words. 

“Alla,” Rob warns Alla, making her look at her husband before returning to the two Targaryens.  

“Forgive me, I just-”

“Targaryens have queer customs, so no,” Visenya cuts Alla off; she knows that people not part of the Valyrian house do not understand, and the way Alla looks at her makes her feel ashamed.  

“Something I will have to get used to,” Alla says, and Visenya looks back at her.  

Visenya and Aemond had made a deal with Rob to unite their houses, and they couldn’t do that unless Rob had a child.  Now that he has a wife, they had been expecting news of Alla being with child for a while.  

“She is with child?” Visenya asks Rob, and Ben looks between Alla and Rob, looking at her still flat stomach with narrows eyes like if he tries hard enough, then he might be able to see the babe in her stomach.  

“We were planning on telling-”

Neither Ben nor Visenya allows Rob to finish his sentence before they are both out of their chairs and barreling towards the Lord with no regard for their safety.   Ben reaches Rob first, pulling the lord out of his chair before Visenya tackles them both; the force and unexpected weight of Visenya makes both Rob and Ben stumble on their feet, with Ben readying himself to take the full force of the group once they feet the ground.  

“Visenya!” Aemond shouts as he stands out of his chair, worried that Visenya might have hurt herself or one of her past injuries.  

Alla looks away from the prince, not used to the sheer amount of emotion and the reaction from the once quiet and reserved prince, and to her Lord husband and his friends, who are on the ground laughing on top of one another.  Aemond quickly moves around the table and towards the group, Ben now helping Visenya and Rob up off the ground.  

“You little fucker, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Visenya asks, all sense being proper in front of Alla gone.  

“We are at war?” Rob answers, but his voice is filled with uncertainty.  He had wanted to wait until Alla was in the clear about not having a miscarriage, but she had told Rob that they were going to say to his friends tonight.  

“Horseshit- Aemond, I am fine,” Visenya tells Aemond as she feels Aemond feel over her stomach and arms for any sense of her being hurt. “This is amazing news,”

“Trying naejot mazverdagon ñuha prūmia keligon.  Daor concern syt aōha, sepār hae skori īlin riñar,” Aemond whispers to Visenya as he holds onto her waist; he is not going to let her go again.   

Trying to make my heart stop—no concern for your own safety, just like when we were children. 

“I’m fine,” Viseenya assures Aemond as she gives him a quick kiss on his cheek.   “Kostilus ao should gūrogon hen ñuha grēza sepār naejot mazverdagon sure,”

You should take off my dress to make sure.

“Now I will throw up,” Ben mumbles to himself before he pulls Rob in for another hug.  

Visenya looks away from Aemond and toward Alla, who seems still startled by the commotion.  Visenya smiles at the lady as she tries to walk towards her, but Aemond doesn’t let go of her, keeping his hands snugly on Visenya's hips.  Visenya rolls her eyes at Aemonds actions but turns her body towards Alla as she leans back on Aemond.  

Visenya and Aemond let out a hum of contentment as she does so, and the grip on her only tightens.  Aemond feels he can’t let her go, or she might hurt herself again.   

“Congratulations, My Lady,” Visenya tells Alla as she offers her a kind smile.  She knows what it is like to be happy but overwhelmed at the news of a pregnancy.  

“Thank you,” Alla thanked Visenya as she stands up from her chair, and Rob rangles his way out of Ben's hug to go to her side.  “I look forward to our family becoming one,”

Aemond stiffens at her words, yes, both he and Visenya had agreed with Rob that they would unite their houses, but it is too soon for him to think of one of his children leaving to marry someone.  Visenya feels Aemond stiffens and leans more onto Aemond, her hands resting on his.  

“It already is,” Visenya assures Alla.  

– – 

“What's wrong?” Visenya asks Aemond as she looks around the table for some more mead; the night at long since died with Ben,  Rob and Alla going back to their rooms for the night, but Aemond hadn’t seen as eager to return to their shared bed chambers.  

The truth is that Aemond was enjoying watching Visenya putter around the warm room, often watching her chest rise and fall with each breath and the soft hum as she walked.  He knows that when they return to their room, she will want to go to bed, but Aemond wants to spend as much time with Visenya as he can.  

“Hmm,” Aemond answers, and Visenya stops walking, looking towards Aemond before stepping in front of him and giving him a questioning look.  

Aemond looks down at Visenya, watching as she studies his face for something that would tell her what is wrong.  Visenya is used to Aemond giving other people non-verbal responses but not her.  

“Don’t hmm me,” Visenya tells Aemond as she leans her chin on his chest, looking up at him.  Aemond can’t help the small smile as he rests her hand on Visenya's hips and pulls her closer.  “Tell me what’s troubling you,”

Aemond should have known better than to try and find something from Visenya, she has always been able to tell when something is wrong, and he never wants to keep things from her.  Aemond knows 

“What if they don’t have a girl?  What if they have a boy?” Aemond asks; he knows that Rob and Alla want their child to marry one of their children, but he doesn’t want Daenys to marry Rob's child, and it was already a lot to agree for the betrothment between Aenar and their child if it is a girl.  

“I’m sure Rob is planning on having more than this child,” Visenya tells Aemond, knowing that Rob wants a large family.  For his children to have siblings, unlike him.  

“What if they want Daenys?” Aemond asks; he doesn’t want to lose his little girl.  

“Daenys is already betrothed to Rickon,” Visenya answers; even if Cregan isn’t supporting them, she wouldn’t call off the betrothment until Cregan decided to get involved.  

“And what if Rob wants us to break that and have Daenys marry his son?” Aemond asks Visenya, the possibilities are flying through his mind, and he can’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed by them.  

“We won’t,” Visenya assures him; she wouldn’t do that to Cregan and the Starks.  Visenya smiles at Aemond as she bites her lip to stop smiling.  “Or maybe we will have another daughter,”

Aemond perks up at that.  He and Visenya had agreed that Aenar would probably be their last child, not wanting to risk Visenya's life again and that Visenya didn’t like being pregnant.   But the genuine smile on her face tells him she is being serious, not a single sign that she is joking or getting his hopes up.  

“I thought you only wanted three?” Aemond finally gathers that course and his voice to ask Visenya.  

“I did, but I must say that making children is fun.  Don’t you agree?” Visenya asks Aemond, but he says nothing in return, just watching for the slightest sign that Visenya is joking or getting his hopes up.  “Why so quiet? Do you not enjoy fucking me-”

Aemond cuts Visenya off with a kiss, passionate and full of love.  The kind of kiss that some people will never get to have in their life, one that screams ‘I love you’ without words and sends shivers through the receiver's body.  Aemond isn’t always great with his words, but he can show Visenya just how much he loves her.  

Visenya can’t help but giggle against Aemonds lips, the tight, bruising grip on her hips sends pleasure through Visenya, and she doesn’t care that her handmaidens will give her questioning looks when they help bathe her.  She would rather Aemond help than some women she doesn’t know.  

“You have a wicked tongue,” Aemond breathlessly tells Visenya as they nudge through noses together.  

Everything about Visenya is intoxicating.  From her wild nature to the fact that she never seems to listen to Aemond when it concerns her health and safety.  Her smell, her taste, how she feels around his cock.  Aemond loves anything about her, from the scars on her body to the marks she has gotten from her pregnancies.  

“I do,” Visenya agrees as she slightly moves her face away from Aemonds.  “Tell me how much you enjoy it,”

Aemond waits a moment, thinking about what he could say to shock his wife or stun her for a moment.  Aemond moves off from leaning on the table and moves so that Visenya is the one doing so.  Aemond gently pushes Visenya against the table, making her move up to sit on it, her dress riding up her legs and the silt exposing her legs.  

Aemond moves to stand between her legs, one hand going to the newly exposed skin.  His callused and scarred are rough against the smooth skin of her thigh; Aemond uses his other hand to take off his eye patch, knowing that Visenya hates when he wears it when they are intimate.  

Aemond could bend her over this table and fuck her like she was a common whore, and he knows that she would thank him after.  That she would be a good girl and take him perfectly.  Or he could worship her body and treat her like the Queen she is.  So many possibilities and opportunities to have his wife however he wants.  

“Hmm,” Aemond answers as he moves his hand up Visenya's body to push her further up the table.   “Want me to tell you how much I enjoy fucking you and how much pleasure that tongue brings me when I have your mouth stuffed full of my cock.  How I wished I could lock us in our chambers so that I could fuck you until it was obvious that you are a whore for my cock?”

Visenya had not been expecting Aemond to answer her, she had wanted to tease him and then maybe have him sit down so that she could ride him, but now she understands that she would most likely not do that.  That Aemond would be the one to take control tonight.  

Aemonds hands are quick to push Visenya's dress down her shoulders, and if they were in their chambers, then he would have just ripped the front of the dress, but he knows that they have to leave this room, and he doesn’t think that Visenya would want to walk around the halls without a dress.  

Aemond smirks as Visenya helps push the top of her dress down, giving Aemond accuse to her chest.  Aemond moves his head down and into the crook of Visenyas neck; the warmth of her skin is pleasant against his already warm face.  Visenya happily moves her hair over her shoulder and moves her head so Aemond has more room.  

If anyone were to walk into the room, they would see Aemond with his head buried in Visenyas neck while his fingers play with her nipple and group her breast.  Visenya's head back as she pulls Aemond closer to her body.  

“Qogralbar,” Visenya whimpers to herself, but that doesn’t satisfy Aemond.  

Fuck.

Aemond pulls his lips away from Visenya, admiring the already red marks on her red that match the previous marks he had inflicted on her neck the day prior.  What makes Aemond's breeches tighter is that Visenya never seems to cover them up, not with her clothes or hair.  That she wears them with pride, and when those lords look at her, they know that he is the one that just to fuck her and make her feel pleasure, not them.  

Visenya lets out a noise of displeasure as Aemond removes his hands from her breast and takes a step away.  Tits out and a pout on her lips, his eyes flicker between the scar on her lip that matches his and her chest.   

“Fuck what?” Aemond asks, teasing Visenya.    “Want me to fuck your mouth or your cunt? Or do you want me to fuck you with my tongue until you are shaking and begging for my cock,”

“Now, who is the one with the wicked tongue?” Visenya asks as she tries to grip Aemond's jacket to pull him back to her.  

Visenya pulls Aemond down to her level and captures his lips with hers, a kiss full of need and Aemond gently pushes Visenya to lie against the somewhat empty table.  His hands move to his hands to her hips. She is just resting on the table, and Visenya wraps her legs around his waist, pulling Aemond closer to where she needs him.  

Aemond lets go of Visenya's hips and grabs onto her wrists, moving to pin them beside her head but careful enough not to hurt her.  Aemond pulls away from the kiss, but Visenya tries to kiss him again.  

“Ao gīmigon Avy jorrāelan, paktot?” Aemond asks, and Visenya laughs slightly as she rests her head on the table.  

You know I love you, right?

“Nyke gīmigon,” Visenya answers as she kisses Aemond again, smiling against his lips. “Avy jorrāelan tol��,”

I know.  I love you too.  

Taglist: If you wish to be added to taglist please comment so!

@tempt-ress @kassies-take

[thewitchthattellstales]

She knew. She was ready, but nothing could ever prepare a woman for it. For the violation she has to agree upon or else she will be stigmatized with rumors that were nothing close to the truth. 

the legend of the fire flower and the one eyed prince

[mslothbrok]

Ewan young! And this is too funny not to share. 😂

[drownedinlight]

Aemond Targaryen is a fantasy Slade Wilson.

[rosemultitargaryen]

Hello 💗

Could you possibly do Aemond and his wife having sex for the first time (maybe on their wedding not, it really doesn’t matter)

Intertwined.

Warnings: Oral(fem receiving), Ownership kink, public sex, pain kink, degrading, praise, edging, embarrassment, breeding kink, size kink, fluffy ending. 

Pairing: Husband!Aemond x Wife!Virgin!reader.

Word Count: 1.1K

The ceremony was beautiful, tears were shed, bonds were made. You and your newlywed husband walk throughout the crowd, edging to get to your now shared chambers.

"You look enchanting." He whispers and your stomach flips with joy and anticipation.

You two hurriedly get to your chambers, the girls wait in the secret room eager to see the bedding ceremony. Aemond allows you into the room first, his hand placed lightly on the centre of your back while he closes the door behind you both.

Nerves start to creep in, your fists clench as he guides you to the bed. Aemond slides his hands down your arms; feeling you tense, he backs up slowly.

"We needn't do this tonight." Aemond whispers softly, smoothing your hair out of your face.

"No..I'm okay, I can do this." You smile, looking up at him.

Suddenly all your nerves left as his hands landed on your face. His touch is soft and subtle enough to calm you. His lips meet yours, slowly moving with you letting you take control. A small moan leaves your lips as he grasps at your dress, tugging away at the laced back.

You are stuck for words, feeling your dress pool at your ankles. Aemond kisses down your neck to your chest, his tongue finding your nipples and swirling deliciously around them. The act elicits a moan from you; gripping at his armour, anything that will relieve some pressure.

"Mm?" Aemond gives a suggestive look and you nod before he pushes you down onto the bed.

His body towers over you as he trails kisses down your body. Your hands grip the silk sheets as Aemond moves to your weeping cunt. His lips ghosting over the part where you yearn for him the most. Your eyes flutter to a close as he places a kiss on your clit, moaning as he does it. His tongue is eager to explore, flattening against your cunt as he laps like a kitten.

"Aemond." You whine, gripping at the sheets and arching your back.

Aemond picks up the pace, making your thighs tremble while he grips them firmly. His grip is strong enough that it may leave a mark on your supple flesh. He pulls away and makes it a point to kiss your thighs and mark them, claiming you as his, marking his territory. He moves up to your lips, kissing you while thrusting against you with need.

"Please, be gentle." You plead with your husband, scratching down his back.

Aemond strokes his cock slowly, lining up with your cunt before looking you in the eyes. His thirst for you and your body are unbearable. His cock twitches in his grasp, the tip prodding at your entrance. You move down in attempts to push him in, however your eagerness is not rewarded.

"Sweet girl, patience." He coos.

Just as you are about to protest Aemond sheathed himself within you, a retching scream leaves your lips and he groans. You scrap your nails down his back as Aemond moves at a measurable pace, making your eyes tear up and your insides curdle. Your chest heavies as the pain soon turns into pleasure.

"I..." you breathlessly mumble.

"Say the word and I will stop." He groans, making your eyes roll back.

You're too lost in the pleasure to say anything, your moans and whines being the only thing to leave your lips. Aemond groans and grunts in your ear, making it harder for you to focus. He grows bored of the standard position, pulling out quickly before picking you up and handling you. He flips you on your stomach, lifting your ass up before pushing back in. You feel him deep within your stomach with the new position. You look to your left and see the people watching the ceremony, watching you as Aemond fucks you senseless. You shy away, pushing your face into the sheets while Aemond slaps your arse.

"...fuck...nmnghhh." You groan at the connection.

"...you feel incredible, such a good fucking slut." Aemond ruts into you harder with each word. The slur making you clench.

The sound of skin slapping makes you whine as you yearn for your release. Aemond grins, gripping at the dips of your hips while slamming you back against his abdomen making you feel him deeper.

"Look at you, look at the state. All needy for release." Aemond chuckles and pulls out, the loss of contact making you cry out in frustration.

"Aemond. Please." You pant.

Aemond ignored your pleads and whines, lifting you once again. He lays down, lifting you so you're sat on his thighs. Unsure, you look at him confused until you find his hips on your waist. Aemond lifts you slowly before sliding you down onto his cock, your face contorting in pleasure as he grabs your breasts softly. You feel him get impossibly deeper than before. He presses his hand against your abdomen, applying just enough pressure as he thrusts forcefully within you. Your head goes back, arching your back and rolling your eyes.

"You look incredible all stuffed with my cock, I can't wait to see you swollen with our child." Aemond coos, making your legs shake with the pace he sets.

Your nails drag down his bare chest. Aemond leans up, fucking you senseless as he bites your breasts with hunger. His tongue smooths over the bite marks littered over your bruised chest.

"Aemond." You throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity and latches on, thrusting faster as your body convulses with your orgasm.

Screams and whines are to be heard from doors away as you let the harsh ecstasy run through you, the feeling of Aemond's release fills you to the brim. he makes it a point to keep himself sheathed in you, whispering praises and coos to you while he makes you ride out your high. Strands of hair stay to your face like glue as he peels his body from yours, you yawn and roll onto the bed as you watch him walk to the washroom. The water starts running and you frown, wondering what he is doing. Aemond returns a few minutes later with a robe in hand, holding his other hand out for you to grab. Reluctantly, you attempt to stand up knowing your legs are the equivalent to jelly right now. Aemond stands and stifles a laugh, watching you go limp against him.

"Okay, not funny." You grumble and Aemond places the robe over your shoulders, giving you some coverage as the girls are still watching you from the secret room.

Your eyes avert to the ground, Aemond's hand supporting you while he walks you to the washroom. The steam from the freshly drawn bath envelopes you both when you enter the room, candles lighting your way to the steamed tub. Aemond takes the robe off your body and helps you into the bath. The water smooths over your skin, making sure to taint your flesh with the specialised fragrances.

"Take your time and relax sweet girl." Aemond strokes your hair and leaves you to bathe.

[roxineedstosleep]

I have an idea for a fic... yes.

Should I even complete the rest I have on my long waiting list? Of course I should.

I'm going to leave that list to do a one-shot of this magnificent idea..... I don't hesitate.

---------

Alys knows that all the losses in her husband's life have marked him in a distant way. She knew it, respected it and came to terms with the idea that every time her husband rode Vaghar in the morning he didn't come home the same as the night before.

She understood that. For that very aspect she loved her husband.

Now that she was expecting a baby... she wondered if she would have to explain to him the same procedure she had to go through. War was uncharted territory, no one knew, not even she with her great gifts of magical energy, what might happen with certainty on the battlefield.

She prayed, prayed and made sure that every time Aemond went out on the battlefield, he would come back with her and her future baby. And thank all the gods, the 7, the new and the old, the forgotten and the unborn, that her husband would return victorious at every crossroads where it was necessary for him to be present.

And so it was, through all the moons with which he began to grow heavier, Aemond always returned to his bed so that he could wake up and live another day. Then, when the news reached him that Aemond had almost died in the battle against his uncle, Prince Daemon... her baby kicked so hard it made her think of all that would happen if she was left alone.

But, the kicking and twisting inside her belly doesn't stop. They don't stop and that's when one of the maids warns her that she is about to give birth. The baby is about to be born while no one knows if its father is debating between life and death.

The labour drags on, as does the news of her husband's possible death on the battlefield. The contractions hurt, as does the wait for new messengers and the departure of old ones who try to give her new news. And just when she thought things couldn't get any more complicated, her baby comes into the world with a cry to the heavens, when a messenger enters with the news that her husband has survived the fighting.

Only her husband's arm had to be stitched up, she had to be watched over, and her beautiful child, who for all the turmoil could only have been caused by two Targaryen males, cried as the midwives cleaned him and tried to give him some warm milk.

For as long as she and Aemond lay in bed, making the most of those rare nights with her newborn, she could tell that Aemond kept looking at their son.

His one eye shone brightly, as if near death had given him a new ability to appreciate life, and he would not let anyone, unless it was her, take him from her arms.

He would carry the baby, rocking him with his one sound arm, sing verse after verse of old Valyrian songs; he would tuck him in carefully and not allow the wet nurses to come closer than a few paces if strictly necessary.

So great was her husband's enthusiasm for his new son, that from the first he spoke to him only in High Valyrian, and so on... until the time of uncertainty as to his baby's immediate survival in this world had passed.

"Lucerys" was all her husband repeated, as the scribes prepared the documentation to make the birth and existence of the new Targaryen offspring official "So shall his name be. Second in name, and the only son and heir to my sword and dragon."

"Only son, my lord?" asked one of the scribes, even she wondered, "Isn't it a bit soon for -"

"Only son, heir to my name and family" and after that statement, he accompanied it with a stern blow of the fist of his newly recovered arm to the table full of papers and pens "Not one more, not one less".

Alys would not deny thinking that her husband might have continued to shout about his immediate refusal to have any more children, had it not been for Lucerys, newly named as such, beginning to cry with fright in the cot near her. She couldn't even get near her own baby, because Aemond had automatically dropped everything he was about to do to run and hold her child in his arms.

*******************

Alys would sometimes wonder if her husband had suffered such trauma that he was unable to stop overprotecting his son. She knew that not all Targaryen lords were like that, but even the maester said it was not at all uncommon.

"Aemond was always a rather peculiar Targaryen, my lady," commented one of the older maesters there. "After his near-death he may be afraid that his son must soon enter the war. Give him time and he will see how he will regulate himself.

But that was not the case. Sadly not.

Lucerys, unlike any other Targaryen, was denied a dragon's egg of his own. When she wanted to ask her husband's sister, he was so enraged that the soldiers in his charge remarked through the cavalry that the enemy soldiers were wiped out in an instant.

After another attempt on his part to give his son his due, Aemond forbade any dragon breeder to go near his son or his wife.

Aemond would not allow Lucerys to take a toy sword. He would turn insane and throw it into the fire immediately. He would not let it out of his sight and would always try to distract his son with books and soft toys. But clearly Lucerys felt overwhelmed by all the attention.

Her son would try to hide as quickly as possible under her skirt as he heard Vaghar's roar approaching the palace. For, these were the moments after the war when Aemond would search almost obsessively for his son; Lucerys would weep at the sight of his father covered in blood and dirt, and try to pull away as he noticed her husband running to him and carrying him so as not to let go for hours.

"If you want our son to greet you with a smile, you should at least wipe off all the dirt," she told him when Aemond tearfully asked her one night why his son always fled her presence after arriving from the battlefield.

After that his son would be calmer in his father's presence. But he kept noticing how Aemond almost wanted to control everything Lucerys did when they were together.

The more distracted maids and knights would say he was only a first father or that he was a fool in front of his only progeny. The more observant, like her, would notice a kind of obsessive mark when Aemond looked at Lucerys in his arms.

And whether it was that kind of suffocating love, the overprotectiveness or the terror that her husband could be at times, she doesn't know, but it gave her a door to a close relationship with her son.

While other mothers complained that their children wanted nothing to do with them, Alys smiled and said that Lucerys was the most loving child and always wanted to be close to her to see the world.

Though the mischief, as she would mask to her husband, would be nothing more than secret sword training and the way she would learn all she could about dealing with dragons. If Aemond ever found out about all that, it would be all the more reason for a battle within the palace, but thanks to the war her husband had not noticed how his young son was learning all these new things.

But she herself supposes, despite all her inner prayers and deepest desires, that her husband would never be a normal father. Not after the incident.

Because one day, after a terrible storm, she, like Lucerys and every other servant and palace servant, gasped when she noticed how Aemond arrived on the grounds with his own older brother's head in one of his hands.

Aemond just grinned as if it were a puppy or a new toy for his son, and gently laid his brother's severed head on his lap (where Lucerys had stepped in terror at what he was seeing). And, as if he were not covered in blood and burns, he bent to carry Lucerys in his arms.... her husband would rip her son from her skirts, if she was more specific. 

"Don't worry my son," she would manage to understand a little, for everything he said was in High Valyrian, "There are no more threats to you or your life. Not if I can help it. I'm sorry I didn't take enough care of you before, but it won't be that way any more. I will protect you even if I must shed more of our family's blood to keep you safe and sound."

And that was the only thing Alys remembers happening. Before she fainted from shock. She would watch as her husband, all covered in blood and dirt, would gently kiss his son's forehead, while Lucerys would writhe in his father's arms trying to get away from the bloody scene.

really would love to see a fanfic where Aemond somehow survives the battle against (Luce still being dead with what happened above black water bay) , Damond while Alys is still with child, that child when born is Luce reincarnation/ reborn, Aemond immediately knew that his was nephew is now his son, and with added grieving and in pain of what he thought he lost, “the object of his ire” his obsession his version of unadulterated love with his little lord strong now a true targaryen, he vows to his Luce he will burn the whole seven and feed anyone who harms a single hair on what is his to his dragon.

… you know even if it’s a little dabble of sth like this, just spit bawling a few sentences together. i don’t have the skills to write s fic like this or this extent and if anyone wants to have a shot at this please be my guest and tag me please i beg.

[rise-my-angel]

Team Black talks a lot of a shit about everything that happened on Driftmark, as if they didn't also watch a tiny 10 year old boy claim the biggest, most battle seasoned dragon in the world like it wasn't some absolute King behavior.

[lovelywetdreamer]

🌸💜~Late Night Dirty Thought~🌸💜

The only ways to calm down an angry dragon is blow out its fire. Aemond was just having those days when everyone was getting on his nerves. He didn't mean to yelled at you when you beaten him at a card game. You decides to calm him down by sinking yourself on the fouls mood one eye prince. He needs to calm down and riding him usually do the trick. You make sure everytime you lifts yourself from him his thick tip is the only thing inside your tight grip. Before you sinks down on him, he is trying to thrusts up inside you. He can't wait for you to sink down on his meaty cock. He got to feels your heat as soon as possible. When you finally lets him feels yoir heat, he is already cumming bucket in you. A cute sloppy smile replace his angry scorn on his face.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Heyo love, can i request a smut where Mean Aemond fucks his innocent wife on the garden, please? ily ❤️

heya lovely, this idea...this holds a special place in my heart (just like you) 💓 hope you enjoy this x

A Flower to Ruin...

PAIRING: Cruel!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Tyrell!Innocent!Reader

WORDS: 2,516.

WARNINGS: mean/cruel!Aemond, degradation kink, female f*ngering, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing, NSFW. MINORS DNI.

A/N - I keep getting carried away, this was meant to be a small blurb, no plot & yet… here I am rambling away.

Having married the notorious one-eyed Prince, was a reality you did not dream possible. Although your House [Tyrell] was a meek one, it could and would gratefully offer endless wealth, a highly valued asset to the Crown, undoubtedly. Your betrothal nonetheless, was planned, a guaranteed means that further heightened the riches now shared with the newly appointed King, Aegon the Second, for the betterment of the realm.

And as romanticised as you'd dreamt of your surreal betrothal to the Prince Regent: such idyllic thoughts and daydreams that contaminated your mind, were vanquished with reality. For your husband, was a cruel man indeed...

Aemond Targaryen, was very much an unnerving man. Of all the rumours and whispers that would occasionally reach your innocent ears, of the infamous Kinslayer, you were keen to ignore such hearsay, remaining blissfully optimistic about your fiancé. However, much to your dismay, your initial impression of Aemond was one that stirred an internal debate inside: was it terror or lust that made you feel so uneasy around him?

The lingering yet blatant wound of his absent eye, although hidden beneath the feeble leather of an eyepatch, the red trail of a healed scar remained... And was somewhat chilling. Being frank to yourself, it did not falter your attraction towards him, however. He had a handsomely, chiselled face, the ethereal Targaryen features were most exemplified on him. Even from a distance, you could tell that his height would tower over you, his mass lean and toned. Just by his sheer demeanour, one could easily decipher that he was a warrior trained.

And when he spoke, he was stoic and monotonous, it seemed he was not impressed nor was he disappointed. The man was an enigma, impossible to decipher his raw emotions and pure intent. Was he pleased with you? Was he satisfied with this arrangement? Would he ultimately love you?

Overtime, in the following months proceeding the lavish, royal wedding, it remained impossible to say. Aemond, much to your relief, took pride in performing his husbandly duties. However, you'd grown familiar with his approach towards you, it was one filled with almost a sweet bitterness, gaining amusement in intimidating and humiliating you, and yet to some level he remained cautious with you, as though not to completely frighten you off. He kept you lingering for more, like bait on a hook.

It drove you mad, yet you'd never forged the courage to confront him, for fear that you would displease him enough to leave, wounding his ego. In truth, he was not a violent nor terrible husband either, he was committed. You had no plausible reason to complain. And yet, he treated you as though you were an inanimate object, his property, hurrying to his beckon call always, like some lamb to its shepherd.

Even in his absence, you had missed him. Only gone for a few days, for a hunting round with the young lords and knights of the realm, you'd disappointingly concluded that your feelings were one-sided. He did not miss you, how could he miss you? Aemond showed no sentimental attachment towards you, except that you were bound his loyal wife, before the laws of men and Gods... Or so you had convinced yourself.

****

"So I thought I'd find you here, my rose-" The sudden, abruptness of his deep voice had caught you off guard. Startling you, as you hastily cast your attention towards him from the open book resting in your lap. Slowly, he'd strolled towards you, hands firmly placed behind his back, as he found you nestled beneath a hidden canopy, sprawled on a silk, picnic duvet, across a freshly, cut grass-patch, beneath the cool shade offered by the blossom tree above.

"F-Forgive me, husband. I did not realise you had returned... Had I known I-" You stutter, as you attempt to gather yourself to stand.

Aemond stops you, surprisingly insisting you remain where you are, as he himself cowers down instead, laying himself beside you.

A few seconds of sheer silence are exchanged, as Aemond's attention shuffles from the stems of grass he distractedly picks at, to the neat, floral bushes onwards. You observe him longingly, a warmth fills your heart from his much anticipated presence, secretly embracing his return, as a thoughtless, faint smile appears on your face.

"H-How was the hunt, my Prince?" You utter, in a meek attempt to initiate some kind of conversation. Aemond looks onto you sternly, still his face remains stoic, although somewhat irritated, as he huffs in annoyance.

"Abysmal...Most of the bastards drunk, only myself, Criston and a few of the Kingsguard actually went out for the hunt. Waste of time when I could have been-" Aemond pauses, his words stopping in his tracks, as his gaze returns to fall upon you. His only surviving eye, lingers over your body, before resting upon your face once more. You could've sworn you saw a slight upturn curve of a smile, although one filled with that familiar glint of arrogance.

"When I could have been fucking my needy, whore of a wife."

The harshness yet deviousness of his words had caught you by surprise, feeling your cheeks turn scarlet, as you flustered and adjusted in your seated position. You felt a dull, aching pang between your inner thighs, a familiar feeling that you'd grown weakly accustomed to.

Gods, what was only a few short days, felt like long, agonising weeks since your husband had filled you. You were indeed, needy for him, for the sex had always been a pleasurable event, something you'd often looked forward to for many nights to come since your consummation. Although, this being the first since you'd both been spared some time and distance apart, you'd grown even more susceptible for his cock. Desperately craving for him during the dark, lonesome hours in the night, you'd attempt to sate yourself in his stead, however failed miserably...

It was not the same.

Remaining speechless, you’d often found yourself at a loss of words, or stuttering ambiguous sounds as Aemond tended to you. His rough hand slowly reaches up, caressing your clothed thigh, before hiking up the dress where his hand disappears beneath the garment. The flesh of his palm meets the sensitive spot of your inner thigh as he begins to trace soft circles.

“Gods, how I’ve missed you. Surrounded by all those impotent cocks, envisioning you begging for me, was the only thing keeping me sane.”

Your eyes begin to flutter before shutting, the tenderness of his words in conjunction to the lightness of his fingers, sent shivers down your spine. Sensing his hand etching closer towards your entrance, tugging at the undergarment, as the tips of his fingers graze over your moist folds.

"Although, it seems you might have been suffering as well..." His tone was low, yet amused. The smirk now prominent on his chiselled face, however was fleeting, as he returned to yet another stiff expression.

"Part your legs," He firmly uttered. From the early months of the marriage you'd learnt not to disobey, for your husband was a firm believer in justified punishment.

Doing as told, like any meek, obedient wife, you'd obeyed, spreading your legs, distant enough for his arm to snake over your thigh closest to him, where his hand remained over your cunt. Laying his weight over you, as he remained turned facing you, laid by your side, and you still propped up. The novel that you'd deeply immersed yourself in a few, mere minutes ago, now strewed across the grass, its existence no longer of significance.

"Hmm-Needy, little thing aren't you? My deprived whore-"

As he spoke, the tips of his fingers began to plunge in further into your folds, slowly encircling inside.

"Tell me, my sweet, pathetic, little wife, how desperate have you been for me? For my cock, hmm?"

"A-Aemond-" You thoughtlessly stutter, your pelvis motioning forwards, urging for more of his touch.

"Can't even think for herself, look at you. You were wet before I even began... Tell me, whore, have you touched yourself in my absence?"

His fingers delved deeper, now two, long digits inserted, pumping in and out in slow, sensual motions. His fingers massaging your walls within, as your wetness began to pool.

"N-No-" You lie, fearful that Aemond would think less of you, that you were incapable of living freely and dignified without him, even if it was for a few, short days. Aemond relished in how you'd hopelessly yearn for him, dependent on him, a loyal wife vulnerable for her dutiful husband. He loved to remind you repeatedly, growing hard thinking that only he could make you feel this way.

"Lies-" He venomously spat, urging his fingers to plunge in deeper, with a greater verocity and speed than before, causing you to jerk involuntarily, earning a loud, thoughtless moan.

"Quiet, you whore- Should someone hear us, you will be left cockless and deprived. Now tell me the truth-"

Even in the short span of time Aemond had grown acquainted with you, he knew you unlike anyone else in the realm. To some deeper, more meaningful degree, you had appreciated how intimately he had grown to know you, and often, he would use it to his advantage. Reading you like some feckless book in the citadel's library.

"Y-Yes, husband," You quietly stutter, your arms stretched back supporting you, as your legs remained widely apart. Gods, was it destined that you'd found the perfect, hidden spot to read in the gardens this fine day...

"Mhmm- Just as I'd thought. Now tell me... How badly do you want me to fuck you senseless?" Just as the last word had escaped his lips, his fingers shoved in deeper, the knuckles of his hand now grazing the entrance of your drooling cunt.

"So-So very much-" You hiccuped, your breath hitching in your throat audibly, as you attempt to steady your breathing, your chest heaving, accentuating your plump breasts and slight cleavage. Aemond's eye [whenever you granted yourself the chance] you had noticed it flicker from your face to your blatant show of breasts: undoubtedly, most infatuated by them.

"You are going to need to convince me harder than that, that was pathetic, even for you- Beg for me, my insolent wife."

"Hmm-" You'd hopelessly moan, your walls throbbing against your husbands steady, yet swift motions.

"Please, Aemond- I-I need you. It-It's been so very hard, these past few days. Y-You’d been gone for s-so long-" His pacing eases, as he insists on you to speak coherently, eager to hear what you have to say.

"F-Fuck- I need you inside of me. I could not do what you can, I-I cannot satisfy myself, as y-you do so-so very well.”

As your head was lunged backwards, looking upwards towards the rustling leaves, flowers and sky above, you casted your attention once more downwards, gazing upon Aemond, whom remained cockily smiling up at you. Ever so pleased with your honest response, it seemed.

"Hmm."

Shoving his fingers in deeper, his pace now had hasten: shifting in your seat, as your hips instinctively bucked forward. You could feel his fingers just grazing over your tight, sweet spot, with each pump, earning more mindless moans and pleas for his name [or more so indirectly, for his cock].

Without a second to waste, Aemond pulled his hand from your drenched cunt, causing you to moan from the sudden release of the tension. His fingers glazed in your wetness, sparing a moment to take in your scent lingering from his fingers, before seating himself up on his knees, between your thighs. Hiking your dress up, as he eagerly pulled your private garments down, he'd adjusted his position swiftly, undoing his trousers in a haste simultaneously.

Cowering down over you, as he softly laid your back down against the linen and grass, his 'clean' hand reached over towards your face, his thumb gently stroking the side of your flustered cheek. He'd often spare a sacred moment, closely watching you from above, during sex, as you both immerse yourself in each other's attention, taking in all the fine details up close and personal.

"No need to say more, my wife-" Feeling his hardened cock, grazing your glazed entrance, that same potent, aching sensation stirring once more.

"You need not suffer any longer, and neither must I. I have taunted you and myself enough."

In a swift yet vigorous motion, Aemond thrust his long, pulsating cock deep inside, burying it cosily within. Your tight walls had immediately clenched onto him, like a key latched to a lock. You were made just for him, it was undeniable and he knew it.

"Fuck-" He'd breathlessly growled, as you unsteadily pant against his sturdy pace. His backward and forward motions felt unruly, as he heavily laid on top of you, your knees brought up, instinctively wrapping around his lean waist.

"Feels so tight around me, look at how much you crave for me, whore. No matter how often I pry you open, how much I fuck or fill you up. You are always desperate for more-" One hand rests on the ground for standing support, just beside where your head rests.

"Selfish, little whore. Your body still aches for me, and it naturally shows. You cannot hide it from me-"

You could muster no logical words nor any comprehensible thoughts, incoherent and ignorant to any lingering, perverted eyes. You had missed your husband dearly. Each breathless word that spilled from his filthy mouth in this very precise moment, was the honest truth, there was no point to deny or retaliate against him.

"I-I do not intend to, ever," You breathlessly whimper, gripping Aemond's cloaked, muscular shoulders, feeling your nails dig into his dense clothes.

Earning a menacing, short chuckle from Aemond, his raw thrusts grew faster and regular, his breathing heavier and louder. You could feel yourself edging closer and closer until reaching the final, much anticipated peak. Unconsciously lunging yourself closer, burying your face into Aemond's chest, as you continued to grip onto him tightly for support. Feeling his weight, in return falling into you, pinning you down, as his cum shoots itself inside, coating your walls as he satisfyingly fills you up with his seed.

As you both hastily cleaned and redressed yourselves up as best as you could, you'd noticed the grass patches where your weight and hand prints had rested, left a noticeable imprint on the ground, triggering a faint, heartfelt smile from you.

Aemond helping you up form the ground, as you folded the soiled duvet and book, he'd begun to carefully pluck out each of the small, dry leaves and petals that had somehow mingled in your unkept hair. A faint, sincere smile beaming across his face as he longingly gaped down above you, fixing the misplaced strands of hair.

Although, he had often taken pleasure in hurling cruel words towards you, his love was genuine and unrelenting. He was a loyal and dutiful husband, and it was plenty more than what many of the lords of the realm would offer their wives.