#jealous!Aemond Targaryen x reader

[the-spicy-release-of-death]

Drama Studies

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader, Cregan Stark x reader, Helaena Targaryen x reader (best friend), Aegon Targaryen x reader (platonic) Rhaena Targaryen x reader (platonic), Baela Targaryen (platonic) 

Tropes: Jealousy, mutual pining, alternate universe (modern university setting), She/her reader

Summary: Y/n always had a crush on Aemond. Her close friendship with Helaena stopped her from crossing the fine line of friendship with Aemond, who silently returns her feelings.

Previous part: Film Studies

“Don’t forget our discussion on The Portrait of the Mad King next week!” The professor's voice was muffled by the sound of students gathering their belongings. 

Helaena, sitting beside you, unmuted her phone and began to type something on the screen. You collected your things and secured them in your tote bag as your friend began to do the same.

“Aegon’s phone is on ‘do not disturb’… he’s probably locked in a broom closet with Floris-”

“-good for him-” You interjected, shooting her a wink. 

“-but Aemond is at our usual table by the field,” Helaena added as you both stood up, her eyes searching for yours intently.

Avoiding her gaze, you shifted your attention to the students leaving the auditorium, following along the waves of movement. A blush rose to your cheeks at the mention of Aemond. 

You were screwed.

That morning, you had stirred awake at the breaking of dawn in Aemond’s arms on the couch. You must have passed out during the movie. Helaena and Aegon were nowhere to be seen; they had most likely moved to their respective rooms. Once your brain registered whose chest you were using as a pillow, you held your breath, eyes widening.

Your heartbeat drummed within your chest, into your veins; you felt its numbing beat all throughout your body. Aemond slept peacefully, arms around you tightly. His scent, his warmth, his allure… he, in his entirety, was divine. Oh, how you wished to stay, retreat to his unknowing and awaiting arms! Your stare twisted pitifully in longing.

You were truly screwed.

Your arm slowly raised with the intent of caressing Aemond’s cheek with your fingers. You halted mere millimeters from his flesh, your consciousness finally catching on to your movements to pull back into a clenched fist against your chest. 

Your throat strained as your eyes parted from Aemond’s sleeping form dejectedly. A shaky sigh escaped your lips, knowing deep down, this would never happen again. You tore yourself from Aemond’s unconscious grasp, a movement that felt wrong, painfully tearing your heart apart. You collected your things and snuck out of the Targaryen’s penthouse. You shot Helaena a quick text and went home. You showered, washing away Aemond’s haunting scent from your skin, cleansing yourself from thoughts of him.

You were truly, royally, screwed.

Helaena hadn’t brought the previous night up – apart from her still-braided hair, which was proof that last night wasn’t some edible enhanced dream. 

Your tote bag handles rested comfortably against your shoulder as you stepped out of class, the blond woman hot on your trails. Your flared pants accentuated your curves swaying down the hall. 

“And what about Bae and Rhae?” You inquired, knowing full well that she kept tabs on everyone in her family. You already knew the other guys would be at baseball practice. It was Wednesday.

“They skipped their classes today to study for their midterm tomorrow.”

“Ah, makes sense,” You commented, shooting her a smile. 

The two of you made your way through the throngs of students in the halls, finding a sweet escape in the fresh air outside. As you walked along the baseball field, you pulled open your tote bag searching for your phone. Finding said item, you raise your gaze mere seconds before colliding into a large muscular figure. 

“Y/n, careful!” Helaena’s intervention came too late.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry-” You paused, your eyes meeting a familiar face. “Cregan!”

The man held on to you, steadying your faltering frame. You patted his chest with a playful wink as he let go of you to adjust your scarf around your neck. You blushed under his soft attention to detail. 

“Hey Y/n!” He smiled, his gaze briefly shifting to Helaena who stared at him disapprovingly, her arms crossed over her chest. “Hey, Hel!”

“Hey yourself.”

“Nice braids!”

Helaena’s face softened, her head nodding towards you.

“I owe it all to my best friend.”

“Yeah I saw everyone’s Instagram stories…” Cregan trailed off, his eyes falling back upon you. “You should do me.”

You released a snicker at the teasing tone, your hand playfully reaching out to touch his own locks of dark hair. “And tame your beautiful curls?”

Across the path, Aemond seethed as he watched you flirt with Cregan effortlessly, as if you hadn’t fallen asleep in his arms the previous night. His jealousy deafened him to Alys’ non-stop chatter about their assignment. Absentmindedly, he nodded along to her words; his eye narrowed on the developing scene. His heart raced as he watched you blush at his rival’s words and charm. 

Helaena, saving the day, poked at you with her elbow nodding towards your usual spot. You nodded at her before shooting Cregan a brief wink, walking off with Helaena with entangled arms. As you and your best friend neared the table, you fell back, your eyes finding Alys all over Aemond. 

Breath hitching, you faltered in your steps, Helaena looking back at you in confusion. You inhaled deeply and continued walking as if nothing was wrong. Afterall, in your two years of friendship with Helaena and by extent Aemond, the man hadn’t given any explicit sign he held an interest in you. Besides - you shook yourself together as you and Helaena approached - he was your best friend’s brother. 

Some lines were not to be crossed.

“You got any plans tonight?” Aemond asked the woman at his side, who shook her head eagerly, as if in relief. “Perfect then. Six O’clock.”

You gulped as you registered the conversation you were walking in on. Helaena’s gaze snaps back to you at the subtle sound. Just as your gaze dropped to the ground, the sounds of the baseballers laughing pulled your attention. Your eyes were downcast as you placed your tote bag on the table, excusing yourself momentarily. Helaena’s eyes widened in realization, her bewildered gaze shifting from you to her brother, then back to you.

Some lines were not to be crossed, you repeated to yourself. It was pointless, you were already so profoundly in love. Moving on was a necessary evil, you reminded yourself, as you retreated towards the baseball field.

Helaena growled in annoyance, as she turned to her brother and Alys. The latter was leaving for a meeting with her wicca club. 

“I’ll see you at 6 for the assignment.” She slid out of her seat, shooting Helaena a quick nod.

The blond woman stared at her brother quietly as he watched bitterly you walk off in Cregan’s direction.

“What’s up with that?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth. Helaena rolled her eyes and slammed her vegan leather bag on the table.

“We have a problem.”

“I can see that. Let me guess. You caused it?”

Helaena slapped him over the head, refusing to take the blame in this situation.

“No, you fool!” Helaena’s eyes darted to you as your hands rose to the fence, your fingers gripping on as you called over to Cregan. “You caused it.”

“Me? What the hell did I do?” Aemond’s brows furrowed confusedly.

“Nothing.” She replied in frustration, taking in a deep breath. “That’s the whole problem.”

“So, I caused a problem by doing nothing?” 

“Yes! Ugh, wait.” Helaena rubbed her temples in annoyance as she took a deep breath. “I figured out who Y/n is hung up on.”

“Who?” Aemond eye widened, eager for answers. 

“You, you bloody idiot.”

“Me?” Aemond’s eyes widened. His heart crashed and burned in the acidic pit of his stomach. He helplessly watched as you captured Cregan’s attention, the baseball player jogging in your direction. 

“Cregan asked her on a date, and she said she’d think about it. After she saw you with Alys, I guess she quickly reconsidered her prospects with Cregan.”

Aemond remained quiet, his eyes glued onto you as his sister spoke.

“Make a move before it’s too late, Aem.”

“Hey guys!” Aegon appeared out of nowhere, out of breath. “Can you believe… how fast... Floris Bara...theon runs...” He paused, taking a deep breath. “She found out I met with her cousin in the boiler room. Talk about messy-”

“-Aegon!” Aemond looked up at his elder brother. “Y/n is agreeing to go on a date with Cregan.”

“No way!” Aegon’s eyes flew to the scene, where you were in fact flirting with Cregan. “Good for her! I told her to get laid-”

“-Aegon, go get her, tell her its urgent.”

“I just caught my breath, Aem, I’ve been running across campus-”

“Aegon, please.”

Aegon rushed off without further thought. 

You shrieked as you were suddenly picked up and thrown over a shoulder.

“Help I’m being kidnapped!” You yelled. Your panic settles once you hear Aegon’s and the other baseball players laughter. Arching your back to see Cregan, you wave him goodbye, bringing your hand to your ear and gesture with a wiggle of your wrist for him to call you. 

You playfully banged your fists against Aegon’s back, demanding to be let down on the ground. He didn’t budge carrying you to the picnic table. Once there, he helped you bring your feet back to the ground. 

Crossing your arms on your chest you stared at him in mild annoyance. “What the hell was that about?”

The Targaryen siblings stared at each other awkwardly, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“I found a group costume!” Aegon announced loudly, all heads snapping to him. That was one way to get your attention.

Would you like to go back?

Taglist current:

@crazylokonugget @fan-goddess @at-a-rax-ia @mishala005 @qweencrimson

[pettyprocrastination]

thinking about how as Aemond’s wife you are the model of perfection. 

Your back is straight as you curtsy when you first meet him and hair neatly braided with fine jewels. Your voice is even and never waivers as you speak to him of your family and how grateful they are for this union. 

You are intelligent and beautiful, the perfect wife. 

It’s why Aemond hardly ever spends time with you. 

He bears no ill will toward you, of course. There is no resentment or hatred to his lady wife, but there are no fond feelings either. 

He knows of courting and romance, his mother taught him everything from a young age. The poor woman would hold her son’s hands tight and explain that a man must not only respect his wife, but truly cherish her. Love her in the eyes of gods and men. As he grew older he noticed the way his father would wave off her constant advice and concerns until the dreaded night where she was the only one defending him after he lost his eye.

But practice was one thing. When you were nothing but a concept. A figment of Aemond’s imagination when he was ten and marriage was only spoken of during his lessons. Before he lost his eye. Before he heard the ladies of the court whispering about his mutilation and before he watched a whore flinch at the sight of his scarring when Aegon dragged him to a brothel on his thirteenth name day. 

He learned then that no matter how much he would love and worship his wife, it would not be returned. 

Rather than attempt to force it (he was no brute and had no intentions of doing something so cruel) he simply let you be by yourself. 

Yes you were married. You sat by one another at every meal and formal event and on the rare occasion he would even ask for your hand in a dance. But Aemond’s affections toward you were few and far to find. 

But there were moments. 

Where his icy facade would weaken and you found yourself able to slip through the cracks. 

Alicent had told you of his “moments” when the engagement had been announced. The queen herself taking you by the hand as you walked through the garden and explaining gently of Aemond’s condition. 

“There are times where he feels a great deal of pain because of the-” She paused, chewing on her cheek while trying to find the most inoffensive way to describe the tragedy that befell her son. “-incident he had as a child.” 

You knew enough of it. Many rumors flew through court the day Aemond targaryen walked in with a patch on his eye after Laenor Velaryan’s funeral at driftmark. Some day it was from a sparring incident, others say it was a mark he bore from the first time he mounted the mighty vhaegar. Others say that the Rouge Prince Daemon Targaryen himself gave it to his younger cousin after crude words were exchanged behind closed doors. 

You didn’t know what was the truth. Aside from the day the princeling got his scar, was the same he got his dragon.

A fair trade, some would say. 

But they didn’t live with the attacks he did. 

Nerve damage, is what the maester’s called it when you asked them for more information. His wound may have healed years prior but the prince would continue to live his life with constant bouts of mind-numbing pain brought on by the slightest touch or too sharp of a wind to his cheek. 

“Senseless fits.” Aegon called it. When he heard about your curiosity about his brother’s condition he had all but cornered you late at night in the hall. “Anything will set him off and send him throwing a tantrum like a belligerent child. It’s quite entertaining.” 

But there’s a moment where the elder brother frowns and you see a shred of concern in his eyes. 

“He doesn’t like to be touched during those moments. It makes the pain worse. So if you’re trying to find some way to comfort him I’d recommend you do something else.” 

What was ‘something else’ you learned, was simply being there. 

Sitting by his side when he curled into himself, trembling fingers reaching out to grab yours and not complaining when his nails dig into the palm of your hand as he cries out in pain. When his breath evens out and the pain subsides, he crawls to you and presses his face to the crook of your neck. He’s far too tired to cover the gnarled scar covering the side of his face but you show no fear or disgust at the sight of it. Your fingers run through his hair, gently combing back the silver tresses and ignoring the tears that stain the shoulder of your gown. 

The next morning your husband would wake in your arms and takes a moment to watch your peaceful expression and the way the morning sun kisses your skin. 

That day Alicent notices her son sits closer to you at breakfast, speaking softly to you of something she cannot understand. But when she sees his hand reach out and grasp yours, she smiles. 

[ficzhub]

The Foreign Woman

Part 5

Aemond Targeryen x Older Myrish OC (Alexyse Majeríz)

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CW: hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, obsessive behavior, dysfunctional family, mommy issues, younger boys crush on older girl, duplicitous OC, creepy crush, jealous Aemond Targaryen, envious Aegon II Targaryen, emotional manipulation, possessive Aemond Targaryen, jealous Aegon II Targaryen, power imbalance, power dynamics, sex work, touch starved, prince/maid, bed sharing, elitism.

✨✨✨✨

Doubled

As relaxed as Aemond felt being held by his Maery for the seventh night in a row, he couldn't help but wake up a few times through the night and marvel at her face, at her closeness, at her scent that's changed slightly from when she'd first laid here and into something softer and more subtle throughout the night. She unfortunately makes sure to wake up well before the sun rises to catch Ms.Mochel before the day really began. She always kisses Aemond's forehead and leaves him tucked in his bed nice and warm before getting ready for the day to speak with her proximate. He ends up getting up not long after her, but to his regularly scheduled classes and trainings instead of following her again, despite his wish to. If he wanted to keep being someone worth his Maery's time, he can't stop doing his duties. Ser Criston Cole has begun training him alongside his older brother and the other children in the castle and its surroundings, (previously his nephews) before breaking fasts. He tries to focus as much as he can but his mind keeps trailing back to his Maery, what she would be doing now and unfortunately, for who? Where in the castle would she be now? How long until his mother finally just sets her with just him permanently so he doesn't have to share her attention?

"You seem distracted, brother." Aegon says quietly by his right, watching Ser Cole and Ser Willis dueling.

Aemond looks up at him to see his annoying, smug smirk. "Is someone on your mind?"

Aemond refuses to indulge his brother's taunts with a response, Aegon didn't need to know about Maery or if there's anything else clouding him.

Unfortunately for him, Aegon is now more than intrigued with the very effective maid. It's not as though he had been blind. The girl's beautiful, striking even. Her dark curls barely staying under her bonnet in the braid often coming somewhat undone through the day and framing her round face with the fallen pieces. Her tawny skin contrasting with her doe-like black eyes, dark lashes and eyebrows, the pink pout of her full lips. He suspects she's Dornish, one of their bastards perhaps though he can't match her accent to any he'd met.

He'd watch her now when Aemond couldn't, see her changing their linens, bending over the bed to secure the corners, preparing the oils for their baths, still getting her milk from the ranch hand in the back of the castle despite his grievous injuries curtesy of Aemond, not that anyone else knew that. But what gives him the most enjoyment is the same thing that wounds his insides. He watches as she makes her way back to his little brother's room faithfully every night for a week now and coddles him, dotes on him, asks him about his day and holds him tenderly until he falls asleep with his face pressed against her ample busom, wrapping his arms around her middle to make sure she doesn't get away from him.

It's not that he doesn't want his brother to have the comfort he needs, he's glad he does. It makes him feel less guilty about his teasing. It's that he'd kill for just a taste of the same. He doesn't know when she leaves, but never asks a single thing of Aemond as she holds him, never scolds him, only gently corrects if he ever says or does anything wrong. She hums him sweet songs and grazes her fingers over his head and his back, he imagines Aemond has never slept better while Aegon hasn't slept well without milk of the poppy since he was seven. Why must it be only Aemond that gets to experience the genuine comfort and care of a beautiful woman? Why can't he get anyone to care for him like that? Why can no one show him even a second of love without expecting anything in return? She even dotes on Daeron and Helaena, on occasion. Well, as much as one can dote on Helaena.

The second night he saw "Maery" doing that for his brother, he decided he'd ask for that the next day at the brothel. He'd go alone, without his mates and see what had him longing so badly for the girl. He went inside, had one of the girls do exactly what he asked her to do but having to get up, with her acting so clinically afterwards and paying for it not a minute later only had him rushing to get home and sobbing to himself in his bed, reaching for the strongest wine he could get his hands on to distract from the emptiness he felt flooded with. The transactional nature of it, the cold attitude of the whore after, how false it all felt, it left him feeling worse than when the queen strikes him or when his grandsire gives him that look of total derision and disappointment. At least he knows those feelings are real.

His mother hasn't held him the way Maery holds Aemond since he was five, she never looked at him like the maid looks at his brother, never asked him about his day, never hummed him lullabies or played with his hair. No one's ever given him that much comfort, he almost fears he'd be overwhelmed by it. Aemond was already considered much more tolerable than Aegon had ever been, but with his injury it's like everyone treats him with the utmost reverence and endearedness and respect. He'll never be as he was, but Aegon would give anything, including his eye, to be handled the way his brother is now.

"C'mon, too shy to tell me now?" He eggs on, shoving Aemond's shoulder. Perhaps more harshly than necessary, struggling to tamp down his jealousy.

"Enough, brother." Aemond demands, scowling at the ground.

"Boys," Ser Criston yells, making them stand at attention. He continues his demonstrative fight against Ser Willis but looks over at the two brothers to make sure they're paying attention.

Aemond glares up at Aegon, rubbing his shoulder and blush-inducingly, eager to tell his Maery about it later. Perhaps it'll even leave a bruise. Aegon's nostrils are flaring as though he's the one who hurt him and not the other way around. For a second, Aemond thinks he sees something more in his eyes than the usual teasing mischief.

Alexyse tries to get as much done as she can now that Aemond is focusing more on his duties, but she's noticed Aegon's been taking note of her recently now, too. Not as closely as Aemond, but enough to where it's creeping on her nerves. She received note from The Red Fingers just yesterday and came very close to being caught by Aegon. They're hastening her, wondering why she's gone so long without giving word to her exploits. How is she to tell them that instead of doing what's been ordered to her, she's taken to mothering the unmothered. She's a woman, and no matter how deadly, how precise and how cold they've proven themselves to be, it'll never be enough. There will always be those to doubt her abilities, who deny her skills. She sent back word of everything she's found out so far and hopes that'll tide them over with the last of the message being that she has more to come once she receives confirmation. Despite the fact that none of that information exists. It was all encoded of course, anyone who reads the note will just assume it was chicken scratch, or the dabblings of a child who just wanted to send something.

Still, this many eyes on her wasn't something she planned nor appreciates. If Aemond had been able to keep their little meetings to himself, that would've been one thing. But he watches her at every chance he gets, the other work staff has noticed and she suspects he's the reason Bylric was hurt. The poor boy is only fourteen and now it's uncertain if his right arm will ever function as it once had, which as a ranch hand is devastating.

She sits now, cleaning the floors of the children's wing with a solution of lye so to not hurt the stones and covering it with gray clay powder to seal, wondering how these people don't get sick more often. They floors before she came laid covered with "sweet rushes", a hay that sounds much more pleasant than it is, to catch everything that falls on the ground. From spit, to vomit from when someone gets nauseous, namely the prince as of late, the leakings men, likely other animals too. Ale droppings, dead animals, food scraps that lead to more rats coming in, and only the gods know what else.

If her mother or her mother's mother witnessed the filth of this place she wouldn't bother trying to clean, she'd just burn it down. The filth is more than just in the home, these people don't bathe as they should. Back in Myr the washing of one's self is daily, with aquafers that take clean, moving water all around the city. Even those without plumbing still wash daily in the rivers that start there and head downstream to the sea. The use of chamber pots shocked her, she can't imagine something more disgusting then hauling around one's own waste. Back home it's taken away by the water systems as well, the water is then disposed of using lye before being replaced in the system by fresh water. After you relieve yourself you clean your bum with a small moss page or wood pulp page sometimes even snake leaf, that you only use once before tossing it to rot and rejoin the dirt.

The scent of the city accosted her when she first arrived and it's been a struggle to grow accustomed to it. The common folk she understands. To bathe here, a large tub is required, plenty of access to clean water, most of which is stagnant here, availability of saponins is scarce, and the time it takes to bathe would cut into the day, that's not including the time to prepare for it. But she doesn't forgive the nobles. What excuses do they have to smell like onions and rot? They can douce themselves with all the floral oils they want, that won't cover the stench.

'I'm being too judgmental,' she thinks to herself 'I'm frustrated and worried that I might not complete my duty as instructed or to their satisfaction, but that is no fault of the people here.'

"Maery," Anida, a maid around her own age calls on her "The queen has summoned you to her chambers."

"Did she say why?" She asks

"Why would she tell me?" She asks with a smirk

"That's true. Thank you, I'll head there now." She gets up off the floor with Anida's help and heads to the queen's chambers with Anida taking her place.

Before she could even knock on the door, it's opened for her. The beautiful queen welcomes her in and gestures for “Maery” to sit across from her.

“I suppose you might be wondering why you’re being seated with me and not with the stuwart.” She begins

“The thought occurred to me, yes.”

“Ms.Mochel and Stuwart Ainsley have very differing opinions about you.”

‘Figures’ she thinks. That asshole Ainsley never treated her with very much respect, and clearly disliked her more than the other maids.

“I don’t know why, your grace.” She admits “Ms.Mochel always receives my work very well and has had me train some of the other maids of the keep.”

“Yes, which is precisely why I’ve summoned you here.” She says, placing a hand on Alexyse’s thigh “My sons have grown quite fond of you. Would you please tell me why, Maery?”

Alexyse didn’t know quite how she should respond to this. On the one hand, what she’s been doing is entirely inappropriate. On the other, it doesn’t seem like the queen is reacting too negatively.

“Well with Daeron all I do is be silly with him,” she begins “He’s only a boy of 6, I make small jokes as I do what’s required of me.”

“I see, and for Aemond?” She presses

“For Prince Aemond it’s a bit more complicated, your grace.” she goes “I first truly met Prince Aemond the night he lost his eye.”

At this, the queen looks down and nods.

“He put up a brave front but that night I went into his room and found him sobbing. He screamed at me to go, to leave him. He even threw something at me.”

The queen makes a small gasp

“Something soft, not anything dangerous. Still I couldn’t move from there, it was like I couldn’t understand what he was ordering me to do.”

“Then what?” Queen Alicent asks

This is the tricky part. How to tell the queen that she didn’t do her motherly duty to her son and instead left that for a perfect stranger to do in her stead?

“I must admit, what I did next was inappropriate.” Alexyse says, hoping that’ll soften the blow to both her and the queen’s ego. “I got into his bed and pressed him very tightly against my chest.”

She holds her breath and waits to see how the queen reacts, when her expression doesn’t change she continues.

“I don’t know why, I suppose it was just instinct. He’s a little boy and he was crying with no one to comfort him. He barely put up a fight before wrapping his arms around me and crying onto my chest.”

“Is that all?” She asks

“That happened that night? Yes.” Alexyse assures

“Are you why Aemond is so concerned with taking more baths?” She asks confused

Her brows furrow at this “I wouldn’t know, your grace.”

“Hmm” is all she says “What happened the following days?”

“The next night I went to change his linens and I found him there smiling at me and calling me my name. I thought the last night made him feel better and thought it would be all. But when I was going to leave and finish my work, he called me back. I told him I’d love to stay but that I had work to finish. The same thing happened the next night only he didn’t leave it at that.” She skips over the part where she stayed the second night with him too. “He went looking for me in the child’s maid’s quarters and when he found me, he woke me up and said he couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m terribly sorry about that Maery,” Queen Alicent says “I’ll make sure to keep his door guarded at night now, he shouldn’t be bothering at such hours for such things.”

“Truly it was less a bother and more a concern, your grace. I didn’t know how badly the loss of his eye had affected him. In any case, I’d rather he came to me and told me if something troubled him. Perhaps not in the middle of the night but since then he’s been trying to keep me with him while he sleeps. I leave once I’m sure he’s going to stay asleep but that’s gotten harder over the last few days.”

“Alright. Now Maery, why hasn’t it occurred to you to come to me about this?”

At this her brow furrows again in feigned confusion “Prince Aemond had told me he had gone to you about this himself. He said you’d assigned me to him and when I asked Ms.Mochel and Stuwart Ainsley, they didn’t negate it, your grace, only said I’m to do household chores while the prince is occupied but to tend to him exclusively when he’s not. I figured I needn’t bother you over something like this when my superiors and your underlings had already approved of it.”

“Well, I had been looking for a hand maid for Aemond but I was looking at noble girls. If he prefers you to them all however, I suppose that would be fine. As long as you don’t expect a noble marriage or something of that sort-“

“No your grace, of course not.”

Part 4 link:

@writingwenches

A03 link:

[its-actually-minicika]

do you have any headcanons for a darker Aemond? say there is a ball and he gets very jealous when MC starts dancing with a Baratheon lord or something lol

Ask and you shall receive. I hope you enjoy this cathartic mess that my head came up with!

Warnings: yandere!Aemond, some dubious consent (though he's still pretty soft with you);

Even his brother was eyeing him weirdly - the way Aemond was leaning forward, almost painfully so, a predator glint swirling in his lilac orb: it was unsettling, and most unnatural, coming from him;

The younger Targaryen felt his undoing the moment he denied you the first dance of the night. He thought that the way your body closed in on itself, sadly, and the way your eyes shimmered with doubt would be enough torture for him for days to come;

It was an action that couldn't be helped, he told himself - you needed to be taught a lesson, never to smile around anyone else; Aemond Targaryen, The One-Eyed Prince, was no one's means to an end. Not even yours;

But here he was, being further punished by his fair lady, subjected to eyeing her smiles and hearing her giggle with that good for nothing Baratheon lord;

The grip of his cup tightened when the drunken food placed a hand too leisurely around your waist;

"(...) what say you, my Prince?"

A meek voice interrupted his trail of thought. Aemond's eye clashed with his mother's, who was now smiling tightly at the young lady fronting their table;

"Lady Tyrell was asking for your hand in the next dance." Daeron came to aid his brother, whispering to him lowly, masking the movements of his mouth with his hands;

Aemond hummed, boring through the maiden with his open stare, concentrating on your breathless form;

He quickly mached the object of his desire to the girl in front of him - her hair was slightly darker and her lips not as defined. The most clashing feature on her face were her eyes; Aemond shuddered in disgust when he glanced upon them: green, emotionless, carrying no original thought behind them;

Very different from yours, indeed;

Nonetheless, he figured he had stalled enough. He bowed his head in her direction, prepared to stand up and lead her through the waltz;

She wasn't a perfect copy of you. But she would do;

He lasted a dance with her, though his eye found yours everytime;

But you, either hurt or bored by his theatrics, turned your full attention to the Baratheon lad in front of you;

The night went on seemingly without quarrel - you, joyously swaying from one man to the next. Him, seated in a nearby corner, with the swooning lady on his tail;

He gave her a curt nod from time to time, never once engaging in conversation; he could tell by the sweat on your brow that you would depart soon, so he waited;

And waited. And waited for the perfect moment, knuckles white, until it finally came;

You curtsied deeply to your father, your King and your date, exiting the wide hall with a small smile upon your face;

Enraged by the simple sight, Aemond got up abruptly from his chair, blinding jealousy making him forget all about etiquette;

He followed you down the hall at a moderate distance. People were around, and he wouldn't want them to suspect a thing;

Should your reputation be tarnished by his doing, Aemond would never forgive himself.

Although... a fleeting thought of orchestrating such a situation, in which you and him were found in a most unbecoming position, ran though his mind. And would that be so bad...?

He would take it one task at a time;

Before you knew it, a pair of iron arms ducked you into a secluded corner;

Glorious (y/e/c) eyes were met with lilac hues, swirling with lust and want;

"Did you have fun, byka zaldrīzes? Did you revel in the arms of that Baratheon scum?"

As he spoke, his hands travelled lower, onto your bare back, and the Targaryen had to bite back a groan;

Had you worn that dress just to vex him?

"You should already know... I don't ever take lightly sharing what is mine."

His tongue ran over your pulse, before biting down gently - posessively.

"Did you really think you could flaunt yourself before me at no occurring cost?"

You hand went over your mouth, clasping it tightly, as to not let out a moan;

That taught reaction elicited a low purr from deep within his throat;

"A-Aemond. I don't... I don't understand."

You were confused, more so now than ever - the building in your lower stomach, his crude refusal at the beginning of the night - what did they account to mean?

The silver haired man chuckled darkly, his breath rolling over your neck, and his hair tickling your shoulders;

"Don't worry, perzys hen issa prūmia. The night is still young."

As he spoke his last words, Aemond effortlessly threw you over his shoulder;

"And I plan to make you learn your lesson all throughout it."

Translations:

"Byka zaldrīzes" = little dragon;

"Perzys hen issa prūmia" = fire of my heart.

Small author's note: please let me know what you guys think - feedback is always appreciated! And if you have any requests, feel free to use the ask button; I love writing them ^^

[thebirdandthebee]

putting it out into the universe and hoping something comes back to me

looking to see if there are any good aemond x reader x cregan love triangle/yearning/jealousy fics out here?

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Fire and blood chapter 4: Jealousy

OC X Aegon, oc x Aemond and slight oc x Jacaerys.

WARNINGS:

Aegon and Aemond and you havent slept together for a week. They have been very subtle about it in public life, and part of you just knows they dont care about you now they both have had you.

Tonight, you are invited for a feast thrown by the king to celebrate Lucerys as the future lord of the tides. The princes are seated close to you, within reach so you can hold proper conversations. The other side of the table is for Rhaenyra and her children.

You are here on invitation of Princess Helaena. She usually gets very overwhelmed and even sick during feasts like this and you know how much a good and kind friend will help her cope with this. It won’t be entirely enough, Helaena will still experience it as unpleasant but it would be even worse if you weren't here at all. She has no clue that her brothers fucked you. Well, two of them.

Your heart breaks for the poor sick king who just wanted a nice dinner with his family. You feel very out of place at this sacred moment. You feel unnatural and interrupting.

You enjoy your dinner quietly when chatting with Helaena over her favourite hobbies. Bugs, puppies, kittens and of course reading. You share some laughs and gossip a bit with her and recommend some forbidden books for her. She laughs at you.

A hand taps gently on your shoulder when the music plays. You expect Aemond or Aegon but Prince Jace looks at you with a Smug smile before whisking you away with him. The king smiles touched and you know it's too late to reject Jace now. His girl, Baela looks on like she has just been stabbing in her back.

You accept his hand happily and walk with him to an open spot away from the table. You begin the dance. You grin and jump up and down like he does as well. Aemond meanwhile eyes his brother and Aegon throws back his drink as the song continues, a peaceful melody that sounds to you like the last song of a bird.

Prince Jace and you twirl, your arms intertwined with one another. He gives you a charming smile and you grin, as the song reaches its beautiful heartbreaking bridge.  You see that the food keeps coming, so you interrupt the dance yourself and hurry back to your seat, taking in all the delicious food. Helaena mutters something to herself, but you can’t hear what.

You grab a bit of chicken and a few potatoes. Its an symphony of smells and colours on the table. Aegon sometimes picks up a piece of chicken to devour, but Aemond’s plate is empty. He just sits there, drinking. Aegon does the same and you give them both some hidden glares before starting conversation, something to bring them together. ‘So, Aegon. Are you happy that your nephew now is the Lord of the tides?’ You ask, smiling at a bright and proud Lucerys.

‘I couldn’t care less what my nephews are up to. As long as they keep from touching what is mine by right.’ He grabs the extravangt glass pitcher they putted on the table and fills his cup once more with wine. You know it’s not good for him, but you won’t act like his mother here. If he was alone with you in the libarary, you would’ve hit him with a book.

Luc gets a little confused by those words but you know what he means. He is talking about that dance. ‘How is Driftmark yours, Uncle? Are you Velayeron perhaps?’ He jokes lighthartedly. It falls very flat and you sip your wine uncomfortable.

Aegon scowls. You remember that face from when he had trouble with his lessons but this is something else entirely too. Something like a wolf being mad that his toy is being taken away. ‘You can keep your smelly seahorse shit throne. I am talking about something else entirely. I don’t expect someone of your natural origins to understand. I heard you lacked common sense-‘

‘Aegon,’ you hiss at him, when Lucerys tears up a bit. ‘Be nice. This is a family dinner. For your father, the king. Put up some apperances and act nice.’

‘You really think you can control us, hm Lady Beespring?’ Aemond growls.

You open your mouth to snap at him but change your mind moments later. Softly you add. ‘Someone has to.’

Aegon shoots daggers at you. You look to Aemond for support but he does the same. They only drink and are spectators to this feast. The king doesn’t care about his sons, you can very much tell. He speaks with Jace, with Luc, his daughter and his wife and friend. The others are left out completely and only drink, eat and become more and more resentful torwards their family.

You need catch some fresh air. You excuse yourself and get up and walk out of the room. The moment you have left the room you calm down instantly. Its much colder but much more peaceful outside. You walk to the nearest window and open it, letting the fresh air in.

A hand suddenly grabs your wrists and pins you against the wall next to the window, rather harshly. You stutter in fear and look at your attacker. You gulp. Aemond. He has a twisted smile on his thin lips and wets his lips with the edge of his tongue. ‘Lady Beepspring. How unbefitting of you to leave our little social gathering before it had properly ended.’

Relieved, you relax. 'Hello. We talked about you sneaking up on me.' You say. He softly touches your body, still with you pinned against the wall. 'Hm. We talked but you didnt listen or did you?' You are a bit confused and tilt your head. Aemond leans in and whispers something in your ear when sucking on your earlobe. ‘Punishment, remember?’

'What is that supposed to mean?' You croak out softly and try to escape Aemonds grip. He presses you further against the wall and grins. 'You danced with him.' He bites out and you huff when chuckling.

That stupid little dance? You let him do worse things to your body. 'Come now, dont tell me you are jealous of an stupid little dance. I humoured him, and the king. It was unbefitting to say no.' You say, and try to break free. He only pressures you more into the wall like he wants to push you through it, out of the castle.

‘You should've said no.’ He says. Your heart beats unregularly.

You could not have. You know it. He knows it. It would be inproper. 'I couldnt do that. He is to be the future king-‘ Aemond gets a annoyed look in his eyes and wants to say something but stops himself before he can.

This possessive behaviour has to stop before someone noticies, or you are both in trouble. 'You didnt court me. Neither did your brother.' You didn’t receive any pretty gifts or special treatment. Just two grinning silver haired madlads who grabbed you by your arms and claimed you as theirs.

He touches your face gently, softly and carefully. Touching you like one wrong move could shatter you into thousands pieces. His voice is deep and low and you feel something familiar happening to your body. 'No, we did fuck you. And you liked it very much. How about we skip this shitty party and have our own feast? With you as our very tasty meal?' you flush. He grins. ‘You still have much to learn and to experience. I’ll get Aegon notified and we can go to my room and teach you side by side. How does that sound?’ Very tempting, but you force yourself to be the bigger person.

'Aemond, please. it would break the kings heart. Stay for your father.' But you know he never would alone for his father. So you add, softly. 'Stay for me, please?'

-- It all goes well until a big pig is presented to Aemond. Luc laughs and Aemond becomes the killer.

You dont know what that is about but for reason, he snaps. And he snaps very hard like a branch in the woods being snapped in half. He raises his cup skyhigh and starts talking. ‘Final tribute. To the health of my nephews. Jace, luc, and joffery. Each of them handsome, wise…’ You hold your breath. He grins at you before continuing. ‘Strong.’

Hell breaks lose. - You sit on the bed, your mouth dry and your eyes focussed on the two still drinking men. You assume they would be drunk by now, but they are not. Maybe lightly affected, but mostly they are angry. After the feast, you were summoned to the library where they ordered you to come with them to Aemond’s room via a secret passagewy.

Aemond paces through the room. 'That was a disaster.' Aegon says casually before filling his wine cup. Again. Aemond nods. He agrees with his brother. 'They should have never returned here. They dont belong here. They should burn in Harrenhal like their father did.' That sounds like treason, to you. But you don’t say so. You let them be angry. They don’t know what they are saying.

The older prince gives you a caculuated glare as you slowly eat a piece of cutted apple from the little bowl of fruit they gave you. 'That bastard was looking funnily at her. If I see him look too much, what will we do about it?' He asks, his younger brother. You feel very confused feelings. Shame, because you are not supposed to like these darker sides. Fear, because you know they are not kidding or messing around. And eventually something confusing you can’t quite place yet.

He already has a plan. 'Make him blind.' Aemond suggests, making you nearly choke on your fruit. You put the bowl down and make yourself known again, as they have been ignoring you on purpose since they dragged you in and threw you on the bed.

That is too far. 'You dont need to blind-'

Aegon grabs a cherry from your bowl. 'Quiet.' He puts the cherry in your mouth, silencing you. ‘You still are in trouble. Defending the little bastards, dancing with them…’ You eat the cherry obediently but you are furious they dare to command you like this.

Aemond grins. 'Hm. Enough talking. We have company.’ he says.

Your feelings all over the place. 'Who do you want first tonight?' It's up to you this time. They won't flip a coin like last time. You don't like that bit of freedom they have granted you.

You huff at Aemond. 'Aegon. You clearly dont know how to behave. You don't deserve a reward.' You say with a sweet smile.

Aemond groans threatening when Aegon Laughs at you, happily. He is like a walking time bomb. His emotions are everywhere at once.

The one eyed prince glares at you. 'Hm. I'll remember that.' You feel something bad happen when he says that ominously and the reminder of your first time and how he would fuck you rough during your second time is very fresh in your memory.

‘Aegon, she is yours. Be sure to punish her for her misbehaviour tonight.’

Aegon runs a hand through his silver hairs before getting his shoes off. ‘Oh she will be.’ He grins darkly at you and you swallow.

Aegon climbs on the bed and you back away in instinct. Aemond struts to his desk and starts picking out a book to read when his brother roughly rips your dress open, exposing your breasts. He undresses himself very quickly, touching your breasts gently and running his fingers around your hardened nipples.

Aegon rips of your skirts as well and turns you on your back. You groan as he lifts you and puts you in a familiar kneeling position. 'She is wet.' He says after bending you and showing off your body and entering your insides with his finger.

'She always is, somehow. Our little naughty girl loves getting her cunt fucked.' Aemond comments reading but you sometimes see his good eye stare and look at you. He is pretending to not care about you but you know differently.

You groan. 'I can hear both of you. You will-' Aegon flattens his hand and pushes you torwards him before hitting you several times on your naked exposed ass. You shiver in confusion as pain and pleasure mix inside you.

'The only thing I want to hear from you is how sorry you are for your behaviour and that you'll never even consider doing this again.' He hisses darkly in your ear. You cower.

You are so confused. 'It was a dance. Why do you care?' Aegon forces you to lower your head and you feel him feel you up a bit before he roughly shoves his cock inside you and you groan in pain and whine softly at this rough treatment. You are wet so its easy and nice. It feels good and wrong at the same time but you let Aegon do this. You softly buck and let him have his way with. He fucks out his anger on you.

Aegon is nearing. You are too. You turn around and look at his stiff erection. 'We should teach her how to pleasure us with her mouth.' Aemonds eye twitches a bit. His voice dark and possessive.

Aegon ignores him, grabbing you by your legs and dragging you over to him. You get it once more on your knees much faster and rougher. You pant and close your eyes before Aegon comes inside you and lose it as well.

Aegon kisses your sweaty forehead and tells his brother that he can have you. Aemond slams the book shut and grins. He first does a small inspection of your body. 'Quite wet for us, aren't you?' He mocks you. The son of a bitch.

'Get on all fours.' You obey him. It's best to do so anyway. The sooner you have him inside you the sooner this miserable longing goes away.

'Hmm,' Aemond moans.' Such a tight little fit.'

'So wet too. My brother fucked you nicely but still that's not enough for you, is it?' You shake your head, feeling a blush creep on your cheeks. Aegon growls from across the room. 'Punish her for that. She is such a ungrateful girl.' You want to protest but you see Aegon grin at you. He is only joking.

Aemond however, is not. 'I agree. A punishment is certainly due. How do you wish we punish you, girl?' 'Shall I maybe fuck you? Or maybe you like to suck us both off. We could also try something else out.' You dont like the sound of something else.

'Fuck me,' you breath out. He grabs your hand and lets you rub him. It's been inside you but it's still so foreign and strange to you. 'She is such a scared little thing.' Aegon groans. 'I want her after this.' He says.

You freeze. Aemond uses that and pins you down before kissing you roughly on your mouth. You feel his tongue slip in and get a little bit of a reflect to puke. 'You just had her. It's my turn. I will make the girl scream and cry.' He vows and you whimper in fear.

He seems to like that. 'Present yourself for me. On your knees and spread them nicely.'

'Good.'

'Do you like it that we share you? Do you like having two men to fuck you bloody and to squirt in as much cum as that little cunt of yours can handle? Do you like getting stuffed and stuffed until you can't have it and eventually come when one of us is deeply rooted inside you?'

You nearly grunt. 'Yes what?' He demands.

You keep sighing. 'Yes, to all of that. Please...'

He laughs. 'You wont dance again. You wont even glance at other boys again. You are ours. Is that understood?' He trusts a bit deeper and harder. Your eyes roll in your head.

'Yes! Yes please I'm sorry.' You quickly blurt out.

He groans. 'Apolgise to my brother as well.'

You quickly mutter your apologies 'Aegon I'm sorry.' The fucking intensifies.

You cry out and come soon after. Aemond notices and roars when rolling up against you and fucking you deep. 'I didnt gave you permission for that.'

'Sorry,' you dont know why you apologise to him. You dont. Aemond chuckles warmly before taking you fast and steady. He comes and drops you with a groan after nearly having his way with you for a long and slow time.

'Let me see.' Aegon inspects you. He knows you need him. Deep and hard. Rough and fast. 'Stil wet. You want it two times tonight?' He asks, for your consent. Very unusual.

You nod, softly whispering. 'Yes, please. Very much.'

They both chuckle at that. 'Such a polite little girl when she needs to be. I will have her after this a second time as well.' Aemond pets your hair before backing away and letting Aegon have his fun with you again.

You are dirty, cum on your legs and on your entrance. You are wet and feel feverish and tired. Aegon laughs before climbing on top of you again. You and the princes have sex one more time before they finally decide it's been enough for you for today. They softly wash away the blood and the cum off your body and dress you in a night gown.

You are sore and tired. 'Good girl for fucking us. I want to hear one more time how sorry you are.' Aegon says strictly.

'Very much, my prince.' You answer politely.

'Let's grant her some rest. She must be tired.' Aemond interrupts your playing.

You are indeed. Exhausted. 'You will need to keep awake. The tea will soon come. Unless you want a child with one of us.' Aegon jokes.

You grin. 'They would be adorable.' Both of them share a brief horrified look. 'Yes. I suppose.' Aemond blurts out.

Aegon takes a cup of tea from a maid. 'Here. Drink.' He pushes the drink in your hands.

You are not a spare wife. You are just a object to fuck and to have fun with. 'Can I return to my rooms?' You ask, a bit saddened by their extreme reactions.

Aegon grins at you. 'No, you'll stay here.' He tells you. You dont like that. 'But these are Aemonds rooms-' you protest but the second prince already smirks. 'I dont mind sharing my bed.'

'What if someone comes looking for me?' You wonder. 'What if a servant saw us?' This will only end badly.

Aegon shrugs. 'I'll tell them to hang themselves.' He says casually.

You growl and throw one of Aemonds pillows to him. 'Aegon!' You scold.

He groans. 'What? You are better off with my brother when I take in the city. He might even let you in a nice bath so you can clean up properly. You should be fresh for us.' He wiggles his brows.

You groan and huff. After finishing the tea you enter the bathroom and make a bath. After it you return to Aemond. He is on his bed reading. Aegon is still gone. Subtly you take the book away and grin at him.

'We cant have sex now.' Aemond says, reading your bloody mind with his demon powers. What the hell?

You pout. 'Aren't you ready for it?' You rub him. 'Does your body hurt?'

He grabs you and flips you over his legs so you are on your back like a helpeless kitten. You Yelp, scared. He grins and smacks you again. 'No, you silly goose. I am beyond ready to fuck and to fuck you until you cant walk. But our agreement was that we fuck you when the other is present or we wont fuck at all.' He says and picks up the book again.

''You know; I quite like the way you order me around. I don't know what that is. I dont have it when we are not being intimate.' You softly confess when he runs his hand through your hairs.

He smiles at you. Sincere and gentle. 'It's good you like that. Me and Aegon are used to being obeyed. And you proved us that you serve us very loyally and richly.' He chuckles and you roll your eyes grinning as well.

He continues. 'I shall pass it to Aegon as well. He is careful and holding himself back. I can tell. But if you like getting it rough, getting scolded and punished well who are we to deny yourself and ourselves such pleasures?' Pleasures.

You think. 'Can I ask you something personal?'

He laughs. 'I think we are past that but go on.'

You take a deep breath. 'Do you think you could ever forgive and forget what happened to you? Your nephews-'

'No, I can't.' He abruptly says.

'Sleep, girl. Sleep.' And you do. You do.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats

Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.

“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.

“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.

The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.

“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.

“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”

Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”

Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”

Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”

Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”

“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.

Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.

“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”

Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.

“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”

“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”

“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”

“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.

“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”

“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”

“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.

Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.

“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.

“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”

“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.

“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.

“Did they listen?”

“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”

“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”

“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”

“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”

“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.

“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”

“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”

“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”

“What would you have me do?”

Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”

“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.

The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.

“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”

“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”

“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”

“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”

Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.

“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”

Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.

Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you.”

“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”

Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.

She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.

Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of…rats.”

Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”

He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.

Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.

The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.

Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”

The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.

“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.

“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”

“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”

“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”

“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.

“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”

The men look to each other, undecided.

“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.

————————————————————————-

Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”

Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”

The boy? “My boy?”

Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”

Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”

“They took her instead.”

“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.

Part 2

[the-spicy-release-of-death]

Fine Arts

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader, Cregan Stark x reader, Helaena Targaryen x reader (best friend), Aegon Targaryen x reader (platonic) Rhaena Targaryen x reader (platonic), Baela Targaryen (platonic) 

Tropes: Jealousy, mutual pining, alternate universe (modern university setting), She/her reader

Summary: Y/n always had a crush on Aemond. Her close friendship with Helaena stopped her from crossing the fine line of friendship with Aemond, who silently returns her feelings.

“It’s taking forever!” Aegon whined, ducking as Helaena threw a handful of glitter in his direction.

“Oh hush!” Helaena shot him a smile through the cloud of sparkles. “You’re the one that agreed to help.”

“And to think, Floris Baratheon asked me to tutor her in Westerosi Colonisation.”

Your paintbrush halted in its movement, an unfinished letter etched in red against the white poster. You looked up to meet his lilac eyes.

“You’re failing that class,” You pointed out casually, to which the blond man nodded in response. 

“I am,” He agreed, a smirk pulling at his lips. “She wants me.”

Groans in unison were smothered by Aegon’s obnoxious laugh. You shared a look with Helaena, your eyes rolling back before landing upon your projects. 

Monday. The day was warm; the group decided to sit behind the baseball field as you usually did, on a picnic table surrounded by trees. This was the ideal spot outdoors on campus, in your opinion. The baseball players were always such a sight, despite the game being boring enough to be background to your daily shenanigans.

Helaena had asked the group to help her make posters for her activism club’s newest cause: The Mexican Cartel’s threat to Monarch Butterflies. Rhaena and Baela hoped on to the opportunity to do something creative for once. The girls were in finance programs, which made such opportunities rare. Aegon only agreed because he’d have an excuse to talk to Helaena’s hot activist friend – who coincidentally fell sick. You wanted to help your best friend.

The whole group was there – except Aemond. He was probably late, it was easily brushed off. His internship at his father’s company was taking up most of his time anyways.

Your gaze drifted off dreamily towards the field as a bat struck loudly. You watched as Cregan ran to first base.

“I really should answer his dms,” You mumbled to yourself in thought. 

“Cole?” Aegon inquired.

“Jace?” Baela suggested in turn.

“Larys?” Rhaena offered, prompting everyone’s laughter. 

“As if. That creep only messages our dear Y/n for feet pics. She definitely means Cregan.” Helaena shook her head dejectedly, almost in disappointment.

“Ding ding ding!” You grinned awkwardly, your eyes shooting to hers, as she retreated her attention back to her painting of a monarch butterfly. You paused, wondering if you should ask her what prompted this change in attitude. You cleared your throat, shifting your gaze towards the field. You watched as Cregan stretched, showing off his muscles for everyone to see. “He’s so cocky it’s infuriating. Ugh, I so regret not answering that ‘you up?’ text.”

“Please! It’s not like you don’t receive one ever other night…” Helaena mumbled, causing Aegon to drop his paintbrush dramatically, splashing everyone with red paint. Collective groans were suppressed by his enthusiasm, as he wrapped an arm around your neck and brought your heads closer in a near collision.

“Hey, hey, hey! No. We do not slut shame in this group!” Aegon said proudly, tutting away his sisters attempts at clearing the misunderstanding. You waved her worries away with a roll off your eyes; Aegon was just being dramatic. “Besides, it’s not like Y/n ever answers those texts.”

“How would you know?” You ask, almost indignantly.

“Look at how tense you are!” Aegon unwrapped his arm, his hand remaining on your shoulder as his eyes surveyed you. He then turned you to look at Rhaena and Baela. “Look at them! They don’t look tense at all; I guess their boyfriends are good at what they do.” 

Before the twins could object, or consider if they even wanted to object, Aegon turned you once more to look at Helaena. “Now look at Hel: she looks so tense it looks like she has a metal rod up her-“

“-Hey!” Helaena threw her paintbrush at Aegon who pulled you with him down to duck the makeshift missile. An ungodly shriek escaped you as you landed on your ass, Aegon seizing at your side in a fit off giggles. You punched the blond man in the shoulder in annoyance, your eyes falling to your raised skirt. Red flew to your cheeks as your hands darted to straighten the material over your thighs appropriately.  

“I swear to the Gods, Aegon, if Cregan saw my granny panties, I would never be able to live it down!”

“Don’t you have anything nicer? Even I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole,” Aegon remained lying on the grass, leaning against his forearm as he gave you a suggestive once over. 

“It’s laundry day!” You stammered, your face flushing crimson in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t wear these panties- Wait, let’s just stop talking about my panties, okay! Can we just stop saying the word panties?”

A handful of flutteringly impatient fingers appeared in your field of vision, offering a helping hand to stand. Your hand instinctively clasped around it, allowing yourself to be pulled up. Your brain slowly caught up to your movements as you registered who your eyes fell upon. Your gaze slowly followed up the leather jacket clad arm, to the curve of a strong shoulder, to finally meet Aemond’s lilac gaze. 

Well shit.

“You’re the one that keeps saying it,” He commented, as he effortlessly brought you to stand. He nodded to everyone’s greeting, before looking down at his brother who was laying on the grass leisurely.

You immediately smoothed out your skirt, made sure it was covering all the appropriate areas, before returning to your seat in a huff. Baela playfully knocked your shoulder with hers as you resumed painting the letters on the cart board.

“No matter how much I hate to admit it, Aegon is right.”

“He is?” You asked, your brows rising in astonishment.

“I am?” He too, seemed equally surprised. He quickly rose to his feet, dusted off his clothes before arrogantly returning to his seat between you and Helaena, closest to his sister so his brother would have room to join you. 

Aemond picked up the discarded paintbrush, returning it to Helaena, who whispered a thanks.

“Aegon is right about what?” Aemond asked as he sat besides you, the leather of his jacket brushing against the wool off your knitted sweater. 

“That’s what I want to know,” You replied, ignoring the shiver that ran up your spine at Aemond’s proximity. There was something about that man; despite him being your friend and your best friend’s brother which made him off limits, it equally made him as enticing.  You suppressed a sigh as his cologne made its way up your nose, shifting your attention to their cousin Baela. 

“Okay don’t stone me for saying this, but you should get laid!” 

Your jaw dropped at her words, before laughing loudly, your head hanging back. You almost didn’t feel the way Aemond stiffened at your side, and you were oblivious to the look Helaena shot him. Your attention was pulled by Aegon who pointed in your direction, a massive smirk etched into his features.

“You see! I told you!”

“Alright!” You conceded, your hands rising in the air. You bumped Baela’s shoulder with a wink. “I’ll consider it, after midterms this week.”

“Just in time for Lannister Hall's Halloween Party…” Aegon grinned wickedly, all but rubbing his paint-stained hands maliciously. “You guys know what I’m thinking?”

“We need to go costume shopping!” Rhaena’s eyes sparkled in excitement, her hands flying to Helaena and Baela’s wrists. “Are we thinking group costumes?”

“Count me out,” Aemond said automatically, everyone booed him, but you.

“I wanted to go as Sally!” You pouted, not having planned for such an outcome.

“Sally?” Helaena frowned, scratching her head as if she was digging deep to figure out who you were talking about.   

“You know, from Nightmare Before Christmas?” 

The girls awed in approval.

“Hmm.” Aemond hummed, bringing his loose blond hair over his ear. It was so silky and long, you felt jealousy course through you. You were pulled from your thoughts as he continued. “Like Jack and Sally.”

“Yes, exactly!” You smiled.

“Oh, like the Blink-182 song!” Aegon nodded in understanding, clearly having never seen the movie. Helaena swatted him over the head as Baela and Rhaena called him uncultured. You rolled my eyes as you finished transcribing the slogan onto the poster. 

‘Save the monarchs and avocado producers from the Mexican Cartel!’

“What a mouthful…” You mumbled, prompting snickers to rise around the picnic table. 

“That’s what she said,” Aegon naturally retorted. 

“Maybe add some avocados around it! That’ll get people’s attentions,” Helaena proposed. You nodded, dipping your paintbrush into the water can. You twirled it into the water until the tip was clean.   

“Anyways, group costumes anyone?” Aegon reiterated.

“Well, we’re six…” Helaena began, Aemond swift to cut in.

“Five.”

“Four!” You raised your hand in agreement; you already had a costume. 

“Three, two, one!” Baela jumped in, bringing your hand down. 

“Enough with the shenanigans. It’s a wonder we ever get anything done.” Aemond sighed aggravatedly as the flimsy bottle of glitter opened between his fingers. The sparkles went everywhere, sticking to his black leather jacket and clinging to his hands. He ran a hand through his hair in annoyance.

“You have glitter in your hair,” You stated, looking up to meet his gaze at your side. His eyes flew away to his sister, who nodded slowly, as if trying not to laugh. Aemond flushed in anger as Aegon burst out laughing. “It’s okay, Aemond. You look good. Like a shiny vampire in Twilight.” 

Snickers followed your teasing words. Aemond rolled his eyes, a flush staining on his cheeks. 

“Guys, focus!” Rhaena called you all to order. “You’re all forgetting that there’s two big Halloween Parties happening this weekend: Lannister Hall’s on Saturday and Baratheon Hall’s on Friday. Officially, the October 31st is Saturday, so makes sense that Lannister’s will be bigger, but they're both costume parties.”

“We can do both!” You then agreed. It was settled. 

“Not happening,” Aemond remained firm on his stance.

“Oh, my gods, Y/n,” Rhaena whispered hurriedly. You looked up from your painted avocados, meeting her and Helaena’s wide eyes. 

“Hm?” 

Aegon nodded his head to look behind you; you turned, everyone turned their attention as three of the baseball players jogged your way.  Cregan, Jace, and Criston. Aemond stiffened at your side.

It was almost as if Cregan’s slow paced run was intentional, letting the wind run through his hair. Your eyes followed as he strode up to your picnic table, the baseball bat in his hand rising to rest over his shoulders, showing off his glorious biceps. 

“Hey guys,” He briefly glanced around the table before landing his gaze on you. “Hey Y/n!”

“Hey Cregan,” You raised a brow curiously, nodding your head towards Jace who approached his cousins inquiring about the project, and then to Criston who fist bumped Aemond. Cregan soon captured your attention with his bright smile. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your nasty fall earlier. Hope you didn’t hurt yourself too bad.” 

Your eyes widened in embarrassment, face flushing, quickly shooting Aegon an ‘I-will-smite-you-where-you-stand’ glare. He poked his tongue out at you. You flipped him off before returning your attention to Cregan. 

“It hurt my pride more than anything,” You conceded with a small smile, swallowing your embarrassment. Cregan laughed at your words before bringing down the bat at his side, his free hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Are you going to Lannister’s party on Saturday?”

“Yeah,” You agreed, a smile gracing your lips. Maybe you did need to get laid. “You?”

“Yeah. What are you going as?”

“We’re doing a group costume,” Aemond cut in, making you look up at him uncertainly. You tilted your head curiously, knowing damn well Aemond hated the idea of matching costumes. 

“We are,” You confirmed, shifting your attention back towards Cregan. 

“Cool. I’ll see each other there.”

“I’ll see you there!” You shot him one more grin before the baseball players ran back to the field to practice. You turned back in your seat, avoiding the temptation of analysing Aemond’s features in curiosity.

“So, group costumes?”

would you like to continue?

[drunk-person]

Leather gloves, jealous and dragons

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After the moons pass and Aemond and Lady Y/n's marriage becomes increasingly stronger, there is only one creature capable of keeping the prince away from his wife for more than a few hours, Vhagar. Sometimes Y/n cares, sometimes she doesn't, but if there's one thing she never cares about, it's the thick black gloves that her husband wears when he goes flying.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, gloves being used inappropriately (a lot of things have been used inappropriately on this blog lately, I'm talking about you training yard), fingering, clothed sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, no description for reader.

Word cont: 2.900 k

Author's note: Okay, I was just casually scrolling through Aemond's tag when this idea came up, and yes I was writing the bottom half of the fourth chapter of The Gossip, but I HAD to write this story! @peachysunrize I hope you like it, I added some inventions from my head in the middle of it 💕💕. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.

Y/n Arryn was a respectable and well-regarded lady, throughout Westeros there were men fighting for her hand as soon as she was old enough to marry. Proposals came from the North, the Rech and even Dorne, but the one that was of most interest to Lord Arryn was the one that came in a black envelope with red edges sealed with the Targaryen family crest.

The hand of the king had proposed marriage between Y/n and his grandson Prince Aemond Targaryen. The young woman felt her heart come to her mouth as soon as her father told her what he had decided, she would marry Prince Aemond in two moons.

The first time Y/n set foot on Kings Landing she was terrified, the idea of marrying a man she barely knew making her thoughts cloudier than water. And when she met Prince Aemond, this terror increased even more, something she didn't think was possible.

He was as scary and taciturn as they had told her, he barely gave her a look and only said two words of courtesy, other than muttering every now and then while looking down on everyone as if he were from a race superior to mere mortals.

Y/n's fear became even more overwhelming after she met Aegon, Aemond's older brother. Her heart ached as she listened to the gossip around the fortress about how he cheated on his wife, how he was always drunk, and how he spent more time in the brothels than in the fortress. Sadness took over her, and she imagined how terrible life itself would be from now on.

How wrong she was.

Things began to change on the night of the wedding when the prince vehemently denied a bed ceremony. Y/n was so nervous, the fear of the nuptials was already consuming her, combined with the fact that other people would be watching it made her tremble, until Aemond denied the ceremony and ripped that fear out of her.

The remaining fear was quickly extinguished when Aemond gently laid her on the bed and made her cry with pleasure in a way she never thought possible. Her hands tangled in his silver strands of hair as he touched her in places that made her blush with embarrassment as she remembered the other day.

From then on, little by little, she got to know her husband and every day she became more grateful for that. He still had that stoic and arrogant air, but now Y/n could see behind it, she saw the small acts of importance he gave her daily.

How he made a point of having at least one meal a day with her, how he asked how her day had been, how every now and then she would wake up after a passionate night and find an arrangement of beautiful flowers on the table in her room. And each of these things from the smallest to the largest warmed her heart until it was completely melted by her husband, to the point where she couldn't wait to be with him.

Little by little Aemond spent more and more time with her, and when they weren't tangled in the sheets so close together that you didn't know where one began and the other ended, they were sitting in the gardens talking, or reading together in some quiet place, or even just quietly enjoying each other's company. At a certain point, the only one who could receive more attention from Aemond than Y/n was Vhagar since he almost always went on long flights with the dragon.

That afternoon in particular Aemond was taking much longer than usual and Y/n was waiting for him impatiently as she walked around the room. He had promised to arrive before sunset so they would have time to walk around the garden, but now the sun had already set and the maids had even lit the candles.

The loud noise of the door suddenly invaded the room and Y/n promptly got up to wait for her husband, as soon as he entered her field of vision Y/n arched her eyebrows ironically.

-Did you decide to show up, husband? - Moons ago Y/n wouldn't have spoken to him in such a way in her wildest dreams, but now she was so familiar with him that she often didn't have as much politeness when speaking.

-I'm sorry, wife. - He said, removing the belt with the dagger and sword and throwing it on the couch. -Vhagar was a little sensitive this afternoon, she tends to want to fly longer distances when she is like this.

Y/n just made a humming sound with her mouth instead of responding, a habit she had picked up from Aemond without even realizing it. However, Y/n couldn't help biting her lower lip lightly when she saw him still wearing his riding clothes, she had never said anything to him, but seeing him returning from the flight always affected her mood and it was almost automatic so that she got excited.

-Wife… - Aemond murmured, approaching Y/n from behind and holding her firmly by the waist. -Are you by any chance jealous of Vhagar… a dragon?

His voice was incredulous and Y/n burned with embarrassment. Before she could respond Aemond laughed, something that rarely happened, which made her blush even more as she tried tried to free herself from his arms.

-You don't need to be embarrassed, I find it very flattering that you feel such appreciation for me to the point of feeling jealous. - He arched his eyebrow, still smiling. - No matter how unreasonable it may be.

-Husband.. - Y/n complained grumpily looking at her feet.

At that point she was no longer red only from the small misbehavior, but also from the thin, rough texture of her husband's riding gloves against her sensitive, soft skin. That was always a problem, she couldn't help but sigh every time she saw Aemond arrive wearing those damn gloves. And when he ripped them off and threw them haphazardly on the table? She felt a pressure between her legs that made her want to jump on him.

-What is it? Why are you all bristling, wife? - Aemond rubbed his hands against her arms and Y/n shivered even more making him arch his eyebrows again.

-They're your gloves, husband. - She said looking at the floor. – They are rough.

-I can take it off if you want. - He spoke, still gently stroking her arms, but after speaking he noticed that his wife lowered her eyes and didn't respond and then, approaching her lips to her ear, he spoke in a low voice, almost making her sigh. - You don't want me to take it off, do you?

-Do you like rougher things, dear wife? - And with the question he ran his hands down Y/n's body and slowly pulled the fabric of the dress up and accumulated them on her hips, making Y/n gasp as she felt the rough gloves passing over her thighs and squeezing them. slowly. Aemond couldn't help but smile when he noticed his wife's reactions to the roughest touch.

-Come here my dear, I'll show you how much I missed you. - He said, pulling her more and more towards him, sitting in one of the armchairs in the room while he placed her on his lap facing the large mirror and guided his hands to his wife's knees, slowly separating her legs, now being able to see the moisture that had formed in her intimacy.

-I haven't even touched you yet, dear wife, and you're already so wet for me. - His delicious voice sounded in her ear as he slowly moved his hands up her thighs, making her desperate for him to get to where she needed him most. The sight of his gloved fingers running up her legs made her roll her eyes with desire.

Aemond smiled mischievously and Y/n held her breath, not knowing where to look. His smile intensified as he brought his fingers to her cunt and at this point Y/n was barely breathing with desire.

Slowly he guided two fingers to her entrance and rubbed gently, pulling some of the moisture concentrated there and taking it to the pearl, which he began to rub languidly, eliciting sighs and moans from Y/n.

-You look so beautiful when you open your legs for me. - He murmured, brushing his lips gently against the shell of her ear, making her let out a louder moan. - So beautiful making these perfect sounds when I've barely touched you yet.

He then moved his fingers down and with a smooth movement that made Y/n roll her eyes, he penetrated just one gloved finger into her cunt. The sight of his finger disappearing inside her as he admired her with that look of pure adoration made her want to cry with desire.

-Very good beautiful girl. - He sighed as he slowly moved his finger teasing her, knowing very well that she needed more. - You always welcome me so well. How about another one?

He had barely asked and Y/n was already nodding her head practically begging for him.

-Such a needy lady my wife is. - He murmured as he inserted another finger inside her, making her moan his name with praise. - I can't leave our bed for a few hours because it becomes a meaningless mess.

Aemond guided his free hand to the front laces of Y/n's dress and pulled them tightly, loosening her wife's neckline more and more until her breasts were exposed to his pure delight, who guided his gloved hand to her erect nipple. of her gently pinching him as he admired her reflection in the mirror.

Meanwhile he moved his fingers slowly inside her and the feeling of the rough fabric of her husband's gloves against her own soft and wet insides made Y/n see stars and sigh in contentment with the double stimulation. As Aemond fucked her with his fingers he found that spongy spot that took her body out of orbit, and when she moaned uncontrollably he smiled even more mischievously against her neck, leaving kisses and bites there, pinching her nipples even more.

-So good husband. - Y/n sighed, leaning on his shoulder.

-You don't know how much I want to fuck you right now. -He murmured, biting her ear and sucking it while he nuzzled his nose in her hair.

Aemond penetrated her third finger making her whimper, but unlike before where he caressed her gently, he now started to get into a rougher rhythm, still slow but with force. And Y/n in turn just clung to his arms as she threw herself back, leaning against her husband's clothed chest, and moving her hips in search of more friction.

-So desperate my wife, throwing herself against my fingers like a beautiful filthy whore. -He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen across her face when he said that, so that Y/n could see herself better in the mirror, and the sight of her made her moan even louder.

His gloved fingers moving in and out of her cunt, his palm firmly massaging her mound, the fabric of the gloves slightly moistened and a white ring forming at the base of the fingers contrasting strongly with the dark color they possessed. The contractions of pleasure of her cunt crushing Aemond's skilled fingers as he smiled and bit her neck working even harder to coax pleasure out of her, he loved the feeling of her silky walls squeezing around him.

The way he curled his fingers and then moved them in and out made every nerve ending in Y/n burn. The roughness of the fabric was driving her crazy and she wanted so much more, she wanted to be set on fire.

-Husband. - She moaned, arching her back and pressing herself even more against him while turning her neck slightly to face him, taking one of her hands to his hair and removing the eye patch in the process. - I'm so close… so close. Please.

-I like it as much as you implore my dear. - He guided his other hand to her chin and squeezed it tightly, forcing her to keep her eyes exclusively on the mirror's reflection, the rough fabric of the glove making her gasp, while the sight of Aemond's now uncovered sapphire eye made her moan. - But I want you to keep your hungry little eyes on your pussy.

-See how wet she is for me, how well she takes my fingers, you are dripping my dear wife. - The movements became faster and stronger and Y/n felt some tears run down her cheeks as she moaned uncontrollably at the sight of Aemond's gloved fingers buried so deeply in her soaked cunt.

And when he accelerated the movements of both his fingers inside Y/n and his palm against her sensitive pearl, Y/n cried and screamed as she came against his hand, shuddering with pleasure.

Aemond was lost at that scene. He couldn't take his eyes off his wife's cunt writhing against his fingers as her juices oozed out between his fingers. Her face full of pleasure as she screamed and begged for his name was another thing that could easily kill him in that instant, he would certainly die happy with that scene.

-Look at the mess you make, my dear. - He said after removing his fingers from her trembling cunt. - Clean up for me like the good wife I know you are.

Aemond guided his hand to Y/n's lips and she lazily sucked on his gloved fingers. The taste of the fabric mixed with her own taste further numbing her mind, still clouded by the orgasm.

And Aemond could no longer contain himself when he saw that expression of contentment on her face as she sucked on his gloved fingers. And he quickly took her off his lap and bent her over the carpet, still facing the mirror, making her gasp from the abrupt movement.

Y/n had barely balanced herself and Aemond had already undid the laces of his own pants and guided his cock to her sensitive pussy. They both moaned senselessly as soon as he penetrated her completely. And he quickly brought his hands to the top of her dress, dragging it down and leaving her breasts completely free for him to massage and squeeze as he pleased.

He fucked her so well, and Y/n lost her breath with each firm thrust from Aemond and panted with pleasure as she whimpered for more with tears in her eyes.

She raised her head, looking towards the mirror again, and the sight of his hand massaging her hips and squeezing her nipples as he fucked her while still wearing those damned riding gloves made her eyes roll with pleasure, and she begged for him with Even more willing looking into his eyes and sighing when finding that blue glow that she had learned to love so much.

-I love that look you have when I'm inside you. - He groaned, rolling his eye with pleasure as he fucked her, and Y/n lowered her face once again. Aemond then guided his hand to her chin, forcing her to look at the mirror again, he wouldn't miss a second of that passionate look that his wife directed just at him and that made Aemond's heart race.

-No my dear, you keep those shining eyes on me while I fuck you like you deserve. - And removing his hand from her chin, Aemond went up to her hair and pulled it back, holding her firmly and keeping her gaze fixed on the mirror.

-Aemond, please. - She whimpered, enchanting him with those eyes that made him lose his head, and once again he guided the tips of his gloved fingers to the top of her thighs and caressed her forcefully, making his wife gasp and moan as she collapsed in front of him, who held her. by her hips as he fucked her with abandon looking for his own climax, which didn't take long to come when he came deep inside her.

The two remained motionless, their bodies pressed together and their breaths labored. Y/n brought her own bare hand to her husband's gloved hand and caressed it with gentle circles still completely lost in fleeting pleasure.

-You look even more beautiful when you're cumming all over my cock. - He murmured, still lost in pleasure against her hair, making his wife smile.

Y/n in turn, faced the mirror and sighed with contentment when she saw their reflection. Aemond behind her still panting with his usually stoic face relaxed in pleasure as he held her against him still holding her thighs firmly to keep her in contact with him as she squeezed lightly every now and then.

-Love you. - She said tiredly, still with her head lying on his shoulder, looking at him through the mirror.

Aemond didn't respond with words, he just mumbled like he always did. But Y/n no longer needed words, she had learned to distinguish every look, every touch and every sigh of her husband to know that he was also in love, especially when he pulled her even closer and left a soft kiss on her neck .

Tag list: @slut-for-m3 @fallout-girl219

[its-actually-minicika]

So you know how some girls dream that their man is cheating on them sometimes, and they get super offended and actually mad about it?

Harshest Winters Aemond dreams stuff like that. And you bet your ass he wakes you up at 3 am to ask you if you still love him

Aemond: Tell me the truth. Are you cheating on me?

(Y/N): Aemond, we're practically together 24/7. When would I cheat on you?

Aemond: Well shit, darling, you still shoWER WITHOUT ME

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Sweet Nectar // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary: Aemond feels ever so slightly jealous when he watches his wife feed their babe, he'll have a taste for himself tonight.

WARNINGS: mdni, afab!reader, lactation kink, breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, reader is already a mom, breastfeeding, aemond craving the good old tiddy milk, tiddy sucking, teasing, biting, nipple play, aemond is so down bad for the milkers. + not proofread.

WC: 2,078

A/N: I suddenly got the urge to write this I'm not kidding 😭😭 // diviver credits to @cafekitsune

You coo softly while gently rocking back and forth as the small babe in your arms begins getting fussy in between your arms, you pat her gently and reassure the fussy babe, while caressing her cheek.

“Are you hungry, my dear?” You ask her as if she'll respond verbally, a small croak leaves her throat before she coos, stretching her tiny arms and placing it upon your breast as a way to answer your question. You chuckle at her action before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Shall I take her to the nursemaid, princess?” The maidservant allotted to you questions, putting your comfort as a first priority, you shake your head, “No need, I shall feed the babe myself.” You reject her politely, “Can you undo the lace?” You ask her, and she nods, her fingers making quick work of the lace that's holding the top of your gown together, you pull the material down — along with your chemise — just enough for one of your breasts to be exposed but cover everything else.

You hold the baby in a feeding position, and she immediately latches onto your nipple, suckling as she makes soft satisfied noises, as her hunger is being satiated. You giggle at her cuteness and watch as she closes her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

The door to your shared chamber opens and you lift your head up to see Aemond, carrying a bunch of scrolls and books in his hands, he sets them down on the nearby table before turning his attention to you. “My prince.” the maidservant greets and Aemond nods, “Prepare a bowl of water and a rag, after that, leave us alone.” He commands her and she bows, swiftly beginning to do what she's been told. After the maid leaves the bowl and leaves, Aemond quickly begins to retire for the night, undressing himself, usually, he would call in a manservant or you would help him, but he cannot call the manservant when you're breastfeeding, and neither can you help him because of that.

So he does it himself, after undoing his upper garment, he wears nothing but his white plain transparent tunic and breeches ; that are more suited for sleepwear, loose and thin. Aemond later washes his hands and forearms thoroughly, ridding them of any kind of dirt before making his way to you.

“How was your day, Husband?” You ask him, watching as he comes near and stands next to you, staring at you for a second before sitting down beside you. “Hm, t'was decent, what about you?” He asks you, his gaze dropping down to your chest. “It was good, I did not wish to partake in any social meetings today, but rather decided to spend it with her.” You look down at your child who is now sleeping. Aemond hums before he lays his head on your shoulder getting comfortable in your presence enough to express his desires.

“I want to have my wife tonight.” He mutters, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck as his gaze remains fixated on your chest while he rests his hand on your thigh, slowly drawing imaginary patterns on it, indicating what he wants. Your face heats up at his implications, “You will, husband, let me call the servant and have her taken to the nursery for tonight.” You reply to him, slowly pulling her away from your breast and covering yourself up.

“I will call for the servant.” He offers, hoping to help you out and you nod, he opens the chamber door stepping out and turning to the guard before asking the guard to fetch a servant, to which he immediately obeys and goes to get one. Aemond gets inside, making his way over to you before he takes your child from you and hands her over to the servant who had entered the room just then. “Take care of her for the night in the nursery, should there be any news that she was hurt in any way, I will cut off all of your limbs.” He threatens to which the poor servant just nods her head in fear assuring him that no harm would occur to your child, and then she takes her away.

The door closes and Aemond secures it tightly so it doesn't open upon impact. And all the while Aemond was talking to the servant, you had quickly gotten undressed and were now sitting in your chemise, putting the gown that had fallen to the floor away.

Aemond goes straight to the bed and sits on it and you watch as he removes his eyepatch, placing it on the table next to the bed before he turns his attention to you. He looked so ethereal when he was staring at you, his sapphire glinted as the fire from the chambers reflected off from it. “Come.” He commands and you slowly make your way over to him, now standing in front of him.

He looks up at you the tension thick in the air as his eye is filled with pure desire for you. he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest and pulling you, this causes you to stumble and lose your balance which he takes as an advantage to pull you onto the bed with him, flipping you over and getting on top.

His hair curtains around your face as he stares at you, his eye moving back and forth between your own, taking in your beauty. You raise your hand and gently tuck his hair into his ear before caressing his cheek, “You're so beautiful.” You hear him say and you smile, “I could say the same about you, husband.” You respond, He gives you a small smile before tilting his head slightly and connecting his lips to yours.

His lips felt soft against yours, you reciprocated and kissed him back. You felt the heat bloom in your core as he slowly grinds himself against your lower abdomen while kissing you. He slowly slides his hand against yours before intertwining your fingers with his. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, allowing him to deepen the kiss which resulted in him humming in satisfaction.

He pulled away shortly after, panting for air, his kisses then trailed down towards your neck, he pecked and nipped at the skin of your neck, leaving bite marks as a way to mark you as his, he untwined his hand from yours to pull down your chemise, causing your tits to spill out of their confines.

He presses kisses down to the valley in between your breasts before he stays there for a while, “You know, I'm jealous—” he begins, his other hand coming up and gently fondling with your breast, “— that our daughter gets to have these whenever she wishes, meanwhile I'd have to wait until night.” He whines slightly, his thumb pressing over your sensitive nipple making you gasp slightly.

He decides he doesn't want to waste any more time and immediately wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling and suckling on your breast like a babe, he swirls his tongue and flicks it up and down the bud, Aemond hums in satisfaction when he feels the taste of your milk in his mouth.

He squeezes and fondles your other breast, rolling your nipple between his index and thumb finger and pulling meanly on it. Your breathing becomes shorter and faster as you begin to get aroused by his ministrations which prompts you to rub your thighs together trying to ease the throbbing between your legs with some friction.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Aemomd, but he instead focuses his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions and drinking your milk selfishly for himself, his teeth grazes against your bud and you wince slightly at the burn it causes only for him to bite onto it, making you whine and squirm before he sucks on it again as a way to soothe the pain he just caused. He pulls away with a wet pop and you take notice of the milk that's dripping from the side of his mouth and down to his neck which was such a perverse sight, yet you couldn't help make you feel more aroused so you guided his head back to your breast again.

And so he took your breast in his mouth once again, drinking all of your milk up you moaned in pleasure as his tongue flicker up and down your bud. You whimpered because you are sensitive from earlier feeding.

You felt him humping against your thigh as he tried ease the tension between his very own legs, he let go of your breast, unable to hold himself back anymore, he sat straight up and began to slip down his pants and take off his tunic, you did the same with your chemise, discarding it and throwing it someone to the side of your chamber.

He spreads your legs wide and lines his cock against your entrance slowly pushing it in, this causes you to tremble in excitement as his cock stretches you deliciously, you let out a gasp once he is fully settled. He lifts your hips off the mattress, holding you by your thighs as he slowly begins to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, almost as if he's teasing himself until he begins to pick up on the momentum, thrusting his hips back and forth, he begins to pick up the speed quite steadily.

You grind your hips to match his rhythm as your body jolts up and down the bed, your tits bouncing as a result, the moans of his name leave your lips like holy chants, “Aemond— oh fuck– right there– Aemond—!” all the while his tip is continuously hitting that sweet spot of yours, he grips one of your breasts and stares at it intently, “They look so good when they're swollen and full of milk.” He refers to your tits, he squeezes your tit slightly and watches as droplets of milk begin oozing out. “Oh gods— you're still full– fuck.” He quickly shifts his weight, dropping your lower body down onto the mattress and leaning forward to take your breast in his mouth while he fucks you.

“Seven fucking hells–— I don't think I can ever get enough of this ; perhaps I should keep you pregnant constantly, Yes? So your tits are always full of milk, for the babe” he grunts, his peak nearing as he mouths at your nipple. “And for me— ” His thrusts become more frantic and desperate, “You would like it wouldn't you? I know you would. You'd love to be full of me— I can only imagine how gorgeous you'd look, constantly waddling around while carrying my child— Answer me.” He growls. “Yes yes yes yes! yesyes! Aemond! I'd love it so so so much please please—” You babble as you feel your peak nearing. “Good girl— fuck!” He moans as he peaks, and your babbling is cut short as you gasp because you too reach your high right after him, the pleasure explodes inside you like a volcano, slowly seeping and coursing through your veins, you feel hot, warm, cold, suffocated all at the same time due to the intensity of the pleasure.

Aemond slows down his thrusts before fully stopping and pulling out, he watches as your cunt pushes out his spend to which he tuts disappointedly at before scooping it up with his finger and pushing it all back in.

“Here I am; planning to keep you full of my child and yet you're here denying it? Such a disobedient wife.” He slaps your clit as a punishment making you whimper, “I apologise— t'wasnt my intention.” You reply, breathlessly and he hums.

He lays down next to you, catching his breath along with you. You watch and his hands rests on your lower abdomen. He grabs you by your hips and turns you around to face him before he grabs the sheets and throws them over you both before pulling you close, your breasts pressing up against him, and the milk transfering over to his chest, making it sticky.

“Aem— it's messy.” Your voice comes out slurred and Aemond simply hums, “Let it be.” He hugs you even tighter, and you sigh, before wrapping your arm around his waist, hugging him back and you both slowly drift off into sleep.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[haetero]

all mine.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x afab!reader. WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

CW: jealous sex, mating press (hehe), unprotected sex, breeding kink!!, creampie, kind of angsty but its porn w a little bit of plot. use of high valyrian + a sprinkle of aegon bashing! mdni <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was originally a 500 word drabble and then... i went a bit nuts.. if you enjoyed the fic, pls lmk! not proofread we die like literally everyone lol.

ABSTRACT:

aemond gets caught up with his royal duties and finds himself spending less time with his precious lady wife. determined to take matters in your hands, you make some silly choices involving another prince, which only makes things worse. till it gets better :)

this time, you think you deserved it.

what begun as a harmless jest to get aemond to pay attention to you quickly led to letting aegon drunkenly sweet talk you at supper. and yes, pretending to flirt with your husband’s brother in front of him might not have been the best decision, but you were just having fun right?

wrong.

you were perhaps the stupidest woman in all the seven kingdoms. really, there was no rationale for choosing to engage with aegon for more than ten minutes at a time and yet here you were, ‘giggling’ at his piss poor jokes and pretending to listen to his made up tales of something you couldn’t care to remember.

you could only chastise your past self for your poor decision making skills as aegon whispered into your ear, far too close to your liking. he stunk of the rich, dornish wine served earlier in the evening and his eyes lazily stared at the expanse of your chest. but regardless of whether he was drunk or not, aegon had enough wits about him to realise his brother was furious.

a sly grin on aegon’s face, he seemed to understand the predicament you were in and leaned in to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, before loudly announcing his exit with a parting “my lady”, to further enrage aemond.

internally groaning, you waited till aegon left before daring to take a peek at aemond. but he wasn’t even looking at you.

the complete lack of response terrified you. in fact, you’d almost convinced yourself he didn’t care at all, until you noticed his blanching knuckles gripping his silverware. “aemond, i-," you begun.

in an instant, aemond had gotten up out of his seat and finally looked at you with a look in his eyes that only meant one thing. he mumbled out a quick excusal for the pair of you, before extending his arm towards you with a pointed stare.

you were well and truly fucked.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

before you can realise what’s happened, aemond’s dragged you to your shared chambers at a pace you’re struggling to keep up with. quickly dismissing your maids, he shuts the doors firmly, before turning his back to you and shucking off his outer clothing. you dejectedly do the same, struggling out of your dress. you leave them in a heap on the floor, stripping down till you’re in your underthings.

the sounds of aemond changing have quietened down, spurring you to take a peek at him. he’s left in his pants; his broad shoulders and back on display for you to admire. maybe he'll listen to you if you explain yourself, you delude yourself. tiptoeing over to where he stands, you attempt a sheepish half smile, grabbing onto his bare arm to direct his attention to you.

“please, i’m sorry, i wasn’t thinking, i just missed you,” you start, attempting to make eye contact with aemond. he’s yet to talk to you, pointedly ignoring you. he simply stands there, jaw clenched, refusing to acknowledge you any further.

you feel stupid, really. doing all this to gain the attention of the man standing in front of you and even then, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. you wait for a few more seconds before deciding to save yourself the embarrassment. with a sigh, you turn back to your shared bed and sit yourself down.

you rush to unpin your hair, readying yourself for sleep. the dull throb of want in your stomach has you frowning but you know the only person who could satisfy you is aemond. in your distracted state, you don’t see that aemond’s turned back to face you.

“do you take me for a fool?” you freeze, not expecting that of all questions. you start to respond when he cuts you off with a glare. aemond huffs out a curse and walks over to stand in between your legs. a part of you think he looks majestic from this view, but you’re quick to silence your thoughts as he slightly lowers himself till he’s level with you.

“you missed me, so you thought it best to what? throw yourself at my brother?” the affronted look in your eyes tells aemond he’s wrong but he’s not feeling very charitable as you try to come up with right thing to say. “and you thought i’d just let him have you?”

“no! i swear, i was being childish aemond,” you try to reason with him. the longer you think about it, the faster you realise how childish you really were. but it doesn’t change your intentions. you were unsatisfied and tired. but you also hadn’t been this close to aemond without someone else being nearby in a while. the dull throbbing sensation in your cunt was starting to spread and you fought the urge to rip your underthings off and let aemond have his way with you.

“if you wanted something, all you had to do was tell me, not run off to aegon,” he muses, his right arm coming up to trace the veins in your neck. aemond can feel the way your breath stutters; he takes note of the way your lips quiver and fingers curl up slightly at his words. you not-so-subtly push your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of your lust by yourself.

a satisfied grin curls at his lips and aemond, finally, leans into the slope of your neck. you shiver at the feather-like sensation of his lips pressing into your skin, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself before he pushes you onto your back. “aemond, i need only you,” you shyly mumble, before reaching up on your elbows to undo the clasp of his eye patch.

aemond lets you do as much before throwing it behind him, fixing you with a lust-filled gaze that has you whimpering within a second. he leans over you, and makes a show out of dragging the fabric of your underthings down till he’s rid of them, throwing them to the side. you’re shaking as you watch him eye your cunt with a starving look.

calloused hands grab at the fat of your thighs, kneading the soft skin there before pushing them to your chest. you mewl as cold air fans over your wet cunt, catching the way aemond eyes your hole greedily twitching around nothing. “this is what you wanted, right?”

“yes, yes, please,” you beg. if you weren’t so desperate already, you would have gagged at the sound of your whiny tone. but aemond seems to like your desperation. aemond undoes the string of his pants, before palming himself with a squeeze that has him sighing in relief. your mouth waters at the sight before you.

aemond gives himself a moment before he climbs over you, his frame gently pushing onto your knees in the position you’re in. your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of his warmth enveloping you.

“no, look at me, ābrazȳrys,” your silver haired lover grunts, as he goes to drag his cockhead over your slit. “i should get aegon to pleasure your whorish cunt instead.”

your immediate protests brings a smug grin to aemond’s face. of course, he would never let his brother anywhere near the ethereal sight beneath him, but seeing the tortured look on your face brings him a sick sense of pride. he plays with you like this for a moment, rubbing his cockhead over and over your clit till you’re nearly crying out in want.

after what feels like a lifetime, he decides to push into you. aemond intently watches the way his cock catches at the rim of your pussy before he slams into you. your resulting gasp has aemond’s chest tightening as he loses himself to the feeling of your walls clenching around him immediately.

letting out a strangled moan of your name, he sets a brutal pace from the get-go, ploughing forward until you’re clawing at his neck and shoulders for a reprieve. you’re a quivering mess under him, a mix of moans and cries escaping you. you can feel him everywhere.

a light flush rises on aemond’s cheeks and upper chest, a pink hue that matches the fine dresses you might wear to a banquet or a tourney. your teary eyes trace the faint red lines peaking up on his broad shoulders, evidence of your passion that has your core clenching tighter around him. aemond catches your stare, mouth agape in a euphoric state of mind and pushes your knees down even further, if it was possible.

his wife, his lover, his, his, only his.

"it's okay, sweetling," he vows, fat cock bullying your walls as he moulds himself into you. he bends down to leave a path of kisses trailing down your neck, assuming a steady yet punishing pace into your sopping core. "for me, remember? you can take it for me, right?" aemond groans, drunk on the way your pussy sucks him in, eyes squeezed shut in the pleasure you both share.

leaning back, aemond watches you grip the sheets tightly, he feels the way you soak his cock every time he rocks into your pussy. you've gone half mad, tongue lolling out as you chant his name as a mindless mantra. he drags your knees down to instead wrap around his hips, bringing you closer to plant wet kisses down your neck, nipping at the salty skin. you keen into his ear at the change of position, untangling your hands from the sheets to cling tightly to aemond.

"feel good, love?" he murmurs, trailing his arm down till it lights presses onto your stomach as he drives his cock back into you. "tonight's the night i'm filling you up. that way, my fool of a brother will know to stay away from you.”

you don’t even think you’re making sense as you blabber your agreement. you want, no, you need him to give you his heir. you need him to drive himself further into you till you feel him in your chest, in your heart.

the thought of a miniature aemond targaryen running around has your heart swelling in your chest; the life you’ve always wanted but never let yourself dream of for too long. your lives were far too cruel for such a precious being to be born into it, yet aemond seems hellbent on making it come true as he bullies his cock further and further into your cunt.

aemond slows to a dangerous grind and bends down to capture your lips, his lean torso catches on your clit as you arch up into his mouth. "aemond pl-please, i want it," you whine, your hips buck as his languid thrusts reach a spot deeper than you thought possible. "you're mine," he groans into the heat of your mouth, skilled fingers come down to rub taut circles on your aching clit. he feels the telltale signs of your trembling walls and your greedy eyes beg him for release.

“fuc-fuck, nyke’m bē konīr,” aemond huffs, feeling your cunt swell around his cock as he rams deeper into you. you’re scrambling to hold onto anything; his shoulders, his wrists, the pillow, the sheets.

when you start twitching around his cock, walls fluttering at a pace aemond can't keep up with, he thinks you're the most divine creature in all the seven kingdoms.

and as you cream around his cock, aemond finds himself pushing himself into you one more time, filling you with his hot seed and the unspoken promise to cherish you for as long as you'd have him.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

high valyrian translations:

ābrazȳrys - wife. nyke’m bē konīr - i’m almost there.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! House Of The Dragon x Game of Thrones! Reader|Part 3

<<< Part 2

Jacaerys is in love with the idea of being a father.

In fact he took Aemma riding on the back of Vermax right after she was born just like his great grandmother Alyssa did with Viserys, just for excitement.

Rhaenyra, loves Aemma and teared up when you named the baby after her mother, she even thought about wedding Aegon III to her when they reached adulthood.

After arriving to King's Landing, the first thing you see is Aemond training while you stand beside Jace and Luke watching him, as you hold your sleeping daughter in your arms.

Jacearys felt jealous on how Aemond took away your attention.

Despite, the real reason why you are impressed by Aemond's skills, is because it reminded you of your uncle/father Jaime, you always loved to watch him train.

While training Aemond notices you and stops, eyeing you and the baby intensely which made you uncomfortable.

All Aemond could feel was anger and jealousy, because you were supposed to be his.

When Vaemond arrives, you prepare yourself and your daughter, you show up dressed in the colors of House Velaryon.

"Vaemond has forgotten that Lady Rhaenys descends from the house Baratheon on her mother's side, Also my daughter, princess Aemma..."

You stand in the middle of the throne room, holding your daughter up proudly for everyone to see her white hair and purple eyes.

Even if you and Jace are the children of Harwin Strong, but your daughter inherited Rhaenyra's appearance, your mother's genes skipped a generation.

Vaemond, decided to insult you and call you and your mother 'whores' as you return back to your husband and mother's side.

Of course, in a spin of seconds, Daemon sliced the Velaryon's man head in half, as Jacaerys blocked yours and Aemma's view.

However, Jace was smirking, happy at what his stepfather did.

Later that day at the feast, Jace and Luke made a promise to you that they would behave and ignore whatever Aemond and Aegon say.

When Jace asked to dance with you at the feast, you objected, insisting on him dancing with Helaena instead.

Aegon and Aemond thought that your marriage wasn't the best with your twin due to how you turned Jace down.

Things escalated when the pig gets placed on the table and Luke whispers a joke in your ear at the exact moment, making you laugh.

Even though the joke wasn't about Aemond, but Luke knew exactly what he was doing as he smirked at his uncle...taunting him.

"Final tribute, to the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey, each of them handsome, wise...and Strong"

Before Jace and Luke could even think about getting angry, you raise a glass with a huge smile on your face.

"Indeed, Uncle, we are strong afterall, my brothers and I descend from the two purest Valyrian houses, Targaryen and Velaryon, my mother is also the heir to the seven kingdoms"

Your grandfather Tywin taught you how to act wisely in such situations.

Aemond wished to speak more, but one look from Daemon was enough to let him know that you are a red line.

However, Aemond only gave you one last stare, as if to make a promise.

A promise where he will have you as a wife.

Part 4>>>

[ichorai]

tourney favor ; aemond targaryen (m).

pairing ; aemond targaryen x wife!reader

synopsis ; it was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. but it wasn’t improper by any means. strange, perhaps, but not improper. you glanced back at aemond. he was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched. was he jealous?

wc ; 2.1k

themes ; smut, mild fluff, established relationship (married)

warnings / includes ; jealous aemond, unprotected sex, breeding kink and brief mentions of pregnancy/children, wall sex, foul language, mentions of violence/murder

a/n ; if this fic sounds familiar, i took some lines from my far-lengthier aemond fic, balance the scales :)

main masterlist.

A grand tourney was held in honor of Jahaerys and Jahaera’s eighth nameday. 

You sat beside Helaena in the high platforms on the elongated arena, hands twisting in your lap. Tourneys usually bored you to no end—watching men hurt themselves over little else than theatrical show and bragging rights was not something you were very keen on. It felt like a waste of time to you, especially because you were already spoken for—you’d much rather be reading, or honing your needlework, or playing with the twins. To your other side was your husband, Aemond, looking equally disinterested in the event. You noticed his long fingers tapping impatiently against his knee, as if he were itching to leave. His older brother Aegon was nowhere to be seen, most likely somewhere in the bowels of the Street of Silk. 

You couldn’t help but feel envious. How come the father of the children the realm was celebrating was off gallivanting through the city, probably sunken into his cups and his whores? He was free to fuck whoever and whenever he wanted. Whilst you had to sit for hours on end beside your beloved husband, with whom you wanted to do nothing more than clamber into his lap and kiss him until the two of you grew dizzy.

Perhaps a large part of your agitation was due to the fact that Aemond had sunken to his knees in your chambers only an hour before, his tongue spelling worship over your drenched core. And you’d been so close, ever so close to falling off the edge—

Until there came a knock on the door, and Criston Cole’s muffled voice echoed through the shut door. He had to urgently speak to Aemond before the tourney, apparently. 

Something akin to a growl caught in his throat as your husband reluctantly drew away from you. You moaned lowly at the loss, sitting up at the edge of the four-poster bed as you watched him wipe your arousal from his chin.

“We’ll resume this tonight,” he had whispered into your flushed ears, before whisking off to speak to Ser Criston.

Seven fucking hells.

It took several moments for you to compose yourself, before you called in one of your handmaidens to help you dress for the tourney. Redo your hairstyle, too, because Aemond had certainly mussed it beyond salvation.

And now, as you fussed with your fingers in the stands, boredly clapping whenever the crowd was, it only came as an utter surprise when you heard your name called out. You sat up straighter, eyes falling from your hands to the riding grounds down below. It didn’t slip past your notice seeing Aemond tense, his fingers curling into a pale fist over his thigh.

A handsome knight donned in black-and-yellow armor stared up at you. You faintly recalled the patterned sigil emblazoned into the shield he was holding—he was of House Darklyn. He had taken off his helmet momentarily, lodged between his waist and his free arm. Gorgeous dark locks spilled over the nape of his neck, only slightly curled. 

The olive green of his eyes gleamed boldly, full lips upturned into a charming smile. “Might I be honored with your favor, my Lady? I can certainly use the luck.” 

Your gaze flickered over to his formidable opponent, a strong and muscular man, shrouded in white. His shield bore a red lion. House Reyne.

It was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. But it wasn’t improper by any means. Strange, perhaps, but not improper. You glanced back at Aemond. He was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched.

Was he jealous?

You could feel the muted arousal roar back to life in your lower abdomen. 

“Of course, Ser,” you called back with a knowing smile in your husband’s direction. You grabbed a ring of woven flowers and tossed it down over the jousting lance. “Be careful.”

Off the Darklyn knight went with your favor swaying by the lance’s handle, the metal grating of his helmet pulled down over his grinning features. You weren’t even sure what his name was.

The joust began just as you sat back down beside Aemond—but you found yourself barely paying attention to what was unfolding, and rather kept your eyes trained on your husband.

“Rather improper of him to ask for your favor,” he commented snidely, voice lowered so only you could hear. “You’re my wife.”

“Perhaps you should be down there, then,” you replied lightly, offering him a cruel smile. You knew well just how little Aemond cared for all the glamor the tourneys offered. “Show them who I belong to.”

Expression hardening to stone, he suddenly gripped your arm with iron-strength, hauling you up out of your seat, despite your half-hearted protests. You wondered if the Darklyn knight would search for you once the tourney was over. You found yourself unsurprised that you couldn’t care less about him.

Especially not with Aemond leading you down the halls of the Keep, twisting several sharp turns before shoving your chamber’s entrance open. Just as quickly as you were yanked inside, the wooden door slammed shut behind you, and you were promptly shoved up against it.

His lips were angry over yours, claiming you, biting you, devouring you completely. You fell slack in his arms, one of your hands resting over his chest, almost as if you were debating between pushing him away or pulling him closer. He swallowed the noises of contentment that slipped from your throat.

“You just couldn’t wait,” he snarled, shoving you against the door harder until he was pressed flush over your body. Jealous Aemond was certainly a sight to behold. “My greedy little wife.”

You preened at his words, arching your back, desperate to reconnect your lips to his. He didn’t put up a fight, allowing you to fight for dominance, claw at his neck and chest in desperation as you kissed him as if he were the very air you needed to breathe. 

Wasting no time, he reached down to yank the bottom of your dress upwards—cursing under his breath at all the damned layers you were wearing—and hurriedly shoved away your shift so he could reach your pulsing cunt. 

You were drenched. Warm and wet and fuck, he couldn’t wait a moment longer—

Sensing this, you made quick work of his trousers, yanking them downwards before moving up to pop off his tunic’s buttons. A startled, pleasured cry—verging on a hysterical sob—tore from your lungs and rattled across the chambers when he suddenly thrusted two long fingers into you, his thumb working quick circles over your sensitive clit. You’d already been denied an orgasm once, and you found a litany of breathless pleas erupting from your lips, as if it were just second nature.

“Please, Aemond, please—” You choked on whatever else you had to say, eyes rolling back as your orgasm slammed into you far too soon for your liking. Heavy and all-consuming. 

But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, more, you’d always want more of your husband.

“Aemond, please, I need you inside,” you croaked, letting out a sigh when he drew a few tender kisses to your forehead. A glimpse of the softer side of your husband, scarcely shown unless it was with you. You loved him like this, but you wanted—no, you needed—him to lose all abandon with you. 

“If you won’t fuck me, I’ll ask the Darklyn knight,” you growled with a serrated tone.

Aemond drew away from you, violet eye ablaze. Was it fury or was it possessiveness written so plainly over his features? Perhaps both. “What did you say?” he whispered, a hand suddenly surging up to grip your jaw.

“I said,” you huffed, staring at him with a challenging quirk of your brows, “I’ll ask another man to fuck me. If my husband won’t do so, that is.”

Silence on Aemond was scarier than anything. You wished he would speak, or scream, or call you filthy names. But no, he… he was observing you. Calculating. Like a cat would a mouse. 

Or a dragon would its kill.

With one fluid motion, he drew his length into his hand—long and hard and angrily weeping with beads of pearly precum. The other hand abruptly flipped you around with surprising strength, crowding you against the wall beside the door so your back faced him. You moaned out his name when he pushed your dress up over your hips and dragged his tip over your drenched core.

“Please,” you begged, bracing yourself against the wall and jutting your hips back. If you could hear yourself over the buzzing in your ears, you’d be absolutely mortified at how delirious you sounded.

In one quick motion, he sheathed himself into you. Your warm, pulsating cunt was gripping him like a vice, eliciting a shuddering groan from his lungs. You mirrored his reaction, squeezing your eyes shut and holding onto him for dear life as he began to pound into you with no restraint. The lewd noises ricocheting in the room made your cheeks heat up until your entire face felt like it had been set aflame. With each snap of his hips into yours, you found yourself crying his name like a mantra, his hands bruising over your waist, pulling you back into him.

You were blubbering incoherently, begging for more. You just about lost it when one of his hands disappeared from your waist—only to roll over your aching clit with quick circles. A sob broke past your lips and you clenched hard around his length, feeling every hot inch of him buried deep inside you. His pace staggered with the sudden shift and he groaned out a curse, followed by your name.

“Who did you want to fuck?” he bit out, slightly breathless, words dripping with venom. “What’s his name?”

“I—” You hiccupped a cry with a particularly loud thrust. “Oh, fuck, Aemond!”

“Right,” he hissed, bending forward to bite down on your strained neck. “I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. Not pretty boys in silly costumes—mmph—not daft knights who lose tourneys. Me.”

The last word was ground out when your cunt spasmed around his girth once more, and you wailed out his name as your orgasm rolled over you. It was a wonder nobody had barged in to see if there was someone being murdered. 

“Perhaps I’d have to get you all round and swollen with my child. Show them who you belong to. Who fucked you this good. Would you like that, sweet wife?” 

“Yes, yes, Aemond, I need—I need you to come inside. Please, I need you to stuff me full.”

You reached behind you to blindly grapple for his arm and he briefly shifted the angle and began pounding into you even harder. His cock hit your sweet spot just right, and you saw stars swimming over your vision. 

A near animalistic noise tore through Aemond’s chest when you tightened around him one last time, your warm cunt fluttering around his cock. His rhythm faltered. What drove him over the edge was when he glanced down and saw the thick ring of your creamy arousal at the base of his cock. Gods, you were… beyond perfect.

With a staggered rasp of your name, he thrust into you thrice more before he spilled his seed deep in you, thick spurts of white coating your slick walls.

Heavy pants filled the room. You barely registered his lips kissing along your bare shoulder, where your dress had slipped in the midst of your heated frenzy. 

Slow, he eased himself out of you. “You did so well for me,” he murmured against your skin, smoothing his hands over your waist. “Are you alright?”

“Mmh,” you hummed, because no words would come to you at the moment.

He laughed, a wonderfully rich sound, before gently urging you towards the bed. 

“Get some rest, wife,” he told you, laying you onto the plush mattress and dipping down to kiss your forehead. He regarded you with raw adoration folded over his expression. Though, it was quick to melt into a thunderous one with his next sentence. “I have a certain knight to exchange words with.”

If you hadn’t been so high off your orgasms and exhausted with the new-found urge to sleep the whole night away, you would’ve realized that Aemond was likely going to commit manslaughter over something as trivial as a tourney favor. But you hadn’t thought about it much, not in your sex-addled haze, and promptly fell asleep with only the dream of silver-haired babes with wonderful purple eyes to accompany you. 

[dreamlandcreations]

"His sweet little niece" - wants to and tried to kill him

Aemond:

Smoke, Fire and Ash

AEMOND WEDDING POV PART 1

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Thoughts of manipulation and hurt, violence and assault. Obsessive themes and possessiveness.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: AEMOND!POV, Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Word count: 5.7k

Note: The highly requested and anticipated Aemond!POV from the wedding to the fateful night. Thank you all for showing so much love and excitement for this, I had fun writing it. As always read the warnings and please, please don't expect anything happy, or fluffy or healthy. This is a Dark!fic. Anyway.... enjoy you heathens <3

BOLD ITALICS ARE INNER MONOLOGUE

AEMOND POV CHAPTERS 50-52

PART ONE : A Union of Green and Black

Aemond had anticipated the raven returning to Kings Landing. He had waited for it patiently, spending his days assisting his mother and brother, or roaming the realm for the letter that would give him the answer he knew was coming. And when the day rolled over, and he had been in his chambers, and Ser Cole had summoned him to the Small Council Chambers, he had known his answer had arrived.

‘Queen Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and of the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm has accepted King Aegon’s terms of treaty…’

Queen?

That whore did not deserve the title Queen. 

When King Viserys had died, Aemond had turned to Ser Willis Fell, “Is Aegon king?” The One-Eyed Prince asked, “Or must we kneel and kiss the old whore's cunny?” 

And when word had arrived to Kings Landing that the Whore of Dragonstone had named herself Queen, and aquired Viserys' crown, Aemond had scowled and raged in his chambers alone.

Must we kneel and kiss the old whore's cunny?

It felt like they were now. 

A treaty, Aemond inwardly scoffed. 

‘Princess Y/n Velaryon, the Princess of Dragonstone has accepted the betrothal to Prince Aemond Targaryen.’

Aemond had known you would have had said yes.

You had no other choice. 

The wait for the next moon was agony, and Aemond found himself so restless that he returned to Harrenhal to see a pair of familiar, piercing green eyes. Alys Rivers had waited for his return, and upon his arrival, did not seem at all surprised.

"I saw you were coming in a dream."

He believed her. 

He spent the next days fucking himself into her, spilling his seed deep into her womb as she so graciously welcomed it. She would open her mouth when he asked, and swallow his seed greedily like she was told. He would thrust roughly into the back of her throat and piston his hips into her core for hours until she begged for mercy, and cried upon his member. She would cook for him, and dote on him, and whisper praise into his ears. 

Eventually the time came, and he had to make his leave back to Kings Landing. He had given her a necklace of Valyrian steel, with three large green emeralds dripping from its centre as a parting gift. She had received the gift in thanks, and taken his cock into her mouth in appreciation. 

When Aemond had returned to Kings Landing, he felt nothing but excitement to the date. You were to be his. You were to leave your whore mother and bastard brothers and spend your life with him in Kings Landing.

Would you attack him again?

Would you behave?

He hoped you would put up a fight. 

When the day came, Aemond sat upon Vhagar’s back and flew to Dragonstone to claim what was rightfully his. What would have always been his. What was fated by the gods and prophesied by those who had the sight.

Aegon had clapped him on the back in a parting farewell, and told him to make you 'squeal like a pig'. 

Charming.

As he flew across the ocean and began to see the small speck of Dragonstone become larger and larger, his heart raced in his chest and blood began to pump itself into his cock. 

You would be his. 

Finally his.

How many nights had he dreamed of this? How many days had he agonised over your absence?

How many words had he exchanged with his mother and brother, forcing them to his will? Forcing them to accept that you would be his.

How many times had they argued that it would not work? That you would try to kill them, or die trying.

And how many times had he said ‘I know.’

He didn’t care. 

You were his the moment you were born.

When Aemond had circled the active volcano, he had expected to find Caraxes, his uncle sat astride the large red dragon, to tear him from the sky, all fire and fury. He had waited for Syrax and Melys, and any or all of the Blacks dragons to rain the Seven Hells upon him.

And yet there was none. The island was still, and there were no dragons to be seen. It was almost eerily quiet.

Aemond had landed on the island, and his first thought was the smell. It was sulphuric to its very core, and the smell of coal and dragon was strong as it was carried through the oceans breeze. 

Waiting for him on the top of Dragonmont were several guards and a knight who had introduced himself as Ser Darke. Aemond had eyed the knight who was tall, and handsome by any standards. He wondered if this was your personal knight. 

And then he wondered if this knight had taken your maidenhead. 

Aemond felt himself sour until the knight with dark hair had handed him cream and red robes.

The ceremonial robes of Old Valyria.

Aemond had dressed himself with no fuss nor shame in the eyes of the Old Gods, and any of the guards who had dared to watch him. And then he was moving, finally making his way down to you. 

His grandfather Otto’s voice carried across the wind, and Aemond watched as he got closer, listening to the elder Hightower prattle on about the greatness of Aegon and his treaty. 

Aegon was too thick to think of a treaty. 

That was his mother and Otto’s idea. 

He watched as your eyes flitted from Otto to him, mouth slackening. And then he felt it. The burning gaze of his uncle, Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince had given him a one over, before looking down to his daughter. 

Asking with his eyes to smite his nephew.

Aemond walked to stand in front of you beside the alter, and his breath had stopped in his lungs. 

You were beautiful.

Stunning.

Regal.

Every part the blood of Old Valyria.

A true Targaryen through and through. 

Your silver hair had shone in the light and your violet eyes had danced dangerously as you observed the man in front of you. Your robes fit you perfectly, and the headdress sat delicately upon your head. He wished to caress you, to promise you the world.

You were enchanting. Ethereal. Not of this world.

And you were his.

Candles were lit, and Aemond could scarcely pay attention to the world around him. He did not care. He was too preoccupied with how your teeth kept pulling at your lips nervously, or how your gaze would concentrate hard on his face. More specifically his eye.

Does it frighten you like the others?

Or do you see through it? Do you see through the horror of it and see the man beneath? The boy beneath?

Aemond's mouth had dried when he had run the sharp edge of dragonglass down your lip, watching as blood rushed to the surface of your mouth. He wished to step forward to lick it off the crimson droplets. He wished to taste its coppery tang upon his tongue. He wished to soothe the wound, and chase away the pain with his lips.

And then you had returned the favour, only your hand was not as gentle as he had been. Your hand did not hold awe, or reverence, or pride in it as you slid the glass down his parted and waiting lips.

Your hand had been rough, and cruel, and had sliced through his lip with far more force than had been needed. It was full of anger, and resentment, fury and rage. A loathing and sense of betrayal. 

His zaldristos.

He relished in the pain, and welcomed the sharp sting, because it was you who was doing it. It was you giving yourself to him. Aemond would suffer any pains, swim any sea, do anything to have you. He would scour the realm in search of you by foot if he had needed to.

You would always be his.

And you would never be without him again. 

He had sliced his own palm and held the blade towards you.

Your turn little one.

Your palm had opened from its stiff grip, and in your palm lay the evidence of your assault upon him that fateful night. His shoulder twinged as he looked at it. You had gotten him good that evening. Deep and sharp. The Maester had been uncertain if they would have been able to seal it. And so Aemond had told them to burn it. To melt the flesh together so that he may heal in the way of a dragon.

He had thought of you when the Maester had burnt his wound shut and sewed the rest together. It had felt like the night Lucerys had taken his eye. Except he had felt proud of you. He had felt proud that you had that fire. That anger and that rage. It had made his cock uncomfortably hard, and despite having lost a lot of blood, when the Maester had finally left his chambers, and his mother had stopped fussing and went back to hers, Aemond had tugged himself to his peak, using the arm on his injured side to relish in the pain you had delivered.

Like an angel of death.

You had hesitated to slice your palm and he had been patient. You could take as long as you wanted, but you would be his forever more. 

When the blood pooled he grasped your hand, desperate to pour every inch of love into his wound that bled, hoping that his essence would flow into you, and that you would feel his devotion and admiration. Hoping that his love would seep into your heart and unfreeze it, and bring you back to him. 

Your hands were bound together in ceremonial thread, and the final words were said. 

“Ry kivia mazvestraksi.” Of darkness and light.

He was the darkness and you were his light. His entire being revolved around you like the sun.

Aemond’s cock twitched in his robes, and his heart soared.

What a triumph. 

He stepped forward, closing the gap between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours. The bitter taste of copper had brushed into his mouth with his first cautious kiss. He was so anxious, but so overjoyed. 

You were finally his. 

Mine.

You were like opium. Your lips were so soft and tender against his own, and he could taste your essence on his tongue. Aemond tried in vain but he could not hold back any longer. His hand came to pull you in closer, grasping at the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. To drink you in like a man starved. Your blood the elixir of life, and he a dying man.

He licked at the blood to clean you, to have all of you, to taste you further and he almost moaned. Your sharp little teeth nipped at him and his hand tightened in your hair. He felt a breath puff out of your lips, and onto his, and imagined that you would do the same when he fucked you. 

If he pulled your hair when he pressed himself up inside of you, would you sigh into his mouth? Would you moan and squirm in his grip as he fucked his seed into you?

When he pulled back, your pupils were dilated and your sweet little lips were smeared with your combined blood. You looked feral. Blood thirsty.

Bursting with rage. 

His sweet little niece. 

It made him harder, and he was thankful that the robes were loose.

“Mēre ñelly, mēre prūmia, mēre soul, sir se forever.” 

One flesh, one heart, one soul. Now and forever.

You were his. 

And he was yours.

Your blood ran through him, and his through you. 

Now and forever.

His wife. 

“Wife.” Aemond tested the word on his tongue and he knew in that moment it was meant to be.

It felt right.

It felt perfect.

It felt that the Gods knew you were destined to be together. Aemond had always known that the Gods made you for each other. He could always feel a magnetic pull to you. Drawing him in like a Siren.

As if you were tied by two threads, and no matter where you would be, no matter where you would go, no matter how hard you would try to pull, or cut, or tear the thread between you, it would not budge.

And you would always return to each other. 

Mine.

As soon as your hand had left his, you had thrown yourself into your fathers arms. Daemon had watched Aemond over the top of your head. His eyes bored into Aemond’s as he expressed all the things he were to do to him if he had even the slightest inkling that he harmed his precious daughter, with only his eyes.

His favourite daughter.

His first child. 

Aemond had blinked slowly at the man and watched as his uncle had cooed into your hair. His heart ached at the sight and he did not know why. 

You had raced back into the castle, leaving Aemond with Otto and Ser Cole, watching as you and the others who resided on Dragonstone, trudged slowly and solely back inside. 

Aemond had watched how Daemon fought desperately to not say a thing to Otto nor him, nor Cole. How his mouth had twitched and his hand had repeatedly tapped on the large hilt of the Dark Sister Blade. 

Aemond admired the mans tenacity. 

The young Prince had redressed himself out of the ceremonial garb and back into his riding leathers. He, Otto and Cole had walked and waited for you at the entrance of the castle to return. Little words being said between the three men. 

When you had returned, you were in-between the hulking figure of your father and the handsome knight. 

So he was your knight.

Aemond made a mental note to inquire into who this knight was, and if he had any loved ones he cared for.

Was he a first son? A second son? A third? Did he had sisters? Or brothers?

Jealousy rolled through Aemond as he thought of the Prince knowing you intimately. Doting on your every command. Bringing you your every desire. 

Did he come to your chambers at night, when all had gone to rest, and warmed your bed? 

Had he pierced your maidenhead and watched your blood streak his length? Had he whispered praise to you and brought you to your peak? Had he tasted you the way Aemond had? Had the made you cum on his hands as the Prince had done?

Aemond wanted to slice the knights head from his shoulders, and his cock from his body. 

Heat rose in his body until Otto had spoken, and broke his tumbling thoughts. You had all but scoffed at his grandsire and looked up at your father with large, sad eyes. You had embraced, and Aemond once again felt a sting in his heart. 

And also jealousy. 

He wondered for a split moment if you had ever been intimate with your father, but the thought came and went just as quickly as it had arrived. 

No.

Neither of you would have. 

You had stormed away and Aemond had watched your hips sway as you marched up the grassy hill beside the castle, Otto calling out to you in confusion, and the loud laugh of Daemon flowed into the air. Aemond had to stop himself from smiling. Otto huffed under his breath, wondering where you were going.

Aemond knew exactly where you were going.

For it was the way that he came.

He followed you up the hill, not too far behind, but not quite racing either. He had all the time in the world. For the rest of your shared lives, you would be his. The grass crushed beneath his feet, and as he rounded a rocky corner he came face to face with a vision, sitting atop the famed Vermithor.

Your hair shimmered in the light and your leather riding clothes were snug on your figure. Aemond groaned under his breath as his cock twitched in his leather pants. A smirk wound its way on his face as he watched you spot him. 

Vermithor was large, and mean and old. Just like his Vhagar was. HIs scales were bronze and his teeth were mangled and what a sight you were to be atop the old dragon. You had claimed the famed Vermithor, the Kings dragon. A dragon that had made men kneel.

You did not need a dragon to make Aemond bend the knee.

You could have uttered Dracarys, right then and there. Daemon and your knight could have easily subdued and slain Otto and Ser Cole, and you would have had the upper hand in the war. 

But you didn’t. 

You kept true to the treaty.

His little spitfire, zaldristos, darling niece, barely spared him a single glance as she commanded her great dragon into the sky, his bronze scales shimmering in sun. 

Aemond had cooed out to Vhagar, moving around the cliffs face to find her patiently waiting for him, having sensed him through the bond as he pulled himself up the ropes and onto her back. The war dragon pushed herself into flight roughly, and called out into the air. 

He had flown beside you, watching how well you had bonded to your new dragon, and so quickly. When a Targaryen would lose their dragon, that would be it. They would never bond with another. 

But not you.

Oh no, not you.

Not his wife.

And that’s what made you his.

The journey to Kings Landing was far too long for his liking as his swollen member pressed painfully into his pants. He had tried to adjust himself to relieve the throbbing, but to no avail. 

Aemond had thought the whole journey home about laying you down in his bed, parting your thighs and lapping at your waiting cunt. He had imagined licking, and suckling and fucking you on his fingers until completion. Stretching you open for his cock so that you would be ready. 

He had imagined thrusting into you, holding you to him as you moaned and writhed beneath him, praising him, crying for him, wailing as the tip of his cock pushed up against your womb. He had imagined you panting, and wanting, and begging for his seed. 

‘Please uncle, please give me it. Give me your seed.’

‘Put a babe in me, husband.’

‘Please fill me, Aem.’

‘I love you.’

I love you.

Those words were all that the Prince desired to hear.

But he knew that he wouldn’t. 

You would most likely kick, and scratch, and bite at him. Hiss and curse, and spew vile insults. This image of you, all fiery beneath him, crying and sobbing, clawing and cursing, also made his cock throb. 

Either way, he would have you. 

You had arrived and disappeared before he had caught up. But there was only few places he knew he would find you. And so when his gut told him to go to the Godswood, he had followed it, and he was right. 

There you stood, palm on the bark, head bowed, no doubt begging the Gods for mercy. For a miracle. Asking for them to slay him and his brother and any other who carried the Hightower blood, just as he had with the Strongs. He knew that you would be asking for protection from the monster you had married. 

But he did not have to be cruel.

He could be good to you, if only you let him.

“The God’s won’t hear your prayers.” He had spoken, not being able to help himself. Not being able to try and get the fire within you to burst, to have you race at him again, blade in hand. 

He watched in excitement as your little hand balled itself up in anger against the tree, a smear of blood being left behind. Aemond grinned. 

Yes.

Yes, show me how much you hate me.

Show me your passion for me.

“Come. I will show you to our chambers.” 

Our chambers.

Our.

He liked how it sounded on his tongue. He liked the way our sounded. 

Us.

Our

We.

One flame, one flesh, one heart, one soul. Together. 

Forever.

As you had always been destined to be.

You had turned, lips pulled down into a frown as he smiled brightly at you, joy coursing through him.

Our.

Us.

Your lips were scabbed where the cut was, with no blood lingering around your face, except for the symbol upon your forehead which he had pressed with a sacred thumb. You had left it undisturbed, just as he had. 

See? We are already one.

We are the same.

“I wish to return to my old chambers.” You had demanded, but so softly, almost as if you were testing the waters. 

Aemond could not help but tilt his head. 

Gods, such a good wife already.

So obedient and good.

All mine.

“No.” Was all he had said, enjoying the anger that flashed across her face as he turned and began walking to his chambers.

No, not his.

Your shared chambers.

Ours.

The entire walk he thought of the possibility of taking you as soon as the chamber doors opened. Of bending you over the table in the centre of the room and rutting into your tight, wet heat. Of laying you down on the bed and ripping your riding leathers from your body, and thrusting himself deeply inside. To fuck into your wet cunt and have your screams and the slapping of skin carry through the entire Keep for all to hear. 

Yes, she is mine.

She has always been mine.

She will always be mine.

He had watched you enter the chambers, eyes flitting around the space and knew immediately that your eyes would look to the passage door. That immediately you would be looking for a way out. Or reminiscing on your previous visit.

And you had. 

Creatures of habit rarely change their design.

The passage was neither blocked, nor barricaded, and if you wished to attempt an escape, you were free to do so. Though he knew that you wouldn’t. 

“You wouldn’t be able to leave that way, if that’s what you are thinking of.” His voice called across the room.

A lie.

Which you seemed to believe. 

Such a good little girl.

He had offered you wine. Spiced Dornish wine, of the deepest red.

Your favourite.

He had remembered.

He remembered everything.

Everything you liked, and disliked. Everything you had said. Everything you had done. Everything that you had worn. Everything. He remembered it all.

You were in his head, every moment of every day. Every single waking hour he thought of you. Even as he lay in the bed of another, even as his cock filled Alys, even as she moaned and writhed beneath him, he thought of you. 

And then your sweet little eyes had caught the faded red cover of your favourite book, sitting proudly on a pile of books he had compiled for your arrival. Books in which you had read to him. Books in which he knew you would like. Books in which he had remembered you liked.

It was all for you.

Everything was for you.

Do you not see? This is all for you.

“Sit.” He had commanded, to see if you would obey, to test the waters to see how much you would put your all into this treaty. For yourself. For your mother. For your family. 

And you had sat, and his heart had soared. 

You were making an effort. 

You were trying to make this work.

You could see that he loved you, and maybe you were coming to terms that you loved him too.

“Drink.” Aemond commanded again, and you followed his orders.

His cock jumped in his breeches and he had to subtly move himself as he sat. 

Would you open your mouth if he told you to? Would you cum if he commanded it? Would you take his member into your mouth and suck if he asked?

Would you be a good little wife for him? 

His fiery little zaldristos, tamed and claimed by the mighty dragon that he was.

He lost himself in the images of you coming to your knees before him at the fireplace, with a wordless command. A simple finger gesture, a subtle point of his index to his feet, and the good little wife you were would be anxious and excited to please him. You would come to stand before him and kneel. Your tiny little hands, hands that had caused so much damage, hands that had scarred him, hands that had-

“The King wishes for us to dine with him this evening. To celebrate our union.”

He watched as your chest paused, and your face paled. Your lips had parted and your little hands had curled tightly around the goblet. 

Ah.

“He will not touch you.” 

A promise. 

I will kill him if he ever has you.

When you had not said a word, and he had stood before you, your eyes glazed over as your mind no doubt reeled at the thought of being reunited with your eldest uncle. Aemond did not take offence when you had jumped at his palm. 

“I will have the maids come and dress you for the evening.” 

And they had. In the dress he had your favourite tailor in Dorne make for you. 

One black dragon, one green dragon. 

Together as one. 

One.

Us. 

Aemond had watched you be bathed and dressed and could not help but notice at how you were, despite being present physically in the room, not present mentally. You had drifted away behind your eyes and numbly let the women wash, dry and dress you. Even as he had touched the small of your back and led you out of the chambers, and cooed small compliments to you, you had not come back to the present. 

Aemond had even tried mentioning Lucerys, to see if that could rise you from whatever depths you were lost in, and yet you did not come back to him.

He felt a pit of anxiety settle in his stomach.

He thought of Helaena, and how he had gradually watched her do the same. With each passing day, he watched his beloved sister, the sweetest and kindest of all, fade into a nothingness until not even she herself could stand it any longer, and threw herself from her window in Maegor’s Holdfast.

“Zaldristos.” He had uttered, small panic in his voice. 

Please do not go with her. 

I cannot loose you too.

Please Gods, do not let her go to madness. I will do whatever you ask me to.

Do not take her from me.

You had swallowed thickly after he spoke his prayer, and your eyes had met him. The spell had been broken, and the Gods had listened. You were back, and the first thing your eyes did was open widely, almost in shock of your hazy mind, looking down at the dress that fit you more perfectly than he could have ever imagined. 

Aemond reminded himself to tip the tailor. 

You had walked together, as one, to the intimate Dining Chambers, and were announced to the room as you entered. ‘His Lady Wife Y/n Velaryon.’

‘His Lady Wife.’

His.

Aegon sat with his small council around him, their mother and grandfather waiting at the table. Aegon had this mischievous glint in his eye which made Aemond inwardly cringe. He had remembered the look that Aegon would get when he wished to start trouble, and this evening would be no different. 

“There they are!” The King had stood, arms wide and Aemond inwardly groaned. 

His brother was a prick.

The crown on his head must weigh heavy on his skull, for his brain was surely being crushed by the force.

Aemond watched as Aegon tried to goad you into a fight, and he felt himself bristle instead.

She is mine.

Mine to love. Mine to touch. Mine to hold. Mine to torment, and fuck, and put heirs into.

Mine.

He had pulled a seat out for you, and you had sat, and he was proud of how well you were behaving on your first night back in the Red Keep. He had expected you to launch yourself across the table, all claws and teeth and rip his brothers, or his mothers, throat out. 

Would it be a sin if he said he was disappointed that you didn’t?

Aemond could sense his good Lady Wife stiffening beside him and heat pouring from her body as Aegon continued to try and lure her into a fight. To try and get her to react to him. The air was tense from the other Lords at the table as they all watched in anticipation of a very tumultuous celebration of a very tumultuous union.

“I don’t think I’ve heard my niece be so quiet before. Have you broken her already, Aemond?” 

Not in the way I would have liked to.

Not in the way you had tried to.

Aemond hummed. 

“Don't tell me she has snatched your voice too, brother? One minute in her cunt and already you’ve gone soft.” Aegon snickered.

Fucking cunt.

Aemond watched as Otto tried, and failed, to diffuse the tension as he saw the warning signs of Aemond’s temper begin to simmer. It was fine for the Princess to be riled, she could not act if she wished to annul the treaty, but Aemond? 

Aemond could do as he pleased. 

And if he pleased to launch himself across the table and strike his drunken brother, he would. 

Aegon laughed loudly and Aemond felt you stiffen beside him. 

All instincts kicked in, and Aemond felt suddenly protective of you. 

I won’t let him touch you. 

You are mine now.

I won’t let anyone harm you again.

You are mine.

Conversation moved about the table, and Aemond felt he could relax, but only just. Aegon continued to drown himself in his cups, and he watched as you did not move to eat your supper, instead drinking from your goblet. 

“Tell me brother, have you bed her yet?”

Aemond felt blinding rage course through him. 

You fucking cunt. You fucking piece-

“Do you remember how it is done? I’d be happy to show you.” 

Even the Lannister laughed, and Aemond had to control his breathing as to not take the blade at Ser Coles side and thrust it through the two of them.

You keep laughing, Lannister, and I will fuck a silver haired babe into your wife as a gift.

You keep laughing and I will make you watch me do it.

Willingly or not. 

Alicent tried, and failed, as she always had, not that she ever fully tried, to chastise Aegon, to rein him in. But he was King now, and he had the Kingly arrogance to match. 

“We should hold a bedding ceremony, to ensure that the deed is done properly. I can talk you through it.”

You fucking bastard.

He thinks I don't know how to fuck a woman? He thinks I don't know how to bed my own wife?

My niece?

If only he knew the things he was capable of. Of what he does to Alys. Of how she begs for it, and cries for it, and pleads on her knees, mouth open and eyes wide.

Or demands it, legs spread, cunt weeping and waiting for him.

“Come now brother, surely you have not forgotten what I showed you on your thirteenth name day.” Aegon laughed, pulling his goblet up to his lips. 

Aemond’s heart ached and his stomach dropped. 

He did not want to remember that.

He wished to forget.

He wished to forget their hands on him. Their mouth on him. How Aegon had laughed as he watched. How Aemond had not wanted to. How he had cried after and felt shame and anguish. How he had felt confliction and disgust. 

He had wanted it to be you. 

He had wanted to lay with you as his first. 

But you weren’t his first. Nor his second, nor would you be his third.

Aegon saw to that.

Aegon had taken something from him in which he could never get back. 

Aemond’s jaw clenched tightly as he watched his brother, the feeling of the older woman’s crawling hands on his body. 

“The King is merely joking with you, My Prince. We are all in good spirits for this union.” Otto spoke. 

Fuck you too.

“You heard the old bat, we are all in good spirits! You are finally wed to the one woman who had given you any attention at all. Sure, she is a bastard-“

“Watch your tongue.” You had sneered, finally breaking your silence. 

Aemond pulled from his sickening thoughts and felt your anger beside him run through him. Your blood in him. He had never been so angry. He had never felt so vengeful. So provoked. Not even in Storms End did he feel such wrath. 

He wished to kill his brother. 

“So she speaks!” Aegon declared proudly to the table, looking at the Lords as they all smiled unsurely, “Finally. There is my niece who I know and love. Though I fear if you are able to speak, perhaps my brother did not fuc-“

Aemond shot up from the table, ready and willing to do it. 

It could be so easy. 

It could be so easy to kill him. Right here, right now. Before all the Lords and his mother. He could snuff the life out of the man he called his brother, his King, and he could do it without a second thought. He would gladly watch the light fade from those violet eyes. He could watch the wa-

“Aem, brother.” Aegon mock cooed, “You know I am only teasing. Come, let's raise our cups to this fine union!” 

He was mocking him. 

Mocking him.

He was saying he was not a man. Questioning his manhood again. Questioning his ability to be a man.

All lifted their cup and Aemond turned to look at you, you were already watching him. Your mouth was parted and pupils dilated and a flush lay on your cheeks. You were so angry. You were angry with him. But your eyes looked frightened. 

Aemond watched as your hand came to soothe him, to touch him. He didn't want to be touched. He kept thinking of his thirteenth name-day and his skin crawled. And seeing you look up at him like that. In pity.

It disgusted him.

He didn’t want your pity. 

“To my brother, may she warm your heart and your cock, and may you make me a grand-uncle soon enough. And to my wonderful niece, may you warm his bed, and birth his heirs, and feel the warmth of his love.”

Aemond bitterly drained his cup, and watched as his wife did the same. If he sat for a moment longer at this table, and had to look at his brothers shit eating grin a moment more, he would ride atop Vhagar and set the entire Keep ablaze. 

“Excuse us, I wish to spend time with my wife.” 

Aemond left the room, not even waiting for you, as he knew you would follow him. You would not sit alone in the chambers with Aegon or his mother. He knew you would not do it, and so the dutiful zaldristos followed him, just as he planned.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

DON'T TOUCH WHAT IS MINE. ( HOTD x Reader )

author note: I wanted to do HOTD x Greek Myths cause it's fun. If I get enough like or requests I'l do a HOTD x Greek Myths book on wattpad. pairing: Jealous! Aemond Targaryen x Noble Wife! Reader prompt: Aemond contemplates murder. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were supposed to marry Aegon, a way to secure allies in the North for when Aegon took the Iron Throne. But, when his Mother planned on marrying him to Helaena. Aemond swiftly made his move, knowing that the loss of an ally would upset his Mother. It was supposed to be only for duty. You were supposed to be his duty to his Mother and family. But, of course the Gods were cruel and he fell for you. Hard and fast. He practically fell flat on his face for you, like someone had punched him in the groin with a club named ‘love’. 

You were just so perfect. You were a proper Lady in the Court, weaving your way through politics with a cunning grace. You smiled and happily listened to Helaena as she rambled on about whatever popped in her mind, never judging her. You played with Helaena and Aegon’s children, always so patient with the toddler’s. You were cordial, yet stern, with Aegon⎯keeping him in line for the sake of his family when you could. You understood the want for revenge after the loss of his eye. You were just so perfect and kind. He hated how much he fell in love with you.

Watching you chat with some Lord from the Reach, Aemond grits his teeth, shifting around in place. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about you speaking to that Lord, but he would not tell you nor drag you away. He knew that you had some ambition or plan behind speaking to the Lord, one he did not know yet but knew that you would tell him soon enough. You were smart like that. 

Looking you over for any sign for him to interfere, he inspects your appearance with a subtle look of love. Your gown was more simple in feature, but a similar green to his Mother’s. Your hair is decorated with pearl and gold dragon hair clips. Your fingers decorated in rings, the sapphire one shining a particular bright. A smug smirk spreads on his lips at the sight of the ring.

“Yes, my lord husband, Prince Aemond is everything that I could ask for.” You nod, “I am content, actually I am more than content Lord Wormwood.”

“I am happy to hear that, your grace. But, I am just suggesting that…should you ever find yourself in need of some company whilst visiting the Reach⎯” Lord Wormwood suggests, making his blood boiling. 

“No, now I must return to my husband’s side.” You cut him off, eyes shifting away.

“Just a moment longer⎯” Lord Wormwood tries again, attempting to keep the conversation going.

Watching you straighten up your back and fiddle with your wedding ring, he instantly catches the subtle signal from you. You needed him. Holding his head up a little higher,  Aemond saunters over to you, attempting to hide his slightly faster walking pace than usual. Reaching your side in an instant, he gently places his hand on your hip, tucking you into his side.

“Aemond.” You whispers, a subtle glimmer of appreciation in your eyes. 

“I do believe that my wife and I have other more important matters than you, Lord Wormwood.” Aemond cuts in, his voice cutthroat. 

“I, uh, I well..” Lord Wormwood stutters out, shocked by the sight of Aemond lurking over you like some kind of protective dragon.

“Goodbye, Lord Wormwood.” You nod, dragging him away.

Feeling the tension within the room grow with each second, you softly intertwined your hands with Aemond, to prevent him from reaching for his blade. Tightening your grip on him, you start to drag Aemond away, knowing that he’d make some comment or at worst do something to Lord Wormwood. The last thing you needed and wanted was for a fight to erupt because some stupid old man couldn’t take a hint that you were married. 

“Come, come, Aemond. I am sure Helaena will be happy for us to join her.” You lie, tugging at him a little harder.

“Yes, let us go, my wife.” He nods, his voice sharp.

“Come, Aemond.” You grit your teeth, “Let us go, now.”

“Yes.” Aemond glares down the squirming Lord, like he hoped that he would burst into flames.

Cringing at the tension in the air, you tug him a little harder, struggling as he was practically glued to his spot. Sighing as he refuses to move, you press a kiss onto his cheek, using it as a way to soften him just enough to drag him away. Smirking as he instantly melts like a dragon burning a piece of wood, you drag him forcefully, weaving your way through the sea of Courtiers. 

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, a faint hum of pink on his cheeks.

“I did.” 

“You kissed me, in public.” He repeats, “You have never done that before.”

“Yes, well, I cannot exactly carry you over my shoulder to stop you from killing that man. So a kiss is what it was.” You counters back, a hint of wit in your voice.

Looking over his face in an attempt to see his reaction, he doesn’t really display any emotions, just this flatness which was typical of him. You liked to think he was born with a stone face and that Alicent had mistaken him for a statue instead of a babe. Cocking a brow up at the lack of anything from him, you softly squeeze his hand, attempting to get his attention or something from him. 

“I do not like him.” He grumbles, the disdain clear in his voice.

“Oh, really? I had no clue that you disliked him.” You jest, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“Do not jest. Tis’ not a jesting manner.” He sulks, “He propositioned you to visit his bedchambers.”

“I know, tis’ why I had you infer. I do not intend to share a bed with any other man than you. So do not even think of entertaining any doubt’s, Aemond.” You argue, quickly dismissing any doubt he may have.

He goes quiet for the longest time. It almost looked like he was actually accepting your words without any possible argument or disagreement. Relaxing for a moment, you watch as he licks his bottom lip, his eye narrowing for a moment.

“Let me kill him.” He mumbles, almost like he was begging you to allow it.

“Not in public.” You argue, not taking him seriously.

“That can be arranged.” He smiles, a rare smile tugging at his lips. 

Shaking your head with a gentle scoff, you look over his face for a moment, seeing that he was being serious. The look on your face shifting into one of annoyance. Whilst other men would have lashed out and caused a scene, Aemond was cunning and waited. Like a snake hiding in the tall grass. Smacking his arm softly, he lets out a soft snort, a cheeky little grin spreading on his face. 

“No.”

“Fine.” He mumbles, rushing away from you. “I will not be the one to do it.”

“Aemond Targaryen, don’t you dare.” You scold, chasing after him.

---

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