#modern!aemond oneshot

[moonlightrafe]

Bad Idea, Right?

summary: A night of drinking with your friends lands you at your ex boyfriend’s apartment — which is ultimately a bad idea.

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Ex girlfriend!Reader

word count: 3k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, angst, brief mention of drug use, language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, creampie, Aemond is a fuckboy. 18+ MDNI

note: idk how I feel about this but Modern!Aemond is my weakness, and the grwm of Ewan ruined my life. Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send me requests!

If someone were to ask you your own personal example of girlhood your answer would be simple: getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends. While going out and partying with your friends was fun, you considered the act of getting ready together art in itself.

It was tradition, a ritual. Filled with laughter, inside jokes, excitement, and anticipation.

Glitter, hairspray, memories. It was your time to bond and let go of everyday stress.

And that’s where you found yourself right now: sat in front of your best friend’s vanity, large curlers in your hair. The sweet smell of vanilla coming from Rhaena’s birthday cake scented candle filling the room.

Six months had passed since your breakup with Aemond and the twins had declared that you had spent more than enough time moping. It was time to get you back out in the world.

“I’m so happy that us girls are going out tonight,” Baela said as she finished up applying her mascara.

You involuntarily scoffed at her comment.

“What?” She questioned, glaring at you.

“It’s not like it’s just us,” you say matter of factly.

“Oh, come on! You know Jace is basically one of us!”

She wasn’t wrong. If you had to pick a guy to be in your friend group, it would be Jace Velaryon. He was easy to talk to, kind, considerate. A breath of fresh air from what you were used to. You understood why Baela was into him. Plus, he donned a beautiful set of chocolate colored curls matched with an adorable, toothy, grin.

“Do not beat around the bush, Bae!” You admonished, “I know Cregan will be there too.”

Cregan Stark was Jace’s best friend. A rugged guy from the North. He had a thick beard and piercing gray-blue eyes. He had quiet confidence, basically a big teddy bear. There was no denying he was rather handsome. It’s not that you would be opposed to sleeping with him, per say, you just weren’t sure if you were ready yet; although Baela begged to differ.

Once the three of you were all ready to go and the Uber was on it’s way, Baela pulled you to the side.

“Look,” she began, holding each of your hands in hers, “I know you're nervous. You’ve been through a lot and it can be hard to put yourself back out there — but you deserve this. Aemond’s out living his life, you have to live yours! It’s going to be fine! You look incredible, we are going to have a great time.”

Baela, as usual, was right. You were enjoying yourself. You were now on your third drink, tapping your finger nails on the glass as you half heartedly listened to Cregan tell an embarrassing story about Jace from when the two of them were in high school when you felt your phone vibrate.

A text from an unknown number flashed against your screen, paying no mind to it you opened it immediately. Your stomach dropped.

Hey… it’s Aemond.

You swore that men had some kind of radar that would let them know when a woman was finally happy without them. When that radar went off, only then was it that they decided to try to contact you again. Not during the months where your heart was left in ruin, not when you would do anything for answers. Only once you were healing, on the brink of reaching that light at the end of the tunnel; they weaseled their way into your life once more to ruin everything — and Aemond was right on schedule.

It had been months since he last contacted you, you felt as though your stomach was gonna fall out, your nervous system in a frenzy.

You could not let him ruin your fun.

“Let’s take a shot of something,” you suggested.

And then your phone buzzed again.

I know it’s been awhile, but I wanted to see how you’re doing?

Been awhile? That’s the understatement of the year. He didn’t care how you were doing when he broke up with you over a text. He didn’t care when the rumor of him sleeping with a professor spread around campus, humiliating you.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Relief washed over you once you saw Baela return with 5 shots of Tequila in hand.

“Heard this makes your clothes come off,” she said as she handed you the shot glass, shooting a wink over to Cregan. You downed the shot quickly, ignoring her comment. The liquid burned down your throat as it settled into your stomach.

Slamming the shot glass onto the table, your head spun and you could’ve sworn you felt your phone vibrate again. You needed air.

“I’ll be right back, I need a cigarette.”

“I’ll come with you!” Rhaena chirped.

“No!” You shouted, almost too enthusiastically.

“No, that’s okay. I know you hate the smell of smoke, Rhae. I’ll just be a minute.”

With that, you frantically made your way to the patio of the bar. Just as you lit your cigarette a familiar voice called out to you.

“Ohhh shit! I knew that was you!”

Now you were sure that the universe was certainly conspiring against you. It was none other than Aegon Targaryen. Aemond’s drunken, perverted, older brother. Wonderful.

Turning on your heel abruptly and puffing smoke out of your nostrils you gave him a reluctant wave.

“Hi, Aeg.”

“How are you?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “how have you been?”

Not sure if it was the liquid courage or the need for someone else to witness the audacity of your ex, but you just shoved your phone into his chest, eyes glued to him as he scrolled through the messages with his eyebrows raised.

“Damn, I never would have thought Aemond to be the type to beg!” he laughed as you shot him a look of disapproval.

“Listen,” he said before taking a long drag of his own cigarette, “Aemond means well. He was pretty shaken up after you guys broke up.”

Yeah, right. What was there for him to be shaken up about? He broke up with you.

“And if you ask me,” he continued through puffs of his cigarette, “you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Isn’t he seeing someone like, twice our age?”

“Not anymore.”

A pregnant pause filled the air between the two of you as he handed you your phone back.

The conversation was becoming awkward, so Aegon tried to comfort you the only way he knew how.

“I know you’re stressed and all… do you, uhhh, want a bump?”

His question took you by surprise.

“A bump? Um, I’m good, Aeg.. thanks.”

The blonde lifted his hands up in defeat.

“Good call, if you do go see Aemond, I doubt he would be happy about that.”

“I’m not going to see Aemond,” you answer flatly, hitting his arm lightly.

“Well, whatever or whoever you decide to do tonight I wish you luck!” he smirked, “but, I know our mom would be thrilled if you started to come around again.”

“She misses me?” you blurted out, the desperation clear in your voice.

“Yeah,” Aegon shrugged, “we all do.” He smiled as his large palm patted against your back before he made his way back inside the bar.

You stood in silence as you finished your cigarette, unsure of what to do when you received yet another text from Aemond. You responded with the first thing that came to your mind.

Have you been drinking?

No. Come over. I want to see you.

Your phone buzzed again, but this time it was a picture. A photo of his cat Vhagar. The elderly feline was sprawled out across his leather couch, the caption reading: “she misses you too.”

She did not. She only ever liked Aemond.

Well, I’ve been drinking so… can’t drive.

Where are you? I’ll come get you.

No. He couldn’t. You couldn’t risk Baela seeing, she would kill you.

Nah. That’s okay.

God, this conversation was going nowhere. Why were you entertaining him anyway?

Let me get you an Uber.

Buzz.

Please.

Gods, he was pushy.

Fine 🫠

Once you found yourself back inside the bar, you decided to use that last shot of tequila as your reason to leave. You had said something along the lines of the mixture of liquors wasn’t agreeing with you and that you were gonna head out. The girls were disappointed, but they understood. Baela’s only condition is that you were sure to text her once you were home safe. You bid Jace and Cregan goodbye, and even agreed to go out for drinks with them again in the upcoming week.

As you sat in the backseat of the Uber, your palms filled with sweat and your heart raced as you made your way to the other side of the city to Aemond’s new apartment. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering how he might react and if this was the right decision. Your mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but you tried to stay composed as you you pulled up to the building.

Aemond was waiting outside the apartment complex for you. His expression was unreadable as he puffed on the last few drags of a cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground and stomping it out so he could make his way over to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, offering a shy smile before extending his arms out to hug you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

His scent alone was intoxicating. A mixture of nicotine, spearmint toothpaste and musky cologne. Being in his embrace again had your head spinning, you felt as if your heart was going to beat out of your chest. It was almost as if the two of you never parted ways, like he never left. Damn him, you thought to yourself .

“Well, this is my new place,” he said as he opened the door to the lavish apartment. It was absolutely was stunning. Beautiful, mahogany cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The living room was spacious with high ceilings and a giant window that had an incredible view of the city. It was very Aemond-esque. It felt familiar, safe.

You spotted Vhagar on the dark green velvet couch in the center of the room.

You watched carefully as one of her eyes opened, she rose from her spot almost instantly once she spotted you. Making a beeline to Aemond’s bedroom.

“I thought you said she missed me?” you asked playfully.

"I may have lied," Aemond replied, giving you a shy smile.

An hour had gone by and you had spent the majority of it arguing with Aemond about your past. You listened to him attempt to apologize, explaining that it wasn’t you, it was him. He made a mistake, he’s changed. You weren’t having it, and yet, in the midst of it all, you had found yourself sitting so close to him you were almost on top of him. Mid sentence he had crashed his lips against yours. A rude interruption, for sure — but now, all bets were off.

The kiss was rough and intoxicating, a clash of teeth and tongue. He grazed your bottom lip with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. Your head spun.

"More," you whispered against his lips, "I need more of you."

Aemond took no time to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom, as he placed you down on his bed gently. You feel his hands tearing off your clothes, striping you down to your underwear. Your heart raced with anticipation and desire. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. He lowered himself on top of you, reaching his arm up over his shoulder to remove his own shirt.

As he leant back down over you, his tongue trailed from your chin to your lips. A soft moan escaped your throat as he sucked on your lips, taking control of the kiss.

Arousal stirred inside you as he nipped down at your neck, licking and sucking until you arched your back under him, desperate for his touch.

“Missed me baby?” he teased, “because I sure missed you”, his violet eye scanned over your body, blown with lust as he made his way down. His slim fingers ghosted along your stomach, then gripped harshly onto the meaty flesh of your thigh. Your legs parted, letting him know what you wanted. He didn't hesitate, pulling your underwear off with one swoop. Leaving you completely bare in front of him.

“I missed this pretty little pussy too, fuck,” he groaned before biting at your thighs just before lowering his head between them, licking a stripe up your slit. You bucked under him, pushing him harder against you, driving his face deeper into your center.

A low groan left your throat, his name falling from your lips as you tugged at his silver hair and held his face against you. His tongue circled around your clit, the small bud swollen from his attentions. His fingers found their way inside you, exploring your cunt.

His thumb replaced his tongue on your clit as he rubbed harsh figure eights against you. He continued to rub your clit harder. Your breathing quickened, and your body legs began to shake.

"Oh, there’s my girl. You gonna cum for me?"

The combination of his words and a few more thrusts of his fingers made your mind go completely blank. Your ears rang, your vision blurred so much you had to squeeze your eyes shut, eventually seeing stars. Aemond finger fucked you through your orgasm as you soaked his hand.

You laid there for a moment, total blackness surrounding you until your Aemond’s calm voice brought you back to reality.

“Holy shit. You good baby?”

You nodded your head eagerly at him, “More than okay.”

After giving you some more time to come down from your first orgasm, Aemond crawled on top of you, as he began to slowly drag his cock between your already swollen folds, swirling the tip in your wetness; almost pushing in, but not quite.

“Aem,” you moaned, “please, I need to feel you. All of you .”

“Still so needy, hm?” He teased as he buried his cock inside you to the hilt. You winced at the length of him.

“Littleeee bit of a stretch baby,” he said as he let you adjust to his size, “there we go.”

"Oh.. Gods," you moaned. You forgot just how big Aemond was. The stretch was almost unbearable and yet, you craved more. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you.

He began to rock back and forth into you, pumping his cock in and out. The louder you moaned, the harder he pounded into you. Eventually, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix.

"Please, please don't stop," you begged. He began to pound into you harder and faster, the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room. You felt your second orgasm of the night building inside of you as he continued to fuck you.

"Oh, Gods! Aemond, please, you’re going to make me cum again,” you babbled as your orgasm ripped through you once more. Your cunt clenched around his length as the tip of his cock bullied the spongy spot inside you without mercy.

Your slick coated walls contracting around him was all it took for him to lose control. He let out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside you, filling you with his seed as he bit down hard on your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the aftermath of his own orgasm coursed through him, his cock still twitching inside of you. After placing a wet kiss on your cheek he positioned himself upright, placing a hand flat on the headboard behind you to help keep balance, he slowly pulled his cock out of you. You winced at the emptiness, a pool of warmth leaking out of your cunt and onto the bed sheets.

“Oh, shit. Here, let me help clean you up.”

As you came down from your high, you also came to your senses. No. Him cleaning you up would be too intimate of an act — as if he wasn’t just buried inside of you.

“No, Aem. It’s fine, I need to go to the bathroom anyway.”

He shrugged, “there are washcloths under the sink if you need one.”

Your heart sank as the bathroom door shut. A red lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you was slung over the door handle. Memories of your past relationship came flooding back, along with feelings of sadness and regret. You couldn’t help but wonder who the bra belongs to, your first thought was that older professor. It's a painful reminder that not only had Aemond had not changed at all, he also just took advantage of you.

This was definitely a bad idea.

[targaryen-dynasty]

EVENING DELIGHTS.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, kitchen sex, choking, teasing, slight praise kink, slight breeding kink, modern au

WORDS: 1.7 K

NOTES: based on this request. Thank you so much, @chattylurker!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The melody you hum is barely audible to anyone but you as you cut through the red bell pepper, preparing thin slices. It’s a bit of a daunting task with how much wine you’ve drunk prior, and you’d love to swap places with Aemond instead. He’s lounging on the sofa, a sleepy Vhagar nestled up against him with her head in his lap, watching a show about cars being tuned and raced against each other. 

It appears he’s just as tipsy as you are, a slight stagger in his steps as he rises from his seat coaxed by your soft melody, and makes his way over to you. A lazy smile is draped over his chiseled lips, staring you down like a hunter does its prey. 

You act unfazed at that because he could have come to help you sooner, but you still bite your bottom lip as he leans the weight of his body against your back. His scent immediately fills your nostrils, just as intoxicating as the warmth emanating from him. 

“What’s cooking?” he drawls, bringing his hands to your waist. 

You chuckle at his approach, and cut another piece of the bell pepper. “Just making some oven roasted vegetables.”

Aemond hums, and proceeds to rub his hands over your sides. His nose drags against the side of your face, inhaling your scent and making it impossible for you to focus on the task at hand. 

Bringing a slice of bell pepper up to his lips for him to eat, you hope to distract him just a bit so you can finish the slicing. “Did you know your brother proposed to Floris today?” you ask, chuckling as you hear the content chewing right next to your ear. “Hel called today while you were at work and told me.” 

Swallowing, he quickly grabs another piece before you can swat his hand away, and stuffs it into his mouth. “He did?” he mumbles around the vegetables he’s been chewing, licking his lips and grinning. One of his hands leaves your waist and trails down to wrap around your thigh. 

“My big brother finally got down on one knee, huh?” he says amusedly, squeezing your thigh. “And what did she say?”

You slightly push your hips back against him, and shoot him a warning glance as his hand travels lower. “Of course she said yes,” you reply. “I called her immediately. And apparently, they plan to get married in Highgarden.”

The glare makes him chuckle, and his hand moves back up to wrap around your waist instead, using both to pull your lower body against him, your hips pressed together now. “Highgarden? That’s cute.”

Both his arms band around your body now, and you fully abandon the cutting board the moment one hand comes up to cup your breast. Your breathing turns heavier at his actions, although you try to act unfazed again to continue cutting the rest of the vegetables. There’s a bit of a silence between you, and, while Aemond gently squeezes your breast, he seems to be deep in thought. 

“So… Do you actually like me?” he asks, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot right behind your ear. 

His question makes you roll your eyes, and prompts you to look at him from over your shoulder. “We have been together for seven years, Aemond. We’re getting married next year. What the hell do you think?”

The grip on your waist and breast tightens but is far from being uncomfortable, just enough to keep you standing where you are, tightly pressed against him. As he feels your hips push back against him again, he smirks and presses a kiss to the crook of your neck. 

His voice is much more breathy and husky when he speaks again, “good point.” A quick, sloppy kiss finds the spot beneath your ear, allowing him to nibble on your earlobe in the following. 

You giggle softly at that, and try to stop your body from reacting to his proximity. You feel his hot breath against your neck and his warm body completely enveloping yours. It makes your stomach churn, in a good way. You’re still tipsy, feeling yourself relax into him more and more. “You’re distracting me, Aem.”

He lets his hand slide down your body, one finding your ass to grope it and the other coming to rest just shy above your mound of venus. Kissing your neck again, his breath comes out even warmer than before. “You are so distracted by a little kiss?”

Snorting, you’re not able to deny it, especially because you’re so distracted by his touches. You want to shove him away to finish the cooking, but also want to hug him to keep him even closer. With your breathing growing labored, your body reacts to yours being pressed against each other like that. 

Warmth spreads in the pit of your belly, and you can’t help but moan as his fingers trail a little bit lower. “Shut up…” you try to keep your composure, wanting your voice to remain tough, but to no avail. There’s a tremble audible in it. 

Aemond clearly knows how much he turns you on, and can’t resist the urge to tease you. He chuckles, and proceeds to cup your clothed pussy. A little smirk spreads across his lips, his grip not wavering once. “Make me,” he whispers. 

The heat inside of you builds up faster the longer you stay in that position. You thought you could hold it back, but at this point it’s just impossible. You’re tipsy, the alcohol just makes it worse. He has you right where he wants you, and you know that. Your cheeks are hot, and your body trembles under his hands. 

You push the cutting board and vegetables aside to clear the countertop in front of you, and Aemond takes that as his cue to flat on the counter. “Didn’t think you’d be such a tease today,” you gulped, the words accompanied by a gasp as he yanks down your leggings and thong. 

Scrambling for hold, you plant your palms flatly on the surface, supporting yourself as you feel the tip of his cock prod against your entrance. You’ve been wet enough to make it easy for him to push inside in one, swift thrust, filling you right to the brim. 

There’s no need for him to give you time to adjust to his size, having had him in the morning already. The pace he sets up isn’t as reckless as his usual pounding, given the position and his legs being slightly bent at the knees. 

His cock drives deeper and deeper, coaxing moans and whines to tumble over your lips, and where the cutting of bell peppers could’ve been heard before, it’s now replaced by the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your moans. 

“So sensitive,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock repeatedly brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself.

His hand comes up to clasp around your throat. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking. His lips press to the side of your face again, and, apart from his heavy breathing fanning over your hot skin, you also hear him mumbling praises. 

Heat builds in your belly as his balls slap against your sensitive bud, sending shivers up your spine and you straight into a frenzy. 

“Who needs dinner when I can have this perfect pussy?” he rambles, speaking more to himself than you. 

Aemond digs his fingers into your hip and pulls you back against him with each thrust, meeting his cock halfway. 

“Gods, I… I–”

“You’re gonna cum for me already, baby?” he rasps into your ear. 

With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his heavy balls slapping against your clit, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release washes over you suddenly. 

Your walls flutter and spasm around him, arousal leaking from around his thick girth and soaking his gray sweatpants. Grinding back against him, you ride out your high in rhythm with his thrusts as he fucks you through it. 

Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the countertop, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding. 

“That’s, fuck, that’s it, mhh,” he hums, the relief in his voice audible.  

With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He pounds it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.

Only as both your aftershocks slowly subside does he move, pressing a trail of kisses from your ear down to your shoulder. His hand slides from your hip underneath your shirt, pulling it up slightly to cup your breast. 

With a low whisper, he sighs. “Can’t wait to marry you.” He kisses your shoulder once more before moving his lips up to your ear, and he can’t help but grind his hips against yours, his cock growing flaccid again. You mewl at that, pushing back against him. “And I can’t wait to put a baby in you.”

At his words, your body feels hot all over. The thought of him getting you pregnant makes your knees buckle, and you feel like you’ll explode at any given moment. 

Your head tips back against his shoulder, and you breathe in quickly before replying, your voice trembling and husky. “Neither can I.”

Hands letting go of the counter, you push him back enough to get him to pull out of you, allowing you to turn around to face him. Your hands move to the seam of his black t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Marveling at his alabaster skin, and the slight imprint of his muscles, following them with your index finger, you look up at him through batted eyelashes. “I’m gonna stop taking the pill soon.”

That seems to stir something in him, and before you can say something else, he grabs your body to throw you over his shoulder. The fit of giggles that erupts dies as soon as you hear his words and note the direction in which he’s walking, immediately replaced by anticipation and excitement. 

“I wonder how soon I can get you pregnant.” 

General Taglist: @belladonnasorcerer @valeskafics @connorsui @arcielee @watercolorskyy @black-dread @darylandbethfanforever9 @croatianprincess @snowystark @moonlightfoxx @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fan-goddess @at-a-rax-ia @tsujifreya @nothingqueens @ashovertheriver @bbgmonsay @doublesparrows @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @thought--bubble @multyfangirl @dixie-elocin @zaldritzosrose @userhotd @delulumhaggy @wolfdressedinlace

Aemond taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel

[sstan-hoe]

𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — (kinda) modern!aemond targaryen × fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — well let's just say I was in a mood and would very much like to try something new...

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — squirting, smut obviously, oral (f receiving), p in v, dirty talk

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — am I back? maybe...I have finals and I feel so stressed, but I hope I can be back in May!

„Aemond! Stop, oh god!“ Aemond draws hard circles over your clit, a shit eating grin painting his face. He had tried for the past two months to get you to squirt and right now he was the closest he’d ever been.

You had nothing against it, even being your idea but right now a weird feeling bubbled in your stomach which you’d never felt before.

Aemond said it had to be like this, you would get a feelings as if a knot was being tied inside you. The knot would get tighter with every passing second, until it finally exploded.

You couldn't pin point the feeling, was it good, was it bad?

Good, amazing, like a relief. As Aemond continued his work he pushed the right button and answered your worries.

Your husband grinned at you as you covered his face with your juice. “You fucking bastard,” you breathed out as you fell back into the pillows. “Bastard? I just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life,” Aemond told you proudly, his ego growing.

When you first brought up the idea squirting, you would have never been able to imagine how wonderful it would make feel.

Still he was a little shit who cheated. “You ready for another?” He asked wiggling his eyebrows with a seductive smirk. “Sorry, but I don’t have to pee again which means you can’t cheat, and we know how the last few times went…,” you trailed off as your eyes moved to the sheets.

Aemond was offended and suddenly grabbed you by your ankles to pull you down further on the bed. A surprised gasp fell from your lips at his actions.

He grasps your hips and shoves himself deep inside, not giving you any chance to adjust to his size — like he did so often. Aemond pulls back and thrusts in enough to move you several inches up the sheets.

The feeling you have felt not too long ago was building up again like a thread that was threatening to be cut with a knife. A snap, a cut, the right angle to the right spot was all it took for your waters to break once more.

Your man couldn’t be any happier as he grinned from ear to ear. Proud of himself that he made you cum and squirt without ‘cheating’.

“Call me a cheater once more, I dare you,” he whispered as his thrusts slowed down. “And get that outcome again?” You cocked a brow at him, receiving a chuckle from him.

“You know I haven’t cum yet…,” he lowly trailed of.

Your eyes widened in shock, “I’m not gonna make you squirt,” you said with raised hands. Aemons shook his head in response, “no my love, that’s not what I meant.”

[nebulamorada]

modern! aemond targaryen x autistic! reader

• Al comienzo de la relación, solía tomar de mala manera muchas de tus preguntas o comentarios, sin agradarle la forma o el "tono" en que las hacías, ahora conociéndote un poco mejor, cada que lo siente indaga un poco más antes de responder.

• En el caso de que necesites ser contenida, estará más que feliz de abrazarte en la forma en la que prefieras, apretandote con fuerza contra él mientras te calmas.

• Siempre tiene consigo un pequeño kit de costura que guarda en su auto, su bolso o algún bolsillo por si acaso se te olvida quitarle la etiqueta a alguna prenda o tienes alguna costura o etiqueta que no notaste que era molesta hasta que te la pusiste.

• Tiene para ti cualquier bebida, golosina o comida que te agrade. Incluso si tienes momentos en los que solo quieres comer una sola cosa, él la conseguirá para ti.

• En el caso de que pases tiempo en su casa, siempre tendrá para ti platos, vasos y cubiertos que puedas usar sin molestia (grandes, pequeños, pesados o ligeros) así como luces que no lastimen tus ojos o telas en los muebles que no te hagan querer arrancarte la piel con un pelador de papas. (ese capaz fue muy específico)

• Por desgracia, comparte cierta parte del grupo de amigos que tiene con Aegon, por lo que en las reuniones que tienen, si asistes tu, él tendrá pequeños juguetes que puedas tener en la mano, tapones para oídos si no quieres llevar tus auriculares o arreglará la juntada en un lugar donde puedas recurrir a un espacio alejado más calmado y sin tanta gente.

• Con él no hay ningún: "es que me da vergüenza..." ES UNA HERRAMIENTA QUE TE AYUDA A DESENVOLVERTE MEJOR EN EL DÍA A DÍA, MANDARÁ AL CARAJO A QUIÉN TE DIGA ALGO.

• Nunca fue mucho de las mascotas más allá de una vieja gata llamada Vhagar que tuvo de niño, pero si tienes algún animal de apoyo estará bien con recibirlo.

• No te lleva a muchas de sus reuniones familiares; Aegon no es muy comprensivo sobre tu sensibilidad auditiva y su madre, al igual que hace con Helaena, tiende a infantilizarte o hablarte lento como si tuvieras algún retraso. Aemond siempre trata de corregir ciertas cosas, brindando la información a la que pudo acceder, pero hasta que eso cambie no te expondrá a eso si no lo deseas.

• "Perdón, sé que vimos está película muchas veces, pero es que..." está bien, él está entretenido viéndote a ti repetir los diálogos y escuchar esa risa bonita en respuesta al mismo chiste que escuchó docenas de veces.

• "Sabías que..." no, él no sabía, dile más. Ama sobre todo cuando le das datos que aprendiste de un tema que a él le gusta para contárselo después.

• Explica lo que necesitas saber sobre ciertas normas sociales no escritas que no puedes entender, aunque siempre termina siendo él quien se replantea esas cosas porque la forma en la que tu explicas tu razonamiento es más lógico que lo suyo.

• Tiene mucho dinero propio y aún más si suma lo que sus padres depositan en una cuenta de banco separada para él, por lo que cualquier cosa del tema que te interese él la comprara para ti; ya sean peluches, ropa, maquillaje, pósters, figuras de acción, stickers, lo que sea.

• En el caso de que hayas tenido alguna mala relación antes, está decidido a expresar abiertamente cuánto ama la forma en la que eres, ya sea guardando en una cajita de madera bien decorada cualquier piedrita, hojita, hilito o botón que le hayas dado o agradeciendo tus actos de servicio.

• Si pasas por momentos de mutismo selectivo, él se ofrecería a hacerte tarjetas.

• Siempre va a intentar que seas más abierta sobre la forma en la que disfrutas que te quieran, ¿qué tipo de toques te agradan más? ¿suaves, bruscos? ¿hay alguna zona que no pueda acariciar? ¿cabello, manos, mejillas? dile, él quiere aprender.

[dolicekiss]

Cameras & Cash

PAIRING: Modern!Aemond Targaryen X camgirl!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni) reader is sort of like an innocent bimbo, cam girl reader turned sugar baby, controlling aemond, toxic aemond, petnames, masturbation, fingering, brutal throat fucking, breath play, sugar daddy aemond, forced brutal fucking, pussy slapping, face slapping, hair pulling, degrading, humiliation, condescension, riding, mating press, choking, spitting.

SYNOPSIS: When Aemond finds you with your fingers deep inside your cunt, sprawled in front of a computer, he realizes his roommate is a camgirl in need of cash. He offers you money, in exchange for your time and attention while setting one rule in front of you; never turn off your location. But you exactly end up doing that.

The last thing Aemond Targaryen expected was to walk in on his little roommate, you, with your fingers in between your pretty pink cunt, moans of desperation and need falling her glossy lips. Fingers thrusting inside your sweet hole, sprawled out in front of your webcam set atop a table in front of your bed.

His jaw clenched, hearing the sounds that escaped your lips. His fingers had tightened around the plastic bag in which he had brought you food — something he thought you'd like.

Little did he know you were relishing in your solitude.

“Hm, please—God, feels so good.” Aemond gulped, shutting his eyes for a moment as he attempted to move but it was as if his feet were frozen to the ground, not allowing him to move at all. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he attempted to swallow the lump of saliva that had formed in his throat.

You were supposed to be an innocent, shy nerd. This, it was not you or maybe it fucking was. Aemond had no idea anymore but he should've figured it out. Every time you'd get multiple packages to your name, littered outside their apartment door and you'd always make up excuses. He should've kniwn something was up, something like this.

His fucking roommate was a camgirl.

Aemond snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the constant ringing of something, tiny little bells going off.

Your eyes fluttered open to glance at the screen, to check in the tips sent to you by your viewers but instead you caught a glimpse of Aemond standing in the doorway. Immediately you retrieved your fingers from your soaked cunt and pressed the button to end the live stream.

You didn't even bother explaining.

First you had to get out of this damn bunny suit.

Your mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts as you leaped here and there to grab something appropriate to wear. The soft bunny tail embedded in your suit bounced up and down as you moved and Aemond cursed himself for finding it adorable. Thinking how it'd bounce each time he would thrust his cock inside you.

Once your fingers managed to grasp onto an oversized sweatshirt, Aemond watched as you dashed for the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind.

In a couple of minutes you were out, dressed in the sweatshirt and not the playboy bunny suit anymore. Your sweatshirt covered your thighs and Aemond averted his gaze away from you, standing still.

“I'm so sorry you had to see that.” You apologized, nodding your head as your gaze fell down to the plastic bag in his hand. It had the logo of your favorite restaurant and you smiled. But then it disappeared realizing how stunned he appeared. “I can explain—”

“You're a camgirl?”

Well, the question was abrupt but you knew Aemond was not the type of guy to beat around the bush. He was direct, straight forward and less expressive than normal people you'd met on the campus.

Heat flooded beneath your cheeks as you nodded. “It's—It's to pay for for my loans. It pays a lot.”

Aemond tilted his head, his gaze lingering across the room. How disheveled it was when you were usually reserved, put together and calm. His eyes found you, how small you were in comparison to him. Brain playing all sorts of imaginations right now. “How well does it pay?”

Thousands of dollars.” You responded, fingers moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I need it, for tuition and living expenses.”

Aemond’s mind was blank but then an idea lit up in his mind. You needed money and fortunately enough, you were a pretty girl. He'd always acknowledged that and kept an eye on you, albeit he kept to himself most of the time. You two weren't close enough to be called friends but you two knew each other.

“I have a proposition.”

You blinked, confused by his words.

But what followed next left you speechless.

“How would you feel, if you had a sponsor?” Aemond said, his hand scratching his nape.

You gulped, appalled by his abrupt proposition. “You'd pay for everything?”

“Of course I would. Everything would be taken care of.” Aemond took a step. “No student loans. No having to work a job. I would take care of everything. In return you’d just have to do one little thing.” Aemond said as she continued being awkward, like this was the first time he'd ever done this.

You knew that Aemond was the richest guy around campus. He basically possessed enough money to purchase the whole of the university you two attended. You were on a scholarship but living expenses and other loans were piling up. It was already hard as it is settling in a new place, but then you decided to become a camgirl. It required a lot of effort and courage to step into the world of sex work but it was enough to take care of you.

You knew that nothing came for free.

Especially kindness from someone rich. Everything had a cost to it — nothing in this world was for free. Besides oxygen but you could even see that becoming sellable in the near future.

“And what is this little thing?” You asked with suspicion in your gaze. You almost wanted to chuckle, since you were proven right. “You want to be my sugar daddy, now?”

Aemond cleared his throat at the label. He did not like labels. He was not very fond of them but he nodded since it made things very easier for you to understand. ”Is that a problem? Everyone you want, you'll get. You'll be taken care of, all your needs fulfilled.”

You pondered over it.

The deal wasn't bad — it was way better than touching yourself for thousands of men on the intention.

But then it would mean depending on him, for everything. You didn't know how much you liked the idea. If things went haywire with him, you would still have enough money in your bank account for you get back up on your feet and being a cam girl was something you could get back into at any time.

You scrunched up your nose and thought before finally giving in.

But you were also curious as to why he wished to be your sugar daddy.

“Okay, I'm down for it.” You nodded your head and smiled. “But— I don't understand, why are you helping me out?”

“You need money and I have a tremendous amount to offer.” Aemond spoke as he stepped closer to you, his fingers reaching out to curl around the long strand of hair, watching with a hawk like gaze. “I do have some conditions for this little arrangement, my pretty girl.”

Your cheeks flushed at the praise, something of the same sort as greed spreading within your stomach. “Yeah?”

“First, I don't want any other man in your life besides me.” You tilted your head at the possessiveness dripping from his words and how strict he sounded. “You belong to me and whatever I buy you, you'd wear. I want you to tell me where you are at all times of the day and lastly, you will be moving in my room.”

You blinked, dumbfounded by the set of peculiar rules set before you. They reeked of control and you gulped, realizing that the man before you wished to control you. It left you a little light headed as your mind pushed and pushed for you to decline but the deal was too tempting.

“I can't have boyfriends?” You asked, a little confused at what he was proposing. The relationship between the two of you was solely going to be based on give and take, an exchange that could satisfy both parties so what was up with that.

Aemond shook his head. “If you agree to this, you'd be mine which means no boyfriends, no dates and no hookups. I'll be available to satisfy your needs, whatever it is what you need. Whether it be materialistic, emotional or physical.”

So these conditions weren't as hard and impossible as you thought they'd be.

“You're controlling.” You stated the obvious.

Aemond scoffed. “I'm a Targaryen, our family is known for being in control at all times and chasing after the best results in everything. You should know that.”

He was right. His family was known all over the news — the media practically chased after them like they were air. It was lost on you how you managed to land in a university with him, as his roommate too. But you weren't complaining.

“I'll provide everything. Clothes, food, money, everything you could possibly desire. All I ask for is a little control and pretty company.” Your cheeks reddened at his words as you realized he'd called you pretty. The last thing you expected was to get complimented by the guy who mostly kept to himself and tried to avoid everyone.

You licked your lips, wetting it before finally nodding. “I like this. Both parties will be satisfied, it's valid.”

“Good girl.” Aemond’s sudden shift in nature was confusing but also somewhat enticing as you'd not expected him to be so dominant and controlling. “Do you have any other questions?”

You were going to say no but something popped up in your head. “Does the not involving other people rule apply to you as well, or are you allowed to have other women in your life?”

Aemond understood your question and knew where it came from. Definitely not from a place of insecurity but he was well aware that if he entertained other women while forbidding you from doing the same with other men, it would only cause you to feel inferior and lead to the downfall of whatever this situation was.

“Absolutely not.” Aemond broke the haunting silence. “I have no reason to invite other women into my life if I already have you, willing and pliant.”

You pondered over it and he was right. Albeit this relationship was based on personal needs, it was not necessary for him to have other women since he had you. “We have a deal.”

Aemond nodded his head and then his gaze dropped to the worn out sweatshirt that you were in. An idea lighted up in his head as he closed the small distance between the two of you, slim fingers extending to move along the open threads of red on the neckline of your sweatshirt. He made a mental note to spoil you rotten and take you shopping.

“Be a good girl and change for me. I'm taking you shopping, you need a new wardrobe.”

You didn't take offense to his words. Knowing his taste was beyond something you could ever afford in this lifestyle. You nodded your head and turned around, moving over to your small closet.

You found a short, pink thigh length dress with ruffles at its end. It was your best dress, something you could wear around Aemond as he was filthy rich and not someone of your stature. You quickly cleaned yourself up, sprayed some perfume and left the bathroom, standing in front of him now.

Aemond noticed the light makeup you'd worn and he smiled. Cheeks a shade of beetroot and lashes curled to the top, he stood up from the edge of your bed where he'd taken a seat and walked over to you.

“You look gorgeous.”

You felt your cheeks redden more and a smile crossed your lips. “Thank you.”

Aemond reached forward, fingers managing to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and the close proximity riled you up. It was weird, this dynamic. How he'd gone from barely paying attention to you to this, willing to pay and provide, look after all your needs as long as you held your end of the bargain.

You were excited, as you grabbed your white purse and tossed it across your shoulder.

“I have one more thing to ask.”

You stalled, look up at him with confusion implanted all over your face. Eyebrows arched and Aemond stepped closer, shrinking the dance between you two. His breath mingled with yours when he leaned down — lips hovering above yours. Abruptly you felt a wave of tension and goosebumps hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Kiss.”

Your lips twitched. “Huh?”

Aemond smiled. “A kiss to seal the deal, my pretty girl. Can you do that for me?”

You knew you'd have to bring more than a kiss to the table and the idea didn't vex you, so you got on your tippy toes — the massive height difference working to arouse you even more. You could barely reach his shoulder and you moved your hands over his chest, palms laid on it for support as your lips met his in a soft kiss.

Your intention was to give him a gentle peck, wanting to not rush things.

But his lips were so fucking soft. The softest pair you'd ever felt against your own and you let out a soft sigh, tilting your head as the hands over his chest slithered over to circle around his nape.

Aemond’s own eye fluttered shut as his muscular arms reached for your waist, holding you in place.

You slowly pulled back as the kiss was getting heated and looked up at him, like an innocent deer.

“Was that okay?”

Aemond was fucking gone.

Pupils blown out, lips parted as he gazed down at you. Just one kiss has drove him to the brink of insanity and with the way you looked at him, he could imagine you looking up at him from the floor on your knees, plump glossy lips wrapped around his cock. The image made him inhale, his nose burying in your hair to implant your scent into his mind.

“Perfect.”

That was all he said as he turned around on his loafers and began to make his way out of your room. You followed, your little purse in your hand as you tried to keep up with his pace. He was tall and his body was made up of mostly his slender legs. Aemond was a beautiful man and even his walk was powerful enough to let everyone know of his arrival.

In the elevator, the two of you stood in awkward silence — your mind completely glossing over the fact that you barely knew much about your roommate. Only that he possessed a trust fund, had billions of dollars at his fingers and was quiet and liked to keep to himself.

And that he was also very intelligent when it came to achieving higher studies.

“You can ask for anything.” Aemond suddenly broke the silence. “Doesn't only have to be clothes. Just put your finger on it and it'll be yours.”

Heated infiltrated your cheeks as you nodded coyly. “Thank you.”

“I'm doing this to prove that I will be holding my end of the deal and I'm serious about this arrangement. I hope it is mutual.” Aemond said as he scrolled through his phone.

You smiled at him, raising your head to look up at him. “Yes, of course. I'm also serious and here, I will share my live location with you right now.”

You opened your purse and pulled out your phone, scrolling through it here and there. You had Aemond’s number since you two were roommates, in the same campus and classes. Turning your location on and sending it to him, you glanced at his phone as it lit up, indicating that your location was shared with him.

“Good girl.” Aemond smiled, albeit subtle while raising his hand to place it upon your head, patting it. “Never turn it off, am I understood?”

You nodded. “Y-Yeah.”

The elevator soon opened and he stepped out with you pursuing him. The parking lot was empty and as Aemond walked, he rummaged through his pocket for a key and pulled it out, unlocking it. A black maserati was unlocked and you swallowed. It was the same car he often attended the university in.

Your breath was caught up in your throat because of how expensive it was. Aemond of course took note of your delightful expression and a subtle smile displayed on his face.

It was obvious that you had a liking for sparkling expensive items.

He reached the car and opened the door for you. Obviously as someone who had no experiences with men, you were more than charmed. You settled inside and he shut the door, before sitting in the car too.

“Have you finished all your assignments?”

Aemond questioned while he took the car in reverse, taking it out of the parking. You nodded at him, though you were more occupied by the opulence surrounding you at the moment. Beautiful and comfortable black leather seats — the padding beneath your butt providing you with comfort. Your eyes wandered everywhere and Aemond tilted his head as he stole small glances from you.

“So you're free now?”

“Hm, I usually finish up all my assignments first and then get to camning. Education is foremost and important.”

He was impressed by how seriously you took your grades and your education. He often watched you in class while you'd write down notes, listening intently to the teacher and scowling whenever someone would interrupt your perpetual intake of knowledge. He found it endearing.

“Can I ask you something?”

Aemond looked at you before nodding his head, his knuckles closed around the wheel of the car as he entered the street.

You swallowed. “You're handsome, rich and you mostly mind your own business. You could have any girl on the campus then why did you offer me this sort of lifestyle?”

Aemond knew it was coming.

He had a pretty valid answer for it too. He had a smug smile on his face after you'd mentioned you found him handsome. Despite the massive scar on his face concealed beneath an eye patch, people found him beautiful enough to be a model.

“Like you said, I'm controlling.” Aemond responded. “Girls don't like that and I understand why they don't, hence I decided to propose this deal. You profit off me, I get what I want which is control.”

You tilted your head, fingers nervously playing with the ruffles of your dress.

“You're basically giving me consent to have control over you. It's comfortable for both parties, no?”

He wasn't wrong the more you thought about it. He'd left it to you, it was up to you whether you were going to hand him the control over you or not and you had, considering how rich he was. How much he could provide. You didn't see anything wrong with it as weird as it might appear to outsiders.

“I suppose you're right.”

You smiled softly and Aemond glanced at you before his eye dropped lower, his jaw clenching at your exposed thighs. The image of you sprawled out with your fingers driving endlessly into your dampened cunt flashed into his mind and he inhaled — bringing his focus to driving.

The car ride was short as the malls were quite near.

Aemond parked his car and then got out, pulling open the door for you. You thanked him and the two of you were on your way inside the shopping mall.

Aemond parked his car and then got out, pulling open the door for you. You thanked him and the two of you were on your way inside the shopping mall.

It was definitely one where they sold the most luxurious items. Bright lights greeted you, beautiful stores and mannequins wearing the most eye catching pieces of clothing. Your throat went dry as he lead you.

“Pick.”

You turned to him, confused. “Pick?”

“Pick a store, whichever you want to go to.”

You nodded your head and then pointed towards the dior one. You'd always wanted to buy those famous lipglosses plastered all over social media and now you could as Aemond lead you there. You were like a cat, tied to a leash that he controlled.

Upon entering the store, the staff approached you and Aemond leaned down to say something in your ear.

“I'll be over there on the couch. Once you're done, come to me.”

With that he left, abandoning you but you didn't mind. You couldn't expect him to follow you around as you looked at different items. You asked the lady about the famous lip gloss and she smiled, leading you to the table. Then she brought out the fresh piece and you immediately fell in love with how beautifully packaged it was.

While you shopped, Aemond sipped champagne. Watching you with the gaze of a hawk — following you around the store as you picked out other items. Different dresses, some bags and makeup. He didn't mind. He had unlimited cash, never ending. His bank accounts were filled to the brim when it came to money as their business ran wild.

He had enough to provide for his next generation and then the one which followed after.

He wanted you to buy what you desired first.

That would cause you to become malleable, moldable. To his own cause and needs. He could easily shove you into a small, revealing dress for him only to rip it and fuck you in it.

The idea wasn't half bad.

His eye followed your legs, walking the store, long and slim. He sipped the liquid, feeling lightheaded almost at the thought of those legs being wrapped around his waist, or perched up on his shoulders as he thrusted his cock into your sweet little cunt.

You were his now.

The perfect little pet.

You came back to him with a wide smile, the nervousness gone from your face. Your features relaxed. “I'm done, Aemond.”

“Let us pay then.” He said, placing the glass down on the table next to the pale couch and standing up.

After sauntering over to the counter, he passed his hard over to the cashier. He didn't even care to look at the recipient, his attention focused more on you. The way you were smiling brightly, cheeks round and happiness oozed from you.

“Thank you.” The cashier smiled, handing Aemond the card while your items were packaged. You picked them up, not wanting to burden him as he carried on with the shipping spree, walking out after tucking his card in his back pocket.

Your small feet could barely keep up with him as he made his way over to another store — named Chanel. Despite coming from a poor background, you were well aware of these brands and how much a simple dress could cost.

“Your size.”

He questioned, looking down at you.

You gulped and told him your size. He only nodded as he was again approached by the staff of this store. They were usually very polite and sweet, more than willing to help out with anything. This time Aemond picked out dresses for you, some black while others in complete contrast.

It was a long, long spree and by the end of it, you were tired and you couldn't carry anymore bad anymore. Aemond had bought you everything that remotely looked beautiful on you, your arms drowning in bags and his too.

“Aemond, I need a new laptop.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and nodded, taking a turn. You followed behind like his personal pet as he stopped at a store. The boy, despite being around the same age as you, was massively taller than you. It hurt your legs to keep up with him.

As he got the laptop packaged, he turned to you and patted your head. “Do you need anything else?”

You pondered. You really did but you had almost everything in the palm of your hand for now. “I—I don't think I do. I'm very hungry though.”

“I'll take you to a restaurant.” Aemond said as he took the bag from the cashier, also his credit card, once again not sparing the recipient a glance. It was futile to him, as all his life he had never bothered to check the tag on something as small as clothes and daily use items.

You shook your head. “Can we eat here, in one of the food courts? I'm craving pizza.”

He stared down at you and then reluctantly nodded. He could do that much for you as much as he found it gross eating in food courts. He was willing to do that for you, as long as you stayed by his side. Aemond was not in love, nor was he obsessed.

But you'd caught his eye.

With your coy personality, how you kept to yourself and turned down people in the university.You were like him in ways and your beauty played a big part in your allure.

He nodded his head and you smiled, clapping your hands but not loudly enough to grasp everyone's attention. Without thinking twice, your arm wrapped around his as you pulled him along to a nearby food court. There were multiple small fast food restaurants.

Aemond stared down at the way you wrapped your arm around his — your plush breasts caressing the side of his arm, as you walked. He looked away and cleared his throat. Aemond wished to pounce on you and take you right on the floor of the mall but he had no intentions to intimidate you, to scare you off.

This was his chance.

He was not going to ruin it.

The two of you ordered after taking a seat and once your food had arrived, you digged in. The taste melting right at your tongue and you wriggled on your chair, a habit which had pursed you from childhood into adulthood. You often did that — a little dance, whenever you were eating something delicious.

Pizza was delicious.

“Are you happy?” Aemond asked, tilting his head as he stared at you.

You nodded. You were more than happy, you were ecstatic. This was like a dream, something beyond the realm of your subconscious mind. Only fulfilled within the abstract form of your mind.

“I'm more than happy.” You sent him a wide smile, your cheeks rounding up and eyes disappearing.

He couldn't understand why you were this happy because all of this, he owned. He was the rightful owner yet he never felt the same level of happiness that you were showcasing right now. He had all the money in the world, unnecessary amount of wealth left by his ancestors but he felt empty, like a tin can. Shallow and an abyss had formed within his rotten core.

It rendered him flummoxed often.

He watched you eat your meal. You were like a little girl in a candy shop, or a child lost in a toy shop. Happiness suited you. It made you appear ethereal and his mind wandered off to other sinful thoughts. It was painfully embarrassing how he kept thinking of ruining you, fucking you in one of the many lingerie pieces he'd bought you.

You were finished soon and he barely had an appetite. Aemond and you were back in his car, driving towards the apartment. This time his hand landed on your thigh, fingers curving around it, holding it. Thumb swiping across the soft supple flesh, his jaw clenched.

You felt butterflies nip at your stomach as heat pooled in your lower abdomen. Even though you did not know much about Aemond other than what you'd gathered from people on campus and little details by living with him, you found him attractive nonetheless. His beauty was unlike you had ever seen before.

You felt butterflies nip at your stomach as heat pooled in your lower abdomen. Even though you did not know much about Aemond other than what you'd gathered from people on campus and little details by living with him, you found him attractive nonetheless. His beauty was unlike you had ever seen before.

Enchanting. Captivating. Alluring.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

Aemond’s hand moved up now, while he drove and stared ahead. You wondered if it was on purpose or if he was too lost in driving to even be conscious of his own actions? The question was left unanswered as the side of his fingers caressed along your clothed cunt.

You flinched at the touch.

But you didn't complain, nor did you stop him.

Instead, the fluttering need in your stomach made you part your thighs open a little, giving him more access.

His fingers kept brushing along your clothed slit, running it along your clit. Your breath grew uneven as he completely pushed his hand between your thighs. Aemond’s fingers pressed onto your swollen clit, which demanding attention, through the fabric of your cotton panties. He found it endearing how despite being a cam girl — you had a pair of cotton panties on.

Then he retrieved his hand, leaving you aching and squirming on the seat.

It was already evening now, the sun had begun to set and darkness was soon going to lay above the city.

Aemond turned the car somewhere, you had no idea where. Then it came to a halt, as he pulled the brakes and the sound of the unlocked doors caught your attention. His jaw was clenched and his face was impassive. It did intimidate you, even if just a little bit.

Aemond turned the car somewhere, you had no idea where. Then it came to a halt, as he pulled the brakes and the sound of the unlocked doors caught your attention. His jaw was clenched and his face was impassive. It did intimidate you, even if just a little bit.

“Get in the back.”

That was all he said, before stepping out and getting back in the car. You did the same and now there was nothing separating you from him. The lever was not in between you two and your heart pounded like wild horses galloping against your ribcage.It was quiet.

You wanted to speak, but the moment you raised your head up to do it, Aemond’s hand slithered across your nape as he slammed his lips over yours. It left you with heightened desires and desperate needs. Your thighs pushed, creating friction for some sort of relief as his grip tightened on your nape. He pushed you again the door — the force of it making you wince as your back collided with the handle.

Aemond moved his lips over yours like an animal, not permitting you to breathe or even take the lead.

Is this what he meant by being controlling? Because right in that very moment, it seemed as though Aemond Targaryen would swallow you whole without letting you possess an ounce of control over him, over the actions being done between you two. His free hand slammed on the window as he trapped you completely, while devouring your lips.

Sucking and biting with utter need.

Your small hands shifted to push at his chest but to no avail. Like a strong tornado which only knew how to consume and devour, Aemond’s mind knew only of that goal. To consume and devour you.

His teeth sunk into your lower lip, nipping and you whined. Your little sounds filling up the car, causing his cock to stir awake in his leather pants. He was over the edge already, all he needed was a little push.

His hands moved to the edge of your dress, bunching up the ruffles between his fingers and pushing them up. You couldn't stop him even if you wanted to — he was strong and he was not going to stop. His actions were enough as a testament that Aemond was fucking needy.

Feeling the cold air from the conditioning in the car trickle against the sensitive skin of your thighs, you whined at the sensation of being devoured and ravaged while the heat in your abdomen warred with the chilling air.

“Aemond—”

He occupied your lips in a kiss again, slithering his greedy tongue inside your mouth and fucking it.

All while his hands found a path inside your thighs, inching deeper and deeper until his fingers brushed along your soaked panties, feeling how your cunt throbbed. A guttural groan escaped him at the feeling and he didn't waste time sliding your cotton panties aside, leaving light touches over your drenched cunt.

“Gods,” Aemond murmured against your swollen lips, “you're soaking wet.”

A satisfaction seeped into the confinement of his chest as he angled the bad of his thumb over your pearl, moving it in soft slow circles earning a breathy gasp out of you. It sent chills straight down to his loins, his leather slacks tightening and he felt suffocated in his clothes.

All because of how pretty you sounded.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Aemond questioned like he was speaking to a child and you looked up at him, doe-eyed expression, eyes exploding with wanton and desire as you nodded.

He lowered his face to the side of your face, going lower and lower until he was buried in your neck. Aemond inhaled, the sickeningly sweet scent overwhelming his senses as the circles he rubbed over your clit grew hastier, needier.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, Aemond noticed how your hips squirmed on the seat, moving side to side and he grinned at that. He ran a long digit up your soaked slit, accumulating the essence of your sticky arousal and then probing at your slick hole. It wasn't long before he had slid his finger in and your small hand moved to grab his shoulder.

Eyes rolled back, you cried out a wail and tightened around him. Being a cam girl, he'd expected you to be used to this but the faces you made, the sounds you let out, it was as if you were experiencing all of this for the first time ever.

Like a little virgin.

“Pretty girl,” he whispered along your neck before baring his teeth and sinking them in your skin. “all mine, my pretty girl.”

It was lost on you in that moment that Aemond Targaryen was staking his claim on you, possessing you.

You had no idea what you'd gotten yourself into but in this moment you could only focus on his finger moving inside your sweet cunt, his thumb drawing tender circles on your pulsating clit and his soft lips leaving bite marks and kisses along your skin.

Soon he added another finger, using both, curving them in an endless search for that sweet spot concealed within you. Soon, he found it when he thrusted up and your back arched, hand fisting the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder and head pressed against the windows of his car.

You looked absolutely ravishing.

“I can imagine the faces you'd make with my cock inside you, deep within your puffy cunt, thrusting inside.” He whispered and you hadn't expected him to be this vocal, especially when he was such a quiet person in general.

Always minding his own business, keeping to himself and not even engaging in any conversations besides the ones that are necessary.

“You'd like that, pretty girl?” Aemond questioned in a low, sultry voice. “Like my cock pounding into your pussy?”

You responded by clenching around his fingers, snuggly clasped around the pair and he chuckled in his ear. Low and deep. You really were a needy, greedy little thing and he felt his ego inflate even more at the thought of having you like this. “Something tells me you'd love it.”

Tears prickled your waterline as he thrusted his fingers deep inside you, knuckles pressing against your quivering flesh as he continued his biting. Your right leg was sprawled over his thigh as loud, prominent whimpers and moans flew out of your mouth. You were a loud one, a vocal thing but he didn't mind.

He enjoyed it.

Relished the sounds you made. All because of him. He kept plunging his digits inside you, watching your face as it contorted in pleasure and a layer of perspiration had sheened over your forehead. The heat in your body, warmth flooding through your veins winning in the battle against the air conditioning of the car.

The coil inside your stomach was near to snapping, your thighs suffering from tremors as your walls snugged his fingers. Tight to the point he felt the warmth from his fingers shoot straight to his loins. Painfully hard he was but right now, it was all about you.

After all he needed you malleable.

“Aemond, please. I.. I'm gonna..” You cried out, hips writhing on the leather seat and he curved his fingers deeper. “Let go, pretty girl. Make a mess on my fingers, show me how pretty you look when you come.”

That was all you needed. All the encouragement as you arched your nape and gasped out. Eyes rolling to greet the darkness behind lowered lids, the coil within your stomach snapped and you ascended heaven in a way foreign to you. Thighs convulsing and hips twitching, tears streamed down your face as you sobbed from the pleasure.

Gods, you were absolutely sensitive and beautiful. Perfection and Aemond knew he'd made the right choice.

All you saw was white, for a fleeting moment when you gushed out. Making an absolute mess over his expensive leather seats and fisting the fabric of his polo shirt to the point of pale knuckles.

Aemond was in awe.

How beautiful you seemed, crying and in complete bliss. In that moment he contemplated taking you right there, in that damn car. But that one little mistake, one tiny slip up of unbridled desires would become the bane of this entire situation and he did not want that. Circumspect to actually push more, so he took you in his arms and pressed your face in his chest.

“You're fine,” he whispered, softly as your flushed cheeks throbbed from the heat and embarrassment. Gaze flickering down to leather black seats glistening from your climax. “you did well, pretty girl. You were amazing.”

Hearing praise from someone could mean so much and your heart fluttered as your own arms moved to wrap around his nape. Buried in his chest, it was a good feeling. Being taken care of like this, it surely helped you feel much better about this whole predicament.

“I'm sorry about your car.” You whispered and Aemond shook his head.

The car didn't matter, the fine leather didn't matter when he could watch you unravel like this each and everytime. “Don't worry about it, it's nothing.”

You'd calmed down now and thoughts lingered. This situation wasn't as bad as you'd expected it to turn out and it made you relax a little, nerves put to sleep.

A month had passed.

Life had changed drastically for you. Camming was long forgotten as Aemond provided you with everything. From a something as minor as a toothbrush to a luxurious car. He had given you everything, anything that you ever even laid your gaze on and you truly felt like a princess.

That was until you decided to go out with your friends to a club.

It was packed. Loud music and flashing lights expanding over the area outside, a sinful invitation for the people passing by on the streets.

You were dragged along by your friends and giggles erupted from your mouth as the entrance to the club was packed but nonetheless, you were allowed in. It was the same club which you had visited multiple times with Aemond in the past one month and the bouncers immediately recognized you, giving you permission.

Using Aemond’s power to go into VIP clubs was thrilling. It was what you got in return for being his little plaything.

The music was boosting, its bass loud enough to shake the club dance floor. You were pulled to the bar and your two girl friends ordered some drinks. Each ordering a shot of tequila with lemon and salt. They had begged you to come to the club with them and had even encouraged you to turn off your location.

A big mistake.

But the idea of a fun night out without a care in the world was too enticing for you to not act upon it.

The club was crowded, people going crazy on the dance floor, some couples even making out in the corner and you grinned, brain showing you images of the time when you had ridden Aemond’s cock in the corner of the club on a couch. It was euphoric and the memory brought heat to your cheeks.

“Drink up!” You heard a friend scream over the music and the three of you drowned your shots.

That carried on until you three had consumed about four shots. You swayed over to the dance floor, the music picking up and your friends followed. Dancing your heart out, you turned down every boy that dared to approach you, telling them how you were already in a relationship.

A relationship that was not normal.

Your phone in your purse buzzed and buzzed, set to vibration, with text messages from Aemond and missed calls. All which you ignored in the pursuit of a fun night out.

Meanwhile Aemond was holding his device in his, gripping it with such exertion, it could break in his hands. He was at a dinner with his parents, carrying on conversations about his university life but when he decided to check your location and found it turned off, an irritation set ablaze. The cherry on top were you not picking up his calls, nor responding to his texts like he didn't exist.

It angered him.

You'd broken that one rule he had strictly prohibited you from breaking.

“Excuse me. I've got some business to attend to,” he stood up from the chair abruptly and nodded to his parents, before leaving the table. He'd hopped in his car with a clenched jaw and a hard glare, his knuckles releasing all his anger and frustration on the damn steering wheel.

“Pick up, fucking pick up.” He muttered, dialing your number again but to no avail. Aemond was disappointed. He was seething and he had absolutely no fucking idea about your whereabouts or if you were even safe.

You'd never done that before.

As he was about to tap on your number again, his eye narrowed at the number which flashed before in his gaze. Picking it up, she brought it to his ear.

“What.”

“Your girlfriend is here. With her friends, I thought you should know.” It was the manager of the club, someone that Aemond knew very well.

With poorly contained rage, he responded back. “Keep an eye on her, I'll be there.”

He tossed his phone into the passenger seat and picked up, foot pressing against the accelerator. It wasn't long before he had parked right outside the club and maneuvered his way through the large crowd of people. Lips in a tight line, his one good eye ran over the people dancing.

And there you were.

With anticipation drumming in his chest, he found you with your arms in air as you swayed your hips left and right. A big smile stretched over your face, without a damn worry in the world.

He scoffed and walked over to you, his hand reaching out to circle around your frail wrist. Aemond pulled you to him and a gasp left your lips when your eyes met his and a chill ran down your spine. He looked angry, the expression was never seen before on his face but it was there.

Usually he was very sweet, very gentle, and he fucked good too.

But right now you could feel the heat emanating from him.

“While I’m worried sick, having no fucking idea about your whereabouts, you're having the time of your fucking life.” Aemond snapped at you and his harsh tone knocked the air out of your lungs.

But that wasn't enough.

He dragged you out of the club, not caring about the amount of people he crashed into, his only goal being dragging your ass back to your shared apartment and reprimanding you. Reminding you who owned you, who you belonged to, who fucking looked after you.

Your attempts to free your wrist out of his grip were proven useless as he pushed you into the car, watching how your body collided against the plush seats. Then he moved over and slid into the driver’s seat. A scowl was evident on his face as his speed went above hundred, reaching the apartments soon.

It scared you how quiet he was being.

You could not dare to speak up, to apologize to him because he was furious. All you could do was sit there, with trembling hands and a stomach churning with anticipation. Forehead covered in a thin layer of perspiration and lips twitching, you two made it out of the car.

His hand was clasped once again around your wrist, dragging you up to the apartment.

The moment he reached the door, he opened it and pushed you inside with a scoff. His face devoid of any emotion other than anger and you felt your heart thud like a galloping horse in your chest. Aemond was like a deadly viper, waiting to envelope you.

“What did I say about the location?”

You knew he wanted you to say it, but your throat had dried. Your lips glued together and Aemond reached forward, closing the distance between you two, fingers dimpling into your cheeks to elevate your chin up. Grip harsh and searing.

“What. Did. I. Fucking. Say?”

You flinched. “Never.. Never turn it off.”

He nodded. “And what did you fucking do?”

“I turned it off.” You whispered, feeling the weight of what you've done heave down on you. The fear spread across your face was such a enticing sight for him and it only burgeoned the strength he applied to your chin.

You whimpered in response.

His pupils were dilated, blown fully and his pale skin was dusted red from all the anger and frustration pent up inside him. You panted, breathing ragged and broken as you tried to soothe him. “I'm sorry—I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, my friends, they told me it wouldn't matter—”

“Your friends fucking told you to turn off your location and you listened to them?” Aemond lowly questioned, his next words were even more condescending making you feel like you actually were stupid. “Are you that dumb?”

You felt tears brim your eyes and you sniffled, feeling like you had disappointed him. Like you'd ruined the perfect relationship which had stirred between the two of you and the sight of you so fragile, on the brink of falling apart only made his longing for you grow even more. “Who pays for your little designer bags, huh? I recall it is my credit card that you swipe whenever a new dior bag catches your eye, not your fucking friends.”

Aemond released your chin and you almost felt relief wash over you, only he used the same hand to grab you by your nape, dragging you along.

Your feet could barely keep up in the tall heels you were as he carelessly pulled you along up the stairs.

“You need a good throat fucking. That'll fix you right up.” Aemond said through gritted teeth, pulling you over the stairs.

Reaching your shared room, he pushed inside it and took a seat on the bed. His actions rough and condescending as he shoved you down on your knees. It hurt from how harshly he was man handling you but you felt as though you deserved it for breaking a rule.

“I'm sorry—”

Your head whipped to the side from the sheer force of his hand colliding against your right cheek. A burning sensation blossoming paired with scarlet and your eyes widened at him. It had left you speechless and Aemond’s hand drowned in your locks, tugging on them at the base causing you to arch your nape and look up at him.

“If you used your mouth for something else other than sucking my cock, I'll make sure you never see the light again.” He threatened, with a glare. “Understood?”

You were not one to take his threats lightly and you nodded, with a soft sob escaping your lips. The sight of you so unraveled and disheveled, even though he had not done anything as of yet made his heart clench and his resolve almost crumbled apart.

Only his anger possessiveness won.

His eye dropped down to the prominent bulge in his pants and you didn't need any more clear instructions than that to do what he wanted. Trembling fingers worked their way around his pants as you dragged his zipper down. In a few seconds, you had unveiled his cock and pulled it out. It didn't curve or hit his abdomen, the heavy weight of it holding it down. With his cock, came equally heavy balls and a shudder ran through you at the sight.

Closing your fist around his cock, you earned a growl from him.

“Suck.” He commanded and you were more than quick to oblige, leaning in and closing your glossy lips around his cock.

Taking him deeper and deeper, sliding with your tongue laid flat against his underside, feeling a vein there throb with obvious wanton. You dived in more, the tip of your nose coming in contact with his neatly trimmed hair emerging from his groin. Tears spilled when his swollen cockhead breached your throat, fully nestling in there.

Aemond groaned, his hips bucking up with need. “Hold still, don't fucking move.”

You tried, attempted to stay still but when he moved his hand down to pinch your nose, destroying any chance of you receiving oxygen, you started trashing. Aemond didn't care, relishing how you broke and teared up more, face turning pale.

“This is exactly how I felt when your stupid fucking location was off, princess. How worried I got, how I couldn't fucking breathe.” Aemond reprimanded and all you could do was look at him with tearful, pleading eyes, begging to be let go.

You trashed here and there, hands moving to his thigh, nails digging into his skin through his dress pants but that was nothing in front of the anger which had erupted like a damn volcano from him. Your desperation to free yourself was least bothersome to him as he tightened his fingers around your nose.

Saliva sputtered around your mouth as you sobbed, endlessly trying to free yourself and then Aemond finally released you. Both his hands moving back to rest on the mattress, he watched you inhale long chains of oxygen, watching you fall back on your ass and claw at your throat.

“Back to sucking, whore.” Aemond snapped his fingers.

You looked up at him through a teary gaze and nodded, getting back on your knees and wrapping your mouth around him, engulfing him. He groaned at the return of your warmth and bucked his hips up, fucking your throat with abandon. It wasn't lost before he spurted his hot white cum inside your throat, straight shooting down. You fluttered your lids shut and swallowed all around his mouth, not leaving a drop.

Aemond didn't even have to order you to swallow, knowing you were generally obedient.

His large hand moved from the bed, laying on top of your head as he collected your hair in a fist, pulling you up. Pain shot through your scalp and you stiffened, looking up at him as he brought you up. “You disappointed me, greatly. I've given you everything, made you a fucking princess overnight and you couldn't keep one rule?”

You sniffled, like a child, tears streaming down your flushed scarlet cheeks. “I—I’m sorry, didn't mean to.. I-I swear.”

Aemond pulled you up towards the bed, standing up and tossing you over the mattress. His softened cock regained its stamina, hardening again, swaying side to side and your eyes widened. Grabbing you by your ankle, he pulled you towards the edge of the bed and then brought his boot up, pressing it against your ankle. Hard enough to make you feel pain but gentle enough to not break your ankle.

“I could have anyone, anyone in this entire city.” He said, narrowed gaze focused. “But I chose you. You should be worshipping me, licking my fucking boots.”

You sniffled, as he pushed apart your thighs and ripped at the pathetic excuse you wore for panties. The fabric was flimsy and he tossed the tattered pieces aside. Aemond spread apart your pink glistening folds with his thumbs, revealing your little wet hole and your clit hidden beneath its hood. He loved eating you out, making you cum over and over again with his tongue.

But not now, you didn't deserve to have his tongue in your cunt after what you'd done.

So he aligned his cock with your hole, and watched as his swollen head breached your hole. Your cunt immediately squeezed around him with wanton, desperation and excitement causing him to chuckle. “God, you're so desperate. Even after I humiliated you, your little cunt clings on to me with such need.”

You look up at him, baffled by his humiliation as this was a side you never thought existed to someone like him. You'd always assumed him to be a kind introvert who somehow found you pretty and decided to provide.

This was different.

It terrified you as he glared down at you, eyebrows furrowed and pupil dilated. Due to the perspiration, his silver hair clung to his forehead and you swallowed.

In one single hit, Aemond nestled his cock deep inside your cunt and buried himself to the hilt. Your saliva around his cock had lubed it enough for him to be able to glide easily within your suffocating walls. “Fuck, I love this tight little cunt.” He growled, holding your thighs apart, a tight bruising grip leading you to cry out.

Tears spilled as you felt your pussy struggle to accommodate to his size. It wasn't the first time he'd fucked you but everytime he did, you felt like you were being split open by his thick hot cock. It felt good but also hurt and you arched your back, bucking your hips up.

Aemond slammed your hips down, taking you into a mating press position causing you to wail out as he drove deeper. Legs over his shoulders almost, his chest fully pressed against yours, his cock reaching your womb with his position. “Please, please—”

“Shut your damn mouth,” Aemond snapped, smacking you across the cheek as he began to thrust.

His cock slammed in and out of you, leaving you crying and sobbing. Your tits bouncing with each thrust, leaving you completely feeling like some porn star. He'd never taken you like this, with such humiliation and you tried to bury your face in his chest.

Aemond growled, enjoying each and every moment of your sopping wet heat engulfed around him, clamping down hungrily. His hand flew to your stomach, being able to feel his cock bulge against it and the fact that he was so deep inside you lead his balls to draw up tight. Hot and throbbing.

As his curved tip hit your sweet spot, your back arched and you cried out. “Right there, please right there!”

Aemond chuckled, darkly as he began to hit that same spot over and over again. The coil in your stomach which tethered on the edge of snapping finally did snap, falling off and your cunt squeezed him in. Gushing everywhere, making a mess and spraying him wet in your liquids. It didn't matter to him as he continued pounding into you, the headboard of the bed creaking violently from the sheer force of his hard thrusts.

“Stop, I-I can't.” You sobbed, saliva mixing in with tears rolling down your chin.

Aemond’s hand moved to your throat, wrapping around it. He pushed forward and choked you, tightening it to the point your eyes rolled back to your head. His cock pulsated within your velvety soaked walls and you grew sensitive around him, hips twitching and writhing. Thighs convulsing and body completely spent.

“Tell me I own you,” Aemond’s grip tightened, cutting off your air supply. “Tell me before I choke you unconscious.”

Your eyes opened and you looked at him, blinking away the tears. “You—You own me, own me, Aemond.” Your words were slightly coherent but satisfying enough for him.

You'd expected him to let go but the man squeezed harder, applying pressure on your throat and right when you saw random objects in your peripheral vision, he released you and pulled his cock out of you with a wet, suckling pop.

You'd assumed he was done.

But a tight slap to your swollen cunt awakened you, a wave of electricity jolting through you.

“Ride my cock,” Aemond said, already laying against the headboard. With a sniffle and more tears spilling, you crawled over to him weakly with a twitching pussy and straddled him.

Aemond had one hand behind his head while he watched you, struggling to align his slippery cock with your hole but soon, you succeeded. As you sunk down, your back arched and head turned back, hips meeting his thighs. His cock was thick but it was more longer than it was thick, stuffing you so nicely.

Your toes were pushed on the mattress as you began to ride him, bouncing up and down like some sex doll made for him. Aemond watched with a hungry gaze, finding satisfaction in how humiliated you appeared in front of him. “Bounce harder, slut. I've taught you better than this.”

Your small hands moved on his chest for support, as you impaled yourself on his length, bouncing with more vigor. Your face was flushed, drenched in sweat and tears as you bounced and bounced with all your strength.

“Who's credit cards do you use for for shopping, baby?” He asked, mockingly.

Your lips were parted open, making way for needy whimpers. “Y-Yours.”

Aemond nodded and grinned at you, a sadistic grin. “Then who's cock should you be bouncing on, who's calls and texts you shouldn't ignore?”

“Yours.” You sobbed, hips meeting his in a loud slap each time you bounced. His hands found your waist, lifting you up with great ease and holding you in the air as he began to thrust upwards, pummeling his cock into your slick heat.

The room was filled with the obscene wet sounds of your squelching pussy, each time he thrusted upwards. Your thighs shuddered, hips twitching, blood pumping fiercely and heart pounding.

Another orgasm was near, another need to burst open.

“Please, gonna cum, gonna cum again.” Your nails dug into his chest, the second impending climax much more powerful and overwhelming than the first one.

Aemond grabbed your hair, pulling it and baring your neck to him. He leaned forward and sunk his teeth into you, biting you down like some beast as his cock continued its violent abuse. You tightened around him, squeezing him in and then you came once more, making a mess everywhere. Your walls had grown extremely sensitive and you couldn't take anymore.

Eyes rolling back to your head, nails leaving crescent moons on his chest, you emptied out over his thighs. “Too much, too much! Please stop, don't wanna!”

But Aemond didn't listen. His own balls throbbed and the delicious squeeze of your hot pussy made him hiss. Teeth nibbling on your skin, he spilled his seed into you, rope after rope filling your womb up. “Yeah, take it. Take it, slut. Take my fucking cum and suck it in your tight little womb.” Shooting again and again until he too was spent and drained. You both collapsed on the bed, your face meeting his chest.

For a moment only the sounds of your low whines and his ragged breathing could be heard in the room. Your body throbbed in pain from how brutally he'd taken you but at least now you'd find peace, be allowed to fall asleep.

Too bad.

“I'm not done with you, pretty girl.” Aemond whispered in your ear and after a couple of minutes, you felt his cock harden again.

Just how much stamina did he physically possess?

[humanpurposes]

Hi hiiii I couldn’t resist to not slide into your inbox and request a Christmas fic based on this prompt with a Aemond who isn’t used to his girl’s flirty behavior and gets flustered soo easily👀 you can totally ignore this if you don’t like it<3333

“Since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?” “Sorry, what?”

HI RUE ✨ Kinda put my own spin on this but I'm sure you'll love it <3

Can I Ride You Instead?

modern!Aemond x reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, Aemond being a workaholic while his girl has needs

A/n: It's tiiiiime, happy 1st December!!

Main Masterlist // Christmas Masterlist

One more night in King’s Landing. You look out from the window at the lights in the city; street lamps; lively pubs; offices that have been abandoned until new year; and all the festive lights lining the highstreets. Conquest Street is your favourite place to be this time of year. You love the displays in the shop windows, the market in the square, the little wooden huts selling scarves and handmade jewellery, the smell of mulled wine, sugar and cinnamon, almost tangible in your nose and on your tongue. What you wouldn’t give to be there right now.

Aemond’s apartment is bleak by comparison. He doesn’t see the point in decorations, not when he’ll be spending Christmas at his family’s estate– at Dragonstone, Christmas is Alicent’s territory. Aemond’s place is clean, lit by lowlights with no bursts of colour or fairy lights and no tree.

He’s sitting at the dining table. The cold glare of his laptop shines over his face and reflects in the lenses of his glasses.

This boy never takes a break.

Term technically doesn’t end until tomorrow but everyone you know has already gone home to make the most of the break. Not Aemond. He wants to stay for as long as possible. He doesn’t talk about his family much, but you can put pieces together. You booked your own train ticket home according to his because you could think of nothing worse than leaving him alone on the run up to Christmas.

“Sit down, you’re making me anxious,” Aemond says, not looking up from the screen.

He’s been on the verge of irritation all day. You’re in the kitchen trying to make hot chocolate? Too much noise, he says. You’re at the dining table wrapping presents for your parents? Too distracting.

You take slow steps across the floor, behind his chair, draping yourself over his shoulders. He’s working on some project for an internship and simultaneously trying to get ahead on the research for his dissertation.

You love how he looks when he’s focused, the frown that means he’s utterly absorbed in what he’s doing. It’s not quite so endearing when he could be focusing on you instead.

Your arms wrap around him. He pushes his glasses up and puts a hand over yours, a featherlight touch. You want more.

“It’s getting late you say,” letting your lips ghost over his temple.

“It’s not even six.”

“You should take a break. We could order food?”

“Yeah, when I’m done with this, I just need to–”

“Aemond.”

Your arms fall away from him and he looks up at you with a slow breath. His expression is soft, his eyes slightly hooded, his lips fallen. He knows he's upset you.

“Aemond, it’s our last night together before Christmas.”

He shuts the lid of his laptop and leaves his glasses on the table. As much as you love how he looks with them on, there’s something about the unobstructed view of his face that never fails to take your breath away. Especially his eyes, one blue, one glass and made to imitate a sapphire, framed in a neat scar running down the left side of his face, an injustice of childhood.

He leans forward, snaking his hands to your waist, pulling you in towards him. 

It’s an unfair move really. Suddenly all you want to do is run your fingers through his silver hair, tilt his chin up, hold his face in your hands.

“You’re right, darling,” he says, stroking his thumbs in circles where they fall against your belly. You feel the pressure of it through the knit jumper you wear. “Let’s go out. Pub? Restaurant? What’s the market thing on Conquest Street, didn’t you mention that a while ago?”

“It’s a bit late to go out now, I’d have to get ready.”

“We’ll stay in and watch a Christmas movie then, yeah?”

“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for something festive.”

He makes a quick face. Not that long ago you’d tried to get him to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and he was far from impressed. What horrors will you have in store for him next? “Whatever you want. I want whatever you want.”

You coax him to the sofa, big and plush and expensive. Aemond throws a blanket over the two of you and with a few taps of his phone arranges the food. Without much deliberation you put on Love Actually, meeting Aemond’s eye with a wide grin.

He hides his face in his hands but survives the ordeal.

By the time the credits are rolling it’s not particularly late, but you’re dreading the morning. You’ll have to wake up early, pack a bag, then you and Aemond will go to the train station together and go your separate ways until the new year. A whole two weeks apart.

You cozy up to him, breathe in the smell of his aftershave.

“What now, another film?” He asks, trying to find the remote.

Another idea pops into your head. “We could do something else?”

Aemond catches your eye, trying not to smile. “Now let me think, what else could we possibly do, hmm?” He’s awful at playing coy and has been since the moment you met him. He’s too observant, too intent on the details to play dumb.

“Well,” you say, tracing fingertips along the material of his sweats, over his thigh, “since it is the season, and I can’t ride Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?”

His mouth bursts into a messy smile. “Sorry, what?”

You mean to huff out of annoyance but it comes out like a laugh. “I’m trying to be cute!”

Aemond takes your chin in his fingers and your body freezes. “You really don’t need to try,” he says, and leans in to capture your lips with his.

The way Aemond kisses makes you melt every time. He’s slow and commanding, like he’s savouring every precious moment. His hands slide underneath your jumper, dragging along your skin to hold your waist. The promise of what will come next puts you on edge.

Sparse gasps for breath hum in the back of your throat. Aemond smiles against your lips and holds you tighter, dragging you to straddle his lap. He pulls away from your mouth, to your frustration, and places a wide palm at your navel, the waist of your jeans. “Stand up, need to get these off.”

You move off him and go to undo the top button, but Aemond grabs your wrists and pulls you closer. You watch as he smiles slightly, his fingers moving to undo the button and the zip. He’s teasing you, drawing out the anticipation as much as he can. 

You sigh in relief once they’re off, dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside and coming back to straddle Aemond. 

His hands settle at your thighs. “Look at you, so eager, hmm?”

“You can’t blame me, you’ve been ignoring me all day,” you say, grinding your clothed core against the bulge in his sweats. You can be teasing too, with drawn out movements of your hips.

Aemond’s jaw tightens. You can see he’s trying to stay smug. “Well, we’re fixing that now.”

You press a kiss to his cheek while your fingertips curl at the top of his sweats, dragging them down enough to free his cock. He’s taught you what he likes and if you were feeling patient you might have come to your knees before him, but at the slightest touch of Aemond’s fingertips against the fabric over your clit, you know what you need.

He pulls your panties to the side, dragging you along his leaking cock with a hand at your lower back. He’s hard and you’re achingly wet. He holds you where he wants you, lining himself up to pull you down onto his length. The stretch is sharp and sweet, hollowing you out and filling you perfectly. 

Aemond’s head falls against the back of the sofa as you sink down.

“Does it feel good?” you tease him.

He’s breathless, helplessly watching the space where your bodies meet. “Fuck, perfect little pussy– feels so good,”

You cradle your arms around his head as you ride him, unhurried, hands restless as you feel his hair and the sides of his face, along his jaw.

Aemond hardly has to do anything, as soon as his fingertips are on your clit you feel your spine straighten and something inside you tighten. He circles over you lazily, watching your face with a soft, admiring kind of amusement. 

“Right there,” you whisper, “don’t fucking stop.”

“Are you gonna come for me, darling?”

Your thighs are burning at the effort but you don’t care. You’re so close, so close.

“Beg me,” Aemond murmurs.

A slew of slurred and breathless pleas fall from your lips. You can feel the slickness between your legs, how easily he glides over you, how deep his cock reaches inside of you, pushing against the right spot.

Aemond hums as he grabs your hips with his free hand, fucking you faster and harder until you’re falling apart, convulsing, melting. 

You fall against Aemond, holding each other closer as you wait for the deliriousness to fade away. Suddenly the air is unbearably cold. You cling to Aemond, to his warmth, content in his arms.

“Happy with your ride?” Aemond asks. You can hear him grinning.

You lift your head and rest it against his shoulder. The light of the TV catches in his features, his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, the details of grey in his right eye and the unnatural bright blue of his left.

“Can I go again?”

Aemond leans into you, pressing his nose against yours. “You can ride me as many times as you want, darling.”

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[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Serial Killer Aegon x Victim Reader

Summary: you just wanted to enjoy the night with your best friend and getting fucked. But what was waiting for you was much more scary than anything you had ever expected...

Warning: kidnapping, blood, abuse, unwanted touch, murder.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Original Gif by @lady-alicent ♡

The mirror gleamed back at Y/N as she carefully applied the finishing touches to her makeup, the sleek red dress clinging to her curves in all the right ways. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the silky strands catching the light of the vanity. Tonight, she was going to be unstoppable. On speaker, her best friend Emily's voice filled the room, excitement buzzing between them as they planned their night out.

"Girl, I swear, tonight's the night. I will get laid" Emily laughed, the sound infectious, pulling a giggle from Y/N.

"Are you sure, though? You've been talking about this for weeks. Are you finally going to get with Tom?" Y/N teased, brushing some highlighter across her cheekbones.

"Hell yeah! I'm gonna fuck his brains out!" Emily declared dramatically, causing both of them to erupt into laughter. "But what about you? Don't think I didn't see how Oliver was staring at you last time. That man is ready to risk it all."

Y/N smirked, lining her lips with a deep crimson. "Oh, Oliver won't know what hit him tonight" she winked at herself in the mirror, confident. "By the end of this party, he's going to be begging."

Emily cackled, making another inappropriate joke that had Y/N snorting, her mascara brush shaking slightly in her hand. "God, Emily, you're gonna make me mess up my makeup."

"I cant help it, you're gonna make himー"

Suddenly, Y/N froze mid-laugh. In the corner of her eye, she caught something ーa shadow shiftingby the window, just out of her line of sight. Her heart skipped, an eerie prickle crawling up her spine.

"What's wrong?" Emily's voice came through the phone, concern creeping into her playful tone.

Y/N blinked, her eyes darting around the room. Everything was still. Quiet. The only sound was Emily's distant voice on the phone. She let out a breath, forcing smile as if it could push away the unease settling in her gut. "Nothing, I just thought I saw something."

"Probably just your nerves. You've got Oliver on the brain too much!" Emily teased, bringing the conversation back to its lightheartedness.

"Yeah, you're right," Y/N muttered, trying to shake off the strange feeling. She continued applying her makeup, but every now and then, her gaze flicked back to the window. That uneasy chill hadn't left, a quiet whisper in her mind that something wasn't quite right. But it was probably nothing.

At least, that's what she told herself.

The night was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim glow of Y/N’s headlights as they cut through the lonely, desolate road. Trees stretched out on either side, their branches twisting together to form a canopy of shadows. The once lively conversation with Emily had died down to a nervous exchange of directions as Y/N found herself completely lost in the maze of unfamiliar back roads.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Y/N asked, her voice tight with frustration, gripping the wheel a little too hard. The GPS had stopped working a while ago, leaving her utterly reliant on Emily’s instructions.

“I swear, Y/N, it’s the right way! Just keep going straight, and you’ll see a sign soon, I promise,” Emily’s voice reassured her, though it did little to calm the rising anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Straight. That’s all she had to do. But the road seemed endless, stretching out in front of her like a void, each passing second growing thicker with unease. Y/N glanced around, her stomach flipping as the dark woods loomed over her. It felt like something was watching from the trees.

"Emily, I don’t see anything—" Y/N began, but her words were cut off in a scream as a figure suddenly appeared from the darkness, leaping in front of her car.

THUD.

The impact jolted her entire body forward, the screech of brakes cutting through the stillness as the car skidded to a halt. Y/N’s heart was racing, pounding so hard she could barely breathe. The world outside was silent again, but the deafening thud of the hit echoed in her ears, over and over.

“Y/N? Y/N! What the hell just happened?!” Emily’s voice was frantic, but Y/N barely heard her.

She stared ahead, wide-eyed, her hands trembling on the wheel. What just happened? Did I hit him? Did I just… kill someone?

Her throat was dry as she swallowed, trying to steady herself. "I… I think I hit someone. I’m not sure." Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.

“What?! Are you okay?! What happened?” Emily’s voice was nearly drowned out by the ringing in Y/N’s ears, her panic rising with every passing second. Y/N’s hands moved to unbuckle her seatbelt, her body feeling as if it was moving on autopilot. "I need to check. I’ll call you back."

“What? No, wait—” Y/N hung up, her mind spinning with terror as she opened the door and stepped out into the suffocating darkness. The wind was cool, but her skin prickled with cold sweat. The night was unnaturally quiet, save for the rapid beating of her heart in her ears.

Her eyes landed on the crumpled figure lying in the road just ahead, and her stomach lurched. She could barely see him in the dim light of her car’s headlights, his body twisted at an unnatural angle. Every instinct screamed for her to run, but her feet moved forward, her breath shallow.

She knelt beside the man, her hands trembling as she reached out. "Hey… Hey, are you okay?" Her voice cracked, almost pleading. She shook his shoulder gently, her breath catching in her throat. Please don’t be dead. Please, God, don’t be dead.

He didn’t respond, his body limp. Y/N’s heart plummeted. For a horrifying moment, she thought she’d killed him. I hit him, I really hit him. What if he’s dead? What if I—

But then she noticed it—his chest, rising and falling slowly. He was still breathing.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief crashing over her. "Oh, thank God…" she muttered, her hands moving to check for any sign of consciousness. "Hey, can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, I’ll get you help. Just hang on."

Her voice was trembling as she stood, rushing back to the car to grab her phone. Her hands fumbled with the door handle, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to call for help. Get him to the hospital.

But just as she reached into the car for her phone, something hard and solid slammed into the back of her head.

Pain exploded through her skull, white-hot and blinding. Her vision blurred instantly, the world spinning as her body crumpled to the ground. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening, but all she could register was the unbearable, crushing pain.

She tried to blink away the darkness closing in around her, her breaths ragged and desperate, but the force of the blow had knocked her senses loose. Through the dizzy haze, she saw him—the man she had just hit, standing above her with a rock in his hand. The sickening realization crashed into her like a freight train.

It was a trap.

Her heart raced, adrenaline surging through her, but her limbs felt heavy, numb. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her vision was dimming, the pain dragging her under. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the man’s cold, emotionless face, looming over her as she slipped into the abyss.

Y/N's consciousness flickered like a dying flame, dragging her unwillingly from the void. The pain in her head was the first thing she registered-an unbearable, spliting agony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat, making her feel like her skull was about to crack open. She groaned, but the sound came out muffled, trapped behind something in her mouth. Panic started to set in as she realized she couldn't open her jaw; the taste of dirty fabric filled her mouth. A gag.

Disoriented, she blinked slowly, trying to make sense of where she was. Her vision was blurry, her surroundings a nauseating haze of darkness and shadow. Everything reeked. The stench hit her all at once- thick, putrid, suffocating. It was a mix of urine, sweat, blood, and something far more decayed. The smell clawed at the back of her throat, making her gag against the cloth. She fought back the urge to vomit, knowing it would only choke her.

Her body felt... wrong. Heavy. Aching. Every muscle was sore, every inch of her skin stung with a dull, throbbing pain. When she tried to move, she realized why: she was tied up. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, the coarse rope biting into her wrists and cutting off circulation. Her legs were bound too, her ankles tied together so tightly she could barely wiggle her toes.

Where the hell am I? The last thing she remembered was... the man. The man she had hit. Her heart jumped into her throat, the memory rushing back to her all at once一the impact, the body on the road, the moment of relief when she realized he was still breathing. And then... then he had attacked her. Everything went black after that. And now I'm here.

Her breath quickened as she took in her surroundings. The room was small, cramped, with walls so grimy she could barely tell their original color. Blood smeared the walls in splatters and streaks, both fresh and old, the sickening reminder of whatever horrors had taken place here before. There were stains on the floor, dark, sticky patches that made her skin crawl. And then she noticed the other things一flesh, torn and hanging like trophies from hooks. Bones, carelessly strewn on the floor, cracked and splintered. She wanted to scream, but the gag silenced her, the terror building in her chest until it felt like she might suffocate on it.

But she wasn't alone.

In the dim light, she saw them-other women. At least five of them, maybe more. All of them were bound like her, gagged, naked, their bodies bruised and filthy. Some of them were barely conscious, their heads lolling weakly, while others stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. There was something about their expressions that sent ice shooting down her spine-those hollow, desperate eyes, like animals resigned to their fate.

One of them, a woman with tear-streaked cheeks and a gag so tight it had rubbed her mouth raw, met Y/N's gaze. She shook her head slowly, almost imperceptibly, her eyes full of warning. It was as if she was trying to tell her something, something Y/N didn't yet understand. Don't move. Don't fight. Don't make a sound.

But Y/N wasn't like them. She couldn't just sit here and wait to die. Fear surged through her veins, but so did adrenaline. She had to get out. I have to get out.

Slowly, carefully, she began to squirm, trying to shift her weight without making too much noise. Every movement was agonyーher wrists felt like they were being sliced open by the ropes, and her muscles screamed in protest. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. If she stayed here, she was dead.

As she inched her way toward the door, the other women watched her, their eyes filling with fresh tears, their bodies trembling as they silently begged her stop. But she couldn't stop. She had to get free. She had to.

The closer she got to the door, the more hope flickered inside her-until she fell. Her hands slipped, and her body hit the floor with a dull thud. She landed in something wet and slimy, the smell assaulting her senses immediately. It was a disgusting mix of rotting food, excrement, and something else- something thick and foul that clung to her skin and made her gag. Her stomach churned violently, the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, focusing on the door just a few feet away.

But then the door creaked open.

The sound was slow, deliberate, and it filled the room like a death knell, Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest, her body tensing as the dim light from the hall spilled into the room.

He stepped inside.

The man. The same man she had hit with her car. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette tall and menacing, his face twisted into a sickening grin. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Y/N, his expression darkened. Rage boiled just beneath the surface of his face, twisting his features into something monstrous.

"What do we have here?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

Before Y/N could even try to scramble away, he was on her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up, dragging her across the filthy floor as she screamed against the gag. Pain shot through her scalp, white-hot and unbearable, but the terror that gripped her heart was even worse. He was going to kill her. He was going to kill her right now.

"You stupid, stupid girl" he hissed, his voice thick with venom as he dragged her back to where she'd been. "You thought you could just leave? You thought you could escape?" He threw her down onto the cold floor, kicking her hard in the stomach for good measure.

The breath was knocked from her lungs, and for a moment, everything went dark. She gasped for air, her body convulsing in pain, but she couldn't get enough oxygen. Her vision blurred, her mind spinning with fear and panic. This is it. I'm going to die.

"You should be thankful l'm not going to punish you further;" he spat, kneeling down beside her, his breath hot and rancid against her face. "You're new. I'm feeling generous today."

Y/N's body shook uncontrollably as she lay there, too weak and terrified to move. But then, just as quickly as the anger had come, his expression changed. The rage melted away, replaced by something far more sinister. His hand, still tangled in her hair, began to stroke her scalp gently, his voice softening as if he hadn't just brutalized her.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his tone dripping with faux concern. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You just made me so... angry. it's your fault, you know? If you hadn't tried to leave.." His fingers trailed down her neck, his touch lingering on her skin as he murmured, "You're so beautiful. So.. perfect."

"Soft," he murmured, as though admiring the texture of fabric instead of skin. He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in her hair, his breath warm and sickening against her skin. "You smell so good... You're going to make the perfect doll."

Y/N's mind spun with confusion and horror. Doll? What did that mean? She wanted to scream, to thrash and fight, but her body felt like it was frozen, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion. Her tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks as she trembled beneath his touch.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as his hand slid lower, caressing her naked body with possessive, almost reverent strokes. His fingers traced the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. He was taking his time, savoring the touch, the control, the power. Y/N felt sick, her stomach twisting in knots as she lay there, helpless, her mind screaming for it to stop. But she couldn't Scream. She couldn't move.

"You're going to be perfect" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just... perfect."

She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never exist again. But all she could do was lie there, paralyzed by fear and disgust, as he continued to touch her. His hands roamed over her body, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. Every touch felt like fire, burning into her flesh, marking her. She could feel his excitement, his anticipation, and it made her want to vomit.

Then, suddenly, he stood up.

“Not today" he said, smiling down at her with a look of twisted affection. "Today isn't your day."

Y/N's stomach lurched as she realized what he meant. Not her day. But soon. Her tears blurred her vision, her entire body shaking uncontrollably as she tried to scream through the gag. She couldn't stop the sob that broke through, muffled but desperate.

He laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face with a gentleness that felt like a mockery of kindness. "Shhh" he cooed, "don't cry. You'll ruin your pretty face. And I love your face."

Before she knows it, the man turned his attention to one of the other women-a blonde who had been sitting silently in the corner, her eyes wide with terror. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet with a sickening cruelty. The woman's body convulsed in terror, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a muffled scream behind her gag.

She struggled weakly, her limbs trembling, but it was no use. He dragged her toward the door, pulling her like a rag doll, her body limp with fear. She was looking at her. Like a lamb. Wide eyes. Begging for help. But Y/N couldn't do anything.

Y/N watched in horror as the door slammed shut behind them. The remaining women in the room sobbed softly, the sound of their crying mixing with Y/N's own frantic breaths.

Then the noise began.

The sound of metal on flesh, a sharp, wet thwack followed by a crunch that made Y/N's blood run cold. The woman's faint cries echoed through the walls, but they were quickly drowned out by the sickening sound of the ax splitting flesh and bone. The rhythm was steady, methodical, like someone chopping wood ーonly it wasn't wood. lt was human.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was wait, knowing that soon... it would be her turn.

Should I make a part 2?

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

[fayesia]

Freak

Martin (In The Modern World - Fontaines D.C.)

warnings: nsfw 18+, readers lowkey mean to Martin, p in v, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, doggy style, handjob, squirting, fingering, spit play, creampie, hair pulling, rimming (brief), p with a little plot, filthy words on a screen :D

You were always cautious. Walking the same route home. Past the cobbled roads, the dark forested pine trees, and old abandoned buildings. None screamed safety nor comfort, neither of which you expected when moving into the area.

As long a you were free. Successfully escaping the pressures in your life, the heavy weight of hands pressing and pulling you, moulding you, into what they wanted you to become.

So, yes, maybe walking the same route every day to get home wasn't ideal. But neither was the sight you had to witness as you walked across the parking lot in front of your house. The car parked in it. The only car.

In it was him. Your neighbour. That freak. That beautiful fucking freak. A man clambered out, shoving the passenger door open while blood ran from his nose and mouth. His neck marked with ligatures of varying pink and red hues. Pushing past the small crowd forming he briskly stumbled away, the crowd shifting as people left and newcomers joined.

You know you should've kept walking, walking the same damn route, but you didn't. What's that's saying? Curiosity killed the cat. Well, consider yourself the cat.

Making your way over to the edge of the crowd, you stood watching, keeping at least a meter distance so as not to draw attention. His head turned to the window, the side one facing you. His mouth dropped open to reveal a blue stained tongue. Freak. You grimaced. Yet your eyes were unable to remove themselves from the sight in front of you. Your legs were stuck, glued to the cement, your brain ordered them to move, but no movement was made.

Your eyes focused on the scene in front of you, snapping you out of your disassociation, the shuffling of the crowd parting ways. Boys rode off on their bikes, women clutched their bags whispering with one another, and hooker resembling teenagers scoffed sauntering off, losing interest at the dark-haired man in the car.

The very one slumped in the car seat, heavily battered and bloodied as well as unconscious.

You turned to leave, taking two steps before swivelling back on your heels. You stood considering for a few moments the result of what your actions may cause. If the butterfly affect would, in fact, impact what was to happen due to your next decision. Well fuck that, you don't really care about the result of your actions, at least not since you moved here.

Pulling the drivers side door open, you leaned in, tentatively you waved your hand across his face. Was he awake yet? No.

Fuck. Well then. Poking him didn't work either. Grabbing his shoulders, you leaned closer.

"Martin. Martin. Wake up, Martin!"

He grumbled, regaining consciousness, but also the from the pain of his injuries. Pulling him up from the seat, a task proven easier than expected due to his thin build. It suited him. In his own way. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, you hauled him the short walk to your house beside his. The height difference made it more a half drag on his part. You spoke in hopes of providing some comfort.

"Nearly there, Martin. Nearly home."

You didn't really like the freak, but you weren't a heartless human. His reptiles had escaped to your garden more times than he'd like to take responsibility for, and so had his toy helicopter. Resulting in more hostile neighbourly conversations between the both of you than you'd have liked, considering the majority of them happened at 2am, when he was normally awake.

Unlocking the front door, you manoeuvred Martin's flopping body onto a kitchen chair, dragging it across the floor with a loud screech that jolted him awake.

"What are you doing?"

"Calm down. I'm just trying to help. Now sit still."

You didn't mind the silence, wetting some paper towels with rubbing alcohol as you gently wiped the blood and grime off his pasty white skin. The kitchen was filled by the low hum of your broken refrigerator and the hisses coming from Martin's mouth with every swipe against his skin. His eyes followed you, throwing away the dirty tissues and packing up the first aid kit, placing it in the cupboard before making your way back to the sink.

Stood across from the seated Martin he looked up, shifting in his seat with a pink hue dusted over his cheeks.

"Guess I should go then."

"Umm yeah, let me see you out."

You both walk to the door in silence until his voice scratches out down the hallway.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen my snake have you...I left the side window open again...you know-uhm the one across from your garden."

"Again! Seriously! How many times have I told you. I don't want to see that creepy snake in my garden. What if it bites me -"

"Hey! He's friendly."

"No, i doubt that. It's probably a freak. Like you!"

He angered at your words harshly shoving you against the hallways narrow walls. There was barely any space for two people to walk, so being pinned left you feeling even more trapped. It was like the temperature had increased ten fold, your eyes widened at the close proximity between the two of you. He breath was hot and heavy against the side of your face, daring you to keep talking, but you knew better, rather content with glaring at him.

His fingers dug past the material of your faux fur coat while yours held tightly on his forearms. The silence seemed to drag on with the two of you looking into each others eyes. But it was more than that, both looking past each others iris, the pupils and the nerves, looking into each others souls.

And then he kissed you. Just like that.

His lips were on yours, and you could taste the distinctive artificial flavoured candy only just overpowered by the cigarette he must've smoked earlier.

It was suffocating and comforting. Yet freeing and ferocious. As if you had finally given into a craving after so long, like you were sinning after years of celibacy.

Your hands grappled at each other clothes, needing to remove the thick confines you were in. Various articles of clothing littered the hallway, creating a breadcrumb trail to your bedroom. His hands dug into your hair, only deepening the kiss once you were straddling his lap on your bed. Oxygen wasn't a necessity in this moment. It was the taste of each other that you both were surviving off of.

Discarding your bra, Martin removed his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. He positioned you on all fours facing away. Cold, long fingers dragged your panties off you, and you were bare to him, no feeling of shame, just need, as your arch deepened. His hand caressed the path of your spine where he lay gentle kisses, kneeling behind you, he played with the softness of your thighs and hips. The silent room was now filled by your whines of pleasure.

His mouth was on you, exploring every part of you, tasting and savouring you like it was his last meal. His tongue traced from your leaking hole down to your clit where his lips suckled more noises from you. He brought two fingers to your cunt, spreading your folds as his tongue moved through the mess of your juices and his spit, only spreading it down your inner thighs. You pressed back against Martin's face, moaning out in pleasure but his hands hooked around your thighs holding you in place while his mouth worked on you.

You were so close. "Fuck yes just like that, I'm gonna fucking come don't stop- don't you dare fucking stop."

Your words only spurred Martin on, his thumb prodded at your hole wetting it with a mix of fluids before unexpectedly moving it to your tighter hole above. The action drawing out even louder noises from you. He smiled at that and you could feel the change of expression against your pussy. "Come for me."

You didn't need asking twice, clenching the bedsheets you whined into them, your cunt gushing around Martin's tongue and drenching the bottom half of his face. Small droplets ran down his chest as you fell flat against the mattress, angling your head to see a smiling Martin.

God, what a freak.

But you thought it with a small smile this time.

One that was covered by Martin's lips once again, his body embraced yours. You tugged at his boxers, and he pulled them off barely separating from you before leaning his head back to groan up at the ceiling. Your hand wrapped tightly around his cock. It fit comfortably in your hand, what lacked in girth was made up by length.

He thrust into your hand, jerking to feel more stimulation from you, which you were sure to provide. You were comfortably laying with his cock in your hand, his hand moving to separate your thighs, leaving you open to him. His hand coming down to explore your pussy while your hand continued working on him. Entering two of his fingers you arched at the movements, your own fingers were not of the same length or thickness. Moaning out, Martin was kneeling beside you, your hand jerking him off as his fingers worked in and out of you, his thumb occasionally rubbing against your clit.

It was art. The type the Greeks would've painted. The type found in the Renaissance era.

Pure pleasure and carnal desire.

You felt your release nearing, but when Martin twitched in your hand, he removed his fingers and moved. You huffed in annoyance about to speak your mind, but his hands grabbed your body, quickly flipping you over, the same way he did to the men in that car.

Pulling your hips up and pushing your back down, you were in the same arched position as before. He breathed heavily, almost hesitant, but the teasing movement of your ass was almost too much for him to bear. Holding his cock he spat onto your cunt as he pushed the leaking tip through your folds, only further adding to the mess of your pussy.

The tightness wrapped around his cock, almost pushing him out, but the further he entered, the more your cunt sucked him in.

The two of you made noises that bounced off the walls and were certainly heard from outside your window, neither you could give less of a fuck though. His hand clutched your hair while the other guided your hips back against him with each thrust. There was nothing gentle about his movements but that only made you crave more, the feeling of his cock entering you roughly with each movement had you releasing more liquid along the length of him. It collected around the base of his cock making his movements pass easier.

He hauled you up by your hair, his front pressed against your back, his lips against your ear, licking and nipping at the soft flesh. Bringing your hands up to his head, you pulled him into a kiss. Your fingers ran through his slightly greasy hair, the black soft locks tightly wrapped around your fingers while his tongue explored your mouth.

The change of position only prompted his dick to reach even deeper inside of you. Your moans increased while his hands moved around your body, first around your throat, then down to your tits where he roughly grabbed at them and pulled at your nipples, finally coming down to your clit where his fingers rubbed harshly, spreading more of your wetness around.

That was your breaking point. Your hands reached for anything to hold onto, which was Martin's forearm. Your sharp nails dug harshly into his skin, marking it with red crescent shapes, and his dick pummeled harder into you. The both of you were nearing release. Whispering into your ear, he urged you,

"Come for me. Come around my cock, wanna feel you fuckin' tighten your pussy 'round me."

And so you did.

With a few more thrusts into you, he bottomed out as you threw your head back, moaning Martians name. You doubt he would realise with how much noise it was said with.

But he did. He relished in it.

He'd go so far to believe its what made him cum as quick as he did after you. Still deep in you his cock released his cum, with near animalistic groans and arms that embraced you tightly, willing to never let go.

The thick liquid collected inside you and as his now soft dick was pulled out you could feel it drip out between your thighs, his face nuzzled into the side of your neck as the two of your softly caught your breath, relishinng in the sex of pent up tension. The sheets now soiled by your choices. The result of angry words said in the flurry of an argument.

The consequence of fucking your freak neighbour.

[randomdragonfires]

in your car, i'm a star (and i'm burnin' through you)

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader Oneshot

A/N | Yes, I'm still alive. Please take... whatever this is. I started spitballing and two hours later, this happened. Not my best work, lots of plot holes - but hey, at least I remember how to write lol. This was just to get my inspiration back, somewhat. Now I'll go back into hiding.

WARNINGS | NONE. Just a tinge of angst if you squint and complicated family dynamics. Hurt/Comfort drabble, really.

SUMMARY | She knows him, she loves that she does. But does she know him, truly?

WORD COUNT | 2.6k

Inspired by Love Song, by Lana Del Rey.

She knows him—or at least, she thought she did.

She knows him in the way his lip twitches just so, that subtle gesture standing in for a smile. She knows him from the lazy trails his fingers leave on the fogged-up shower glass, the only trace of his presence after he’s gone. She knows the way he walks—calm, feline, serene; as though he owns the room.

She knows his quiet confidence, the understated arrogance. She notices the rhythmic drumming of his fingers against the table as he studies his laptop, sleeves haphazardly rolled up, veins faintly visible beneath his skin. She recognizes how his face stays controlled, concentrated, yet always seems at peace.

She treasures the small things—the jam jar he loosens for her when he knows he’ll be gone before she wakes; he knows she can’t open it herself. She loves the way she seeks his warmth even in sleep, instinctively curling toward him like a moth to flame.

She notices the thoughtful details—the way he sets her mug next to the kettle before he leaves for work, her favorite tea bag already waiting inside. How he leaves his book open to the page she stopped at, knowing she’ll steal it from his nightstand. How he never forgets to replace the batteries in the remote, even though she wouldn’t notice until they were completely dead.

She loves how he adjusts her seatbelt when she forgets, his fingers brushing hers in a wordless reminder. How he orders her fries because he knows she’ll inevitably steal his no matter what. The way he folds her blanket at the end of the couch, even though he pretends it annoys him when she leaves it there.

Or how he always picks up her jacket when she tosses it carelessly over a chair, hanging it up with a faint shake of his head. How he coils her phone charger neatly, even when she leaves it everywhere, and always makes sure to charge her headphones before long trips because she never remembers.

She loves Aemond for who he is. She sees him, appreciates him, loves him, knows him—

Or at least, she thought she did.

He should never have brought her here.

He’s known for some time now—perhaps too long—that this was a mistake. Things are too easy with her, too peaceful, and he’s grown dangerously accustomed to it. The quiet has become a refuge, and he’s taken it for granted, blind to its fragility until now.

He sees how she’s changed him. How the razor-sharp edge he’s carried for so long has dulled in her presence, as if she’s gently worn him down, one quiet moment at a time. The way his heart still jerks when someone taps his shoulder, but her touch—the warm, steady weight of her palm—grounds him instantly. He loves how the bed feels when she’s in it, her warmth a quiet anchor that tethers him to something real. He loves the little hearts she draws on the shower glass when she’s up before him. Does she know it matters? Something so small, so effortlessly delicate, yet it lingers with him long after she’s gone.

He loves the sight of her sprawled on his couch, lying on her stomach with her calves kicked up, grinning at him like his world is hers to brighten. He loves the mess she leaves behind—her makeup scattered across his vanity, evidence of her presence. The second toothbrush in the holder, now a permanent fixture, though the thought of it being gone fills him with a dread he can’t quite name.

Her touch steadies him. Her voice slows him. Her presence halts the chaos of his world, if only for a brief moment, long enough for him to feel like he’s actually a part of it.

And now, she will leave. She’s seen him for what he truly is—the cracks beneath the surface, the brokenness he’s kept hidden for so long. She will leave.

She won’t be wrong to go. He wouldn’t stay either.

Going back home for Christmas is never something he looks forward to.

There are parts of it he likes, of course. He likes seeing his mother’s face light up when she greets him, the warmth in her smile wrapping around him like a blanket. He likes how Helaena beams at the thought of all her brothers being under the same roof again, her joy so pure and contagious it makes the house feel alive. He enjoys watching Criston ruffle Daeron’s hair as the younger one hunches over his notebook, too focused to care about the disruption. He loves watching Aegon embarrass himself with whatever woman he’s brought along for the season, loud and brash as always. Though he’d never admit it aloud—never—he sees himself in Aegon’s ridiculous gestures now that he has her. Aegon’s clumsy declarations of affection mirror his own, though his are quieter, subtler.

They’re all the same.

They’re all part of the same heart.

He likes who he is here, among the people who love him, who see him as something more than the jagged edges he keeps hidden from the world. He loves them back, fiercely, completely, in a way he rarely allows himself to feel.

This time, he brings her. Watching his mother embrace her with the same warmth she gave him fills him with something he can’t name. It’s as if his mother is returning a silent promise: Protect my son’s heart, and I will protect yours.

Criston’s approving smile lingers just behind them, and somehow, that quiet nod means more to him than any meeting with Viserys ever could. Helaena and Daeron whisk her away to explore the grounds, their easy chatter drawing her into their world effortlessly. Even Aegon, beer in hand, sides up to him with a mumbled, “She seems nice.” It’s as close as Aegon will ever get to openly welcoming someone into the family. In that, the brothers have always been guarded - just in visibly different ways.

He likes this part of Christmas.

But then, his father arrives. And with him, his golden daughter and her brood—a procession that feels more like a parade of veiled insults and subtle power plays.

In that moment, he wishes he’d kept her safe, whisked her away back to their flat, hidden her from the storm brewing on the horizon. Before Luke exposes him for who he truly is.

It happens before he even realizes it.

The thread, stretched taut for hours under the weight of veiled insults and sharp-edged jabs, finally snaps. Perhaps it was always inevitable—a breaking point years in the making, woven into the fabric of that night long ago, the night that changed everything.

He hates that she’s part of this charade, this grotesque tradition where both branches of the family pretend they are whole. The sickly-sweet veneer of unity grates at him, and watching her navigate it with grace only makes it worse. She listens to Daemon with a polite smile, nodding at his barbed remarks as though they’re harmless. It churns his stomach, the way she must endure this ugliness with a dignity he doesn’t think he could ever match.

He doesn’t know what Luke says. He doesn’t catch the exact words or the smirk that accompanies them.

It doesn’t matter.

He hears the snigger, feels the sting of the unspoken, and the weight of years-old memories crashes down on him like a wave. The next thing he knows, he’s let go of her hand, the warmth of her touch gone as he rises from his chair.

The room blurs, but his target is clear. Jace is on the ground before he even registers the punch that put him there. Off to the side, he sees Aegon slam Luke into the table, their mother’s expensive centerpiece shattering under the force. Aegon doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t hold back—because once, long ago, he left Aemond to fight alone. The price for that mistake was written across Aemond’s face, a reminder neither of them could ever forget.

For a moment, the room is chaos. The cacophony of shouting and crashing fades into a dull roar as Daemon strides in, yanking them apart with a scowl that could burn through steel. Rhaenyra mutters something about being thankful their father has already gone to bed, sparing him the spectacle. Alicent clutches Criston’s hand tightly—an odd development, one that might have piqued Aemond’s curiosity in any other situation. Criston, ever composed, smirks faintly at the boys he helped raise - finally fighting side by side.

But none of it matters. None of it reaches him.

The loudest noise is the deafening silence of her presence. She stands frozen, her gaze locked on the floor, her hands clenched at her sides. For the first time since he met her a year ago, she refuses to meet his eyes.

Shame curls in his chest, threatening to consume him whole.

Hours later, as the dust settles, his mother pleads with him to stay the night. He shakes his head. He can’t. Staying here feels wrong, like prolonging the damage he’s already caused. He needs her back at the flat, where the world feels small and safe again, where her warmth in his arms drowns out the chaos his family always brings.

If, that is, the fragile peace he’s built isn’t already beyond repair.

When she wakes, his side of the bed is empty. The sheets are cold—he’s been gone for a while.

She pads through the flat, barefoot and quiet, her home now as much as his, even if she’s never said it out loud. The absence of him unsettles her, as does the memory of the man she saw last night. It wasn’t the Aemond she knew. It wasn’t the man she's come to love.

The Aemond she knows is gentle, deliberate. Even last night, after the chaos, he was careful as he tucked her into bed, his hand brushing through her hair with quiet apologies whispered between the spaces of her breath. His voice was soft, steady, soothing—enough to almost make her forget why they’d left Dragonstone earlier than planned.

Almost.

He rarely speaks of the other half of his family, and now, she understands why. Daemon’s sharp tongue had been enough to make her wince in a ten-minute conversation; the indifference his father showed in the face of his nephews' presence was stunning. She can only imagine the weight of years spent enduring that venom.

Perhaps Aemond keeps his silence not out of indifference, but out of necessity—to keep the anger locked away, to remain the man she fell in love with.

She tries calling him, but he doesn’t pick up. The unanswered ring unsettles her more than his absence.

Sighing, she heads to the kitchen. She begins to prepare breakfast, the motions familiar and grounding. Pancakes, eggs, sausages—things he likes. The onions sizzle in one pan while the eggs cook in another, the sounds filling the silence he left behind. She tries calling again, balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear as she chops, but the call goes unanswered once more.

She knows why. He’s ashamed. She’s always suspected there’s more anger in him than he lets her see. She’s wished, in quiet moments, that he’d let her see it—not to judge him, but to show him that it wouldn’t change how much she loves him.

The food is ready long before he returns, so she eats alone, the stillness pressing against her. On the coffee table sits the watch she’d bought for him, still in its elegant box. She hasn’t had the chance to give it to him yet.

After clearing the dishes, she leaves them in the sink, knowing the housemaid will handle them later. She moves to the sofa, hugging her knees to her chest as she waits.

And then, finally, the sound of keys in the door. The soft creak as it opens. Footsteps. He’s home.

And he brought coffee.

She stands as he enters, the sight of him both a relief and a quiet ache. She takes the cups from his hands, her fingers brushing his briefly. He still won’t meet her eyes. Placing the cups on the table, she takes his hand in hers, leading him to the sofa.

When he sits, she moves to straddle him, her knees on either side of him. She holds him close, until she is all he sees, all he feels, all he can think about.

Her lips find his forehead first, soft and lingering, as her arms wrap tightly around his torso. She holds on as though she’s anchoring him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. Slowly, she maps her way downward, each kiss deliberate, each touch an offering. His eyelids, his cheeks, his nose—she doesn’t stop until she finds his lips.

He smells of sweat, faint and earthy, and she remembers the perfectly placed shoes near the door. He’s been on a run, she realizes.

He’s been running, in more ways than one.

Her kisses shift, deeper now, but still tender. He responds slowly at first, his hands tentative on her hips before they find her back, pulling her closer. For a while, the world shrinks to just them—soft breaths, soft lips, soft touches. The tension in his shoulders begins to melt, his hand slipping up to cradle her neck as if grounding himself in her presence.

When the weight of the moment settles, he leans back, lying down with her beside him. She shifts to rest her head against his chest, her fingers idly tracing patterns over his t-shirt. His arm curls around her, holding her against him, as his lips press to the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, tinged with regret.

She lifts her head to look at him, her eyes soft, her voice softer still. “It’s alright. You’re so good to me…”

His expression shifts, something flickering in his steely, forever cautious gaze. She knows there’s more, an explanation forming behind his eyes.

But it can wait.

Right now, all she wants is for him to feel what she does. To know what she’s always known.

He’s home.

Moments pass, and he calms down again. Later, he murmurs.

“You should drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

She laughs, the sound light and easy, as she moves off him to pick up her cup. It’s a holiday drink—spiced, sweet, just how she likes it. He knows her well enough to bring her favorite, even when he’s apologizing for ruining the holidays this year. But as she takes a sip, she realizes all is not lost.

“I got you something,” she says, setting her cup down and reaching for the small box she left on the table.

Wordlessly, he takes it, his fingers brushing hers as he sits up beside her. She cups her coffee again, letting its warmth seep into her palms as she watches him open the gift.

The watch gleams under the soft morning light, the craftsmanship striking. He notices the details immediately, running his thumb over the smooth edge of the dial.

“Valyrian steel,” he says, his tone flat yet certain. It’s not a question—of course, he’d recognize his preferred metal. He always does. That’s who he is: the kind of man with a preferred metal, precise and particular in ways that often amuse her.

“I had it sourced from someone in imports,” she begins, her words spilling quickly, almost bashful. “The permits are hard to procure, and it took months—”

He stops her mid-sentence, pulling her into a hug. It’s sudden and firm, his arms wrapping around her in a way that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

“Don't leave,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice carrying an honesty that makes her chest tighten.

She smiles against his shoulder, her hands resting lightly on his back.

"I'm not going anywhere."

She knows him, and he loves that she does. And it truly is that simple.

[cowboybeepboop]

bae it’s me i need you to write a HOTD smut with Aemond so bad im going ferral im literally ovulating rn so bad pls 😔

Pairing: Modern Aemond x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: You’re Aemonds assistant whom he has a soft spot for.

Warnings: Office sex, unprotected, p in v sex, semi public, teasing, fingering.

a/n: I really hope you enjoy 🤒 there will in fact be a part 2 at some point 😝 So if anyone wants to be tagged in it let me know! And as always send any requests my way <3

Aemond Targaryen sat behind his large, oak desk, in the spacious and pristine office. He was quietly going over some paperwork, when the door to his office opened and you walked in.

The tall blonde man looked up from the paperwork, and his blue eye settled on you. He had gone through many assistants, but you had lasted longer than any of the others. Aemond was never sure if it was because you were good at your job, or if you simply had an unusually high tolerance for him.

“Good morning Sir, I know I’m late but-” you begin to try to explain yourself but he responds with a cold glare as he cuts you off.

Aemond set down the pen in his hand and looked at you sternly. He had a reputation for being a demanding and hard-to-please boss, and you were already behind schedule it seemed.

“Save your excuses,” he said in a clipped tone. “And tell me why you’re late.”

“Right, I’m late because there was a car crash on the freeway.” you clear your throat, gaze fixed on the wall behind him. “It won't happen again Sir, next time I’ll leave earlier.”

Aemond listened to your explanation, his expression flickering with a mixture of mild irritation and a hint of concern. He leaned back in his chair and scrutinized you for a moment.

"I'm glad you're unharmed," he said after a moment. "But punctuality is vital in this office." His gaze remained fixed on you, and there seemed to be something unspoken behind his words.

“Yes of course Sir,” you give him a soft smile, “Is there anything I can do or shall I wait at my desk until you need me?”

Aemond's eye flicked over your face as you smiled at him, and for a moment, a flicker of something akin to warmth was in his eye.

"You may wait at your desk," he said, his voice still cool but not as sharp as before. He picked up his pen again and returned to his paperwork, signaling your dismissal. As you headed back to your desk he glanced up and called after you. "Y/N."

“Sir?” you turn to face him, smoothing your skirt as you stand in front of him. Aemond looked at you for a moment, his gaze assessing.

"Close the door," he said, gesturing towards the door to his office. As the door clicked shut, the room suddenly felt more intimate. Aemond leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on you. "Come here," he said, beckoning you closer, his voice low and commanding.

You follow his demand, moving to his desk with swiftness. Aemond watched you approach, his eye never leaving your form. He studied you with an intensity that was almost palpable, his gaze flickering over your face and body as you stood in front of him.

"Closer," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Come stand in front of me, right in front of the desk. Facing me."

“Is everything alright Sir?” you question while moving exactly where he wants you.

He ignored your question for a moment, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned forward in his chair, his long fingers steepled beneath his chin as he studied you.

"I want to ask you a question," he said, his gaze fixed on your face. "And I want an honest answer. Can you do that?"

“Yes, of course I can.” you smile sweetly as you watch his expression.

Aemond watched you intently, his eye studying your features as he spoke. "How come none of my previous assistants lasted as long as you have?" He asked, his voice low and measured.

“Are you sure you want an honest answer?” Your tone is a soft question.

Aemond's smirk widened at your question, and he leaned back in his chair. "Of course," he said, his voice edged with a hint of challenge. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want an honest answer."

“Right, well.. I think you can be very difficult at times, you’re a very demanding boss, every little detail must be perfect, and most importantly the hours are a challenge. I never know when I’ll be going home for the night.” you chew on your bottom lip, hoping he won't fire you because of your explanation.

Aemond listened as you spoke, his smirk never leaving his face. He knew he was difficult to work for, and he had pushed many of his assistants to their limits. But he also couldn't help but be impressed by your brutally honest answer.

"Interesting," he said after a moment, his eye still fixed on you. "And yet you've lasted longer than any of the others. Why is that?"

“I understand the demand for timeliness and perfection, you’ve got a difficult job here, the fate of all our jobs rely on your ability to get things done correctly. The late hours don’t bother me much either… But I also really enjoy having a stable job.” your eyes fall on his smirk.

Aemond's smirk softened into a small smile as you spoke, surprised by not only your honesty but also your insight into his demands. He leaned forward in his chair again, his hands clasping together as he considered your words.

"So, you're telling me you understand my demands, don't mind the late hours, and enjoy having a stable job," he said, his voice almost teasing. He tilted his head slightly, a new gleam in his eye. "And how do you feel about me?"

“What about you, Sir?” your eyebrows furrow with your question.

Aemond leaned back in his chair again, his smirk returning. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his tone slightly amused. "You know what I meant. I'm your boss, after all."

The smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he went on. "I asked you a question. Do I scare you, irritate you, or do you find me tolerable? Be honest."

“To be entirely honest, you do scare me a little bit..” your gaze falls to the floor, your posture straightening with your admission.

Aemond watched you intently, his single eye studying you as you spoke. He could see the slight shift in your body language, the way you stiffened as you answered his question.

"Ah," he said, his voice soft, "So, a little fear. What about the other options? Do I irritate you?"

“Not particularly,” you glance back up at him. “But why are you asking so many questions this morning?”

Aemond let out a small, humorless chuckle, his eye sparkling with amusement. "I'm asking because I want to know," he said, his tone still soft.

He pushed away from his desk and stood, towering over you. He took a step closer to you, closing the small distance between you and the desk. His gaze was unwavering, and you could sense the slightest hint of danger in his voice.

"You're my assistant, after all. I have to ensure you at least tolerate me."

You back up, thighs pressing into the edge of his desk. “R-right, of course.” you take a shaky breath, eyes trained on his face.

Aemond chuckled again, a low, dark sound that echoed in the small space between you. He stepped even closer, until he was practically looming over you, his height and presence filling the room.

His eye flicked down to your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your breath hitched in your throat. As you pressed further back against the desk, backed into a corner, he took a step forward, his face inches from your own. "Am I making you nervous, Y/N?" he whispered, his voice like a serpent's whisper.

“You’re very close, Sir.” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut in response to his voice.

Aemond didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in even closer, his body mere inches from your own. He was so close you could feel his breath warm on your skin, his sheer size and presence making you feel suddenly small.

"And does that make you nervous?" he whispered again, his voice like a low rumble. His eye flicked over your face, taking in every twitch and shiver. "Or do you like it?"

“Am I still being honest?” you breathe out, voice barely a whisper. Aemond's smirk widened just a fraction at your question. He took another step forward, his body now pressed almost completely against yours, pinning you against the desk.

"Be brutally honest," he said, his voice low and commanding. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his touch burning through the fabric of your skirt. "I want the truth."

You gasp at the feeling of his fingers against you, “A little bit of both, Sir.” you open your eyes, having a sort of deer in headlights expression. Aemond chuckled again, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through you. He tightened his grip on your hip, his fingers digging ever so slightly into your skin, holding you in place.

"A little bit of both," he repeated slowly, letting the words roll off his tongue. He leaned in even closer, his face so close to yours that you could feel the heat from his body. "I... scare and arouse you," he said, his voice a dark whisper. "Is that right?"

“S-sir..” you practically moan, drinking in every shred of attention he’s giving you, unsure of how long it'll last.

Aemond's smirk became wider, his eye darkening as he watched you practically squirm in response to his touch. He moved impossibly closer, his body fully pinning you against the desk now, his grip on your hip tight and possessive.

"Ah, that's a lovely sound," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "Say my name, Y/N. I want to hear my name on your lips."

“Mr. Targaryen?” you question, your hand finally moving to touch his firm abdomen.

Aemond's smirk turned into a small smile when you dared to touch him. He took a sharp breath in as your hand made contact with his stomach, his muscles tensing under your touch.

He leaned in, his lips almost touching your ear as he spoke. "No," he growled, his voice low and sultry. "My first name."

“Aemond..” you murmur, body arching into his as his breath brushes your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Aemond, stop teasing me… please.”

Aemond chuckled again, the sound dark and seductive. He liked the way you said his name, the way your body responded to his every touch. He could feel you arch into him, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to just take you right then and there.

"Oh, Y/N," he whispered, his lips moving ever so closer to your skin. "You're such a mess just from a little teasing. Are you that desperate for my touch?" He guides you to sit on the desk in front of him, his legs going between your own.

You further spread them, giving him space to come even closer. “Sir, please.. Touch me please..” you whine, eyes desperate as you gaze up at him. Aemond watched as you settled on the desk, parting your legs for him without a single command. He leaned in, his body finally pressing against your own, his hands on either side of you, caging you in.

"Impatient, are we?" he smirked, enjoying the way you whine for him. He ran his fingers up your thigh, his touch scorching hot through the thin fabric of your skirt. "So needy.. You're absolutely desperate for me, aren’t you."

“Mhm, so desperate.” you mutter while guiding his hand further up your thigh, desperate for him to touch you right where you need it. “Please touch me Aemond, you're torturing me..”

Aemond groaned as your hand guided his own, his fingers trailing higher, coming closer and closer to the spot where you wanted him most. Your need was almost unbearable for him to witness, and he was fighting to keep his composure, to not let himself just take you right then and there.

"You're the one who's torturing me," he whispered, his voice strained. "The way you moan for me, the way you're desperate for my touch... it's driving me mad."

You let out another soft moan, leaning back on the desk as he finally slips his hand between your thighs.

Aemond's eye darkened with desire as you leaned back on the desk and let out another moan. He gently pushed your thighs apart even more, his fingers slowly dancing over the fabric of your clothes, enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him.

"So eager for me, aren't you? So needy for my touch," he said, his voice low and sultry. "Beg me, Y/N. Beg for me to touch you properly."

“Please, Sir.. touch me properly, please give me what I need.” you whine, become more and more impatient with his teasing. Aemond was enjoying the way you whined and pleaded for him.

Your impatience was only bringing him closer to the edge, making him want to finally give you what you wanted. But he wanted to hear you say it again. "Use my name," he commanded, his voice dark. "Say it again. I want to hear my name when you beg me, Y/N."

“Aemond, I can’t take anymore teasing..” you gasp, feeling his hand trailing up your inner thigh. He took a second to savor the sound of it on your lips, relishing the way it sounded when you begged him for more.

He slid his hand even higher, until his fingers were gently brushing over your most sensitive parts, through the fabric of your clothes. He leaned in, his lips millimeters from your ear.

"You've been a very good girl," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. "I suppose I'll give you what you want."

"Aemond," you moaned, the sound of his name like a prayer on your lips. You felt his hand move under your skirt, the fabric of your panties the only barrier between his skin and your wetness.

He hooked his finger under the elastic and with a swift motion, he slid them to the side, exposing you completely to his touch. He didn't waste any time, immediately pressing his finger against your entrance, feeling the slick heat of your arousal.

His eyes never left yours as he began to push in, the slow, deliberate movement making you beg for more.

"Please, Aemond," you gasped, your hips rolling in a silent plea for him to fill you completely. He smirked at your desperation, enjoying every second of it.

His finger slid in easily, and he watched your face contort with pleasure as he began to move it in and out, his strokes slow and maddening. Each time he went deeper, you could feel yourself getting wetter, your body begging for more.

He didn't need to be told twice; he added another finger, stretching you out even more, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you fall apart.

The room was filled with the sound of your whimpers and his soft, taunting whispers, the scent of your desire thick in the air. Aemond's own arousal was clear, his pants bulging as he worked you with his hand.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered, "Keep begging for it, Y/N. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you."

Your breath hitched as his fingers hit a spot inside you that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Aemond, I need you," you whispered, your voice shaking with need. "Please, fuck me, I can't wait any longer."

He chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers and taking a step back, leaving you trembling on the desk. "Patience," he said, his voice a low command.

He quickly unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down, his erection standing proud and demanding. "You'll get what you want, but only when I say you can."

With that, he stepped closer again, his body pressing against yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel the head of his cock nudging against you, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. "Beg for it," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Beg for me to take you."

Your body was on fire, your mind a whirlwind of desire. You didn't need to be told twice. "Aemond, please," you begged, your voice desperate and needy. "Take me, I need you inside me."

With a groan of his own, Aemond pushed into you, his cock filling you in one smooth stroke. You cried out, your nails digging into the wood of the desk as he began to move, his hips driving into you with a passion that was almost animalistic.

The friction was exquisite, the feeling of him inside you was everything you had been dreaming of. And so it began, a dance of power and pleasure, where you were both the dominator and the dominated, the hunted and the hunted.

With every thrust, every moan, every desperate plea, the walls of the office seemed to close in around you, until there was nothing but the two of you and the sound of skin on skin.

As Aemond began to move inside you, his hips setting a punishing rhythm, you bit your lip to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your mouth.

You didn't want the rest of the office to hear how completely he owned you, how every stroke of his cock sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. But Aemond noticed your effort to remain quiet, and his smirk grew darker.

"Let them hear you," he said, his voice a low command. "Let them know how much you want this, how much you need me."

You hesitated for a moment, but the need to please him overrode any shred of modesty you had left. You let out a low moan, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment as the sound echoed through the room. Aemond's eye narrowed in approval, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you even harder.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Let it out, scream for me."

And so you did, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You could feel the tension in the air around you, the energy of your shared passion almost tangible.

Aemond's movements grew more erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants as he fucked you with an intensity that bordered on feral. The world outside the office door didn't exist anymore, it was just the two of you and the sound of your bodies colliding.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper, faster. The desk creaked under your combined weight, the sound mixing with the wet slap of flesh and the harsh rhythm of your breathing.

And as you felt the beginnings of your climax building, you couldn't help but wonder if this was what it was like to truly submit to someone, to be claimed in every sense of the word.

Aemond leaned in, capturing your mouth in a brutal kiss that stole your breath away. His tongue danced with yours as his hips continued their relentless assault, his hand moving to palm your mound, his thumb flicking over your clit. The combination of his touch and the feel of him inside you was too much to handle, and you shattered around him, your orgasm tearing through you like a storm.

He didn't stop, though, driving into you harder and faster, chasing his own release. And when he finally found it, he pulled back, his single eye blazing with victory as he watched you come apart in his arms. The silence that followed was deafening, both of you trying to catch your breath as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your racing hearts, the throb of your bodies, and the knowledge that the office outside had just become a place of secret desire and power games. Aemond leaned down, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "You're mine now, Y/N. Remember that." And with that, he pulled out, leaving you trembling and exposed on the desk, the evidence of your desire for him slick on your thighs.

Aemond leaned back, drinking in the sight of you laid out on the desk before him, your body still trembling and panting after your intense climax. He smiled with satisfaction, enjoying the way your eyes couldn't seem to meet his own, the aftermath of your submission still fresh on your face.

"Do you understand, Y/N?" he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of command. "Do you understand who you belong to? Who you *truly* belong to?"

“Yes.. yes Sir..” you murmur, voice dazed as you try to catch your breath.

Aemond chuckled at your dazed response, enjoying the way you called him "Sir" even now, after everything that had just happened.

He leaned in, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. "Good," he said, his voice low and calm. "Because I expect you to remember it from now on. You're mine, Y/N. Body and mind. And I won't tolerate any disrespect, or any attempts to defy me."

You nod, leaning your head to his hand, enjoying the gentleness of his touch. A knock on the door sends a shiver down your spine, you try to stand from the desk but Aemond holds you in place.

Aemond's hand on your hip held you firm in place, preventing you from moving. He glanced towards the door, his expression becoming stoic for a moment.

"Come in." he called out, his voice commanding without betraying any hint of what had just happened. You squirm under his hands, nervously trying to get away.

“Oh uh, here’s the paperwork you needed.” One of your coworkers quickly sets the file on the desk, leaving the room quickly and gently closing the door behind them.

Aemond didn't look away from you as the worker left the room, his eye focused on you like a hawk. He could feel your squirms, your attempt to get away from him.

As soon as the door clicked shut, his grip on you tightened, pinning you in place. He raised an eyebrow at you, his expression a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"Where do you think you're going, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low and steady. "I'm not finished with you yet."

@bellasdepressionerascreams

[just-some-random-blogger]

I've died methinks this was so good 😭😭😭😭 what the fuck now I wanna be an almost ex wife???? I AINT EVER LETTING YOU GO AEMOND

Walking through the cabin, you go to fetch your pajamas, ready to retire for the night. Aemond lies in his bed, a book in his hand. So far, he’s pretending to not hear you to not acknowledge you, and you’re kind of grateful for it, because it means you don’t have to watch your every move around him. 

Fyi aemond my jammies are booty shorts 😋😋😋 cos the heat in the Philippines is atrocious 💀💀💀💀

“I need to ask you a question,” he says almost nonchalantly, trying to keep his voice quieter so as to not disturb the silence that surrounds you. 

🧍‍♀️ I'm scared. Someone hold me

“Don’t really have a choice, do I?” you state rather matter-of-factly than asking. There comes no reply from him, obviously waiting until you're back in view. 

She ate him up with that

As you emerge from the cranny, you’re dressed in one of his older band shirts that reach your mid-thighs, covering the short, pink shorts you wear. You still sleep in his clothes, despite you separating quite a few months ago, a habit you had picked up pretty early into your relationship. The memories you connect with his old t-shirts always manage to lift up your spirits, remembering the good old days. 

THE AEMOND'S OLD BAND TSHIRT IS WILDDDDDDDD

“Do you miss me?”

“And that’s not true,” you counter. “We had our flaws, yes, but if we hadn't been good for each other, our little girl wouldn’t have turned out the way she did. She’s amazing, and that’s to our credit.”

💔💔💔💔💔💔 WHY ARE YOU EVEN DIVORCING STOPPOPP

Aemond smiles fondly as he hears your words, more so that you inquire of his precious girl. “She misses him dearly,” he says, but he can’t shake off the feeling that there’s more to your words than just the wellbeing of your dogs. He smiles softly, and turns his head to look at you. “Just like I miss you.”

“Five months I had to live without this sweet pussy of yours, and I won’t spend any longer not being buried inside of it.”

“Fuck, missed you so, so much,” he murmurs against your skin, drunk on your pussy. “All mine… won’t let you leave again.” 

You cross your arms behind his neck, one hand entangling into his silken, silver strands. Every time you try to arch against him, your hard nipples press against his chest. 

WISH I WAS HER WISH I WAS HER WISH I WAS HER WISH I WAS HER WISH I WAS HER WISH I WAS HER

“Show me your tongue,” he commands, and you do as he says.  

Is he gonna

Parting your lips and sticking out your tongue, you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes. As the warm puddle of his saliva hits it, you’re all too eager to swallow it down, moaning softly as the taste of him spreads on your tongue. 

Aemond fucks you both through the aftershocks, a white ring of your mixed juices forming around the base of his thick shaft. But as his jaw slackens and he moves to pull out of you, you’re quick to lock your legs around his hips and flip him onto his back, giving neither of you time to get to grips with the events that transpire between you. 

The quizzical look he flashes you as you sit astride him encourages you to roll your hips against his, riding him through the overstimulation. “Maybe… maybe it would be a good idea to see someone about this,” you breathe, grabbing his hands and planting them at your waist. “A couple therapist perhaps, so we can talk through some of the issues that have come up between us, to resolve the root of all our issues…”

AS YOU SHOULD SLAYYYYYYYYYYY LOVE THIS FOR YOUUUUUU

SHADOWS PLAY ON IDLE HANDS.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x (ex-)wife!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; oral (fem receiving), p in v, missionary position, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, tiddy sucking, making up sex, angst (?)

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Based on this request. Thank you so much, @multyfangirl! 🥰 This is not beta read!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

Was it silly of you to think that they’d assign a cabin to all the female supervisors to share back when you signed up to supervise your daughter’s summer camp? Most definitely, because otherwise you wouldn’t be sharing it with your ex-husband right now.

Technically, he’s your soon-to-be ex-husband, considering the divorce hasn’t yet been finalized, but still, he’s the last person you want to share a cabin with. 

It’s night four, and you two haven’t done much talking up until now. With it being a summer camp for children in the kindergarten age, your days are quite busy which allows you to stay away from him as much as possible. 

Unless it’s time for you to go to sleep. 

Walking through the cabin, you go to fetch your pajamas, ready to retire for the night. Aemond lies in his bed, a book in his hand. So far, he’s pretending to not hear you to not acknowledge you, and you’re kind of grateful for it, because it means you don’t have to watch your every move around him. 

Although you’ve been together and married for quite a few years, it does feel like you’re living around a stranger ever since you both came to the conclusion to separate five months ago, him moving out of the house quite early probably playing a big part in it. 

The divorce certainly would settle sooner, if it wasn’t for your daughter, and you both don’t want to make it more traumatizing for her like it already is. 

His voice is somewhat soft when it cuts through the silence, speaking your name and making you flinch and stop on your way to a little nook to get changed in private. 

You can’t deny the warmth that spreads through your body at the sound of it. “Mh?” you raise your brow, looking at him from over your shoulder. 

Despite his lingering eye secretly watching you, he turns his gaze back to the book in his hand. “I need to ask you a question,” he says almost nonchalantly, trying to keep his voice quieter so as to not disturb the silence that surrounds you. 

The mixed signals make you frown, and you shrug your shoulders before disappearing in the little nook. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?” you state rather matter-of-factly than asking. There comes no reply from him, obviously waiting until you're back in view. 

As you emerge from the cranny, you’re dressed in one of his older band shirts that reach your mid-thighs, covering the short, pink shorts you wear. You still sleep in his clothes, despite you separating quite a few months ago, a habit you had picked up pretty early into your relationship. The memories you connect with his old t-shirts always manage to lift up your spirits, remembering the good old days. 

It’s obvious he tries to keep himself occupied with the book, the slight struggle always drawing his eye back towards you. There’s some nostalgia seeing you dressed in his old stuff as well as the shorts only you can get away with wearing. 

Heat spreads on your cheeks as you walk towards your bed, slipping under the covers so his eye would finally stop devouring you. You’re not one to start arguments, especially with the summer camp having barely started, but you know there are some unresolved issues between you two that he’s dying to talk about.  “Your question, Aemond?” 

And then he finally closes his book, placing it on the nightstand table next to his bed to focus all of his attention on you. A shiver runs down your spine at that, and you subconsciously straighten your back. 

“Do you miss me?”

The question surprises you as you don’t expect your ex-husband to ask you such an open question. You’re used to him being a bit more closed off and dismissive when it comes to your relationship, but on the other hand he was never one to beat about the bush. 

You’re left speechless for a moment, until you find the courage to answer in all honesty. “Yes, I do.” There’s no denying it. Not when you’re still wearing his clothes to bed. 

What you don’t expect is the simple “hm” that rumbles in his throat, clearly pleased at your hesitance, before he moves to turn away from you. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line at his reaction, you rub your hands against each other. Taking in a deep breath, you sit up straighter. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right? If anything, our marriage failed because of us, not because of one person alone.”

With the light of the moon shining through the windows of your cabin, highlighting the outline of Aemond, you can spot his body tense slightly at your words, but he does not turn around to face you again. 

He doesn’t speak as he takes in a breath, lying there motionless. The silence seems to stretch on for some time until it’s broken by him. “So, you don’t blame me?”

The urge to scoff at his words is hard to resist, but you manage, wanting to keep the air surrounding you as vulnerable and soft as it is right now. You shake your head, despite him not seeing it at all. “Of course not, Aemond,” you say. “Your father’s death hit us both quite hard, and with the winter fever depression on both sides we just couldn’t support each other through that period of time, I think. Maybe if we would have figured something needed to change, we wouldn’t have called it quits.”

Aemond is quickly reminded of how comfortable he’s always felt around you when you were younger and still together. He has expected that you would simply grow to despise one another completely, and not that you would take the matter into an empathic approach. 

“I should have been more attentive to you,” he says as he remains facing away from you. 

You’re pleasantly surprised about his answer, despite how short it is. The conversation you two are having heads down a more personal route, and it’s something you’re rather enjoying. You’re impressed by the new sense of maturity that he seems to have acquired ever since you parted ways. 

“Bullshit. We should have been more attentive to each other,” you retort, your tone as empathetic as you can make it without seeming over-soft.

“That’s true,” he says. He finally turns around, his eye finding yours. “We weren’t good for each other, were we?”

“And that’s not true,” you counter. “We had our flaws, yes, but if we hadn't been good for each other, our little girl wouldn’t have turned out the way she did. She’s amazing, and that’s to our credit.”

It’s a wonder to the both of you how your daughter turned out so well in spite of all the chaos that goes on between you and your divorce, and truly shows that you two must have done something right in your relationship. 

You sigh, thinking back to fond memories that make you chuckle. “Oh God, I was so cross with you during the birth. The audacity of you holding my hand and asking if I'm okay while I screamed and moaned for my life.”

The story makes him laugh. “Fuck, that was an experience. I’ll never forget you screaming ‘Do you THINK I’m okay?’ as you really squeezed the life out of me. I don’t know who was in more pain at that moment.”

Only with his narrative of the moment do you notice how amusing the memory truly is, painting the perfect picture of a couple in love in the midst of chaos. 

“You scared the wits out of me,” he adds, chuckling. 

Bending your legs at the knees, you make yourself more comfortable, not yet ready to fall asleep. Aemond watches you as you lick your lips. "To be fair, I really thought I’d go through it all alone, because you looked like you were going to faint when they gave me the epidural.”

You recall the sheer terror that was written all over his face as he watched you give birth to your daughter. Something you hadn’t seen before. 

“To this day, I don’t think that I have ever known so many feelings at once as I did when I saw you give birth,” he says, letting his gaze wander off to the side for a moment. “But I’ve pulled myself together, because you know I would have never lived that moment down. You would have made a whole show of it.”

“Oh, most definitely. It would have been my go-to story for so many family gatherings, because no one would believe me you’d faint. Aegon? Maybe, but you? Never,” you scoff. 

Aemond lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I was a real wuss during that moment. Perhaps you should have taken out your phone after the birth to record my reaction.”

You raise your brow, shooting him a glare. “That would have been an idea, because then we’d at least have some first photos of her during the check-up that don’t have me in the background naked, sweating and delivering the placenta.”

He smirks at the glare, not minding as it’s actually quite amusing to see you angry at him again for something not too serious. “That would have been a memory to remember. You, all sweaty after giving birth, and then there’s me, unconscious from seeing you give birth.”

The image makes you chuckle. “To be fair, we were quite young when that happened.”

“Too young, but we’ve worked out well enough in dealing with it, haven't we?”

You find yourself nodding in response to his words of confirmation. “Yes, in spite of all the hardships that surrounded us, we have managed quite well with her. We’ve been the best parents that we both have been able to be… together or not.” There’s a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “How’s Vhagar faring with it? Meraxes does miss her sometimes.”

Aemond smiles fondly as he hears your words, more so that you inquire of his precious girl. “She misses him dearly,” he says, but he can’t shake off the feeling that there’s more to your words than just the wellbeing of your dogs. He smiles softly, and turns his head to look at you. “Just like I miss you.”

Your body feels as if it’s on fire with his confession, and you can’t keep your gazes locked. It’s all too much and not enough at once. And when Aemond lifts his blanket, gesturing for you to crawl over to him, you know he feels the same. 

“This bed is big enough for two,” he whispers. 

You’ve been rather stunned at the invitation, yet, you accept it without hesitation. Climbing out of your bed and into his feels all too natural for you, and his body next to yours is a feeling you’ve come to know quite well in your past but has been missing for some time. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but there’s no discomfort or tension between you.

Keeping a fair distance from him isn’t something you master, failing the moment his scent fills your nostrils and urges you to bury your head in the crook of his neck. Snuggling up against him, you’re sure to never leave the bed the moment his arms wrap around you. 

He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent he’s clearly missed just as much as you missed his. The way you feel with your head resting against his jaw makes it hard for him to suppress the urge to pull you even closer to him for fear of pushing you away. 

It’s just both of your breathing filling the otherwise silent room, broken as he speaks. “I missed this.”

It certainly was dangerous to get so close to him, apparent in your half-lidded eyes as you pulled back to look at him. Your gaze flickers between his and his lips, your faces but mere inches apart. “I missed this, too.”

Encouraged by your words, Aemond brings his hand to your cheek, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheekbone, his own breathing becoming heavy as he watches you. 

The way you look back at him nearly causes him to lose the last bit of control he clings to as he desires you with a fire he hasn’t felt in a very long time. When his other hand comes to the back of your head and he leans in, you lick your lips which is more than enough to send him over the edge. 

His hand begins to slide down your back as his thumb traces your bottom lip, heat following in its wake. And then he dips his head forward enough to capture your lips, melting against each other.

Coaxed by his hand slipping beneath the oversized t-shirt you wear, you grip the collar of his t-shirt and pull him closer to you, not daring to break the kiss. His hands are impatient to tug on the flimsy shorts you wear, and you shimmy your way out of them as he pulls them down your legs. 

Your heavy breath fans over his kiss-swollen lips as you pull back from him to speak. Aemond doesn’t wait to hear your words, diving in to press his lips to your jaw and neck. “We… We should not… the divorce…” you trail off, panting heavily and suddenly well aware of how tightly you’re pressed against him. 

Bringing his hands to your belly, the hem of your shirt is riled up and pooling around your waist. “It doesn’t matter,” he rasps against your skin. “Just this one night…”

You nod, letting out a soft moan as he cups your breast. “One little night of bliss…” you mewl. 

It’s clear that the proximity to him gets you just as hot as he is, no longer trying to resist and giving into the feeling you’ve been fighting back for so long. There’s no resistance left in you, clearly forgetting all the bad things that have happened before. You don’t know what will happen between you two tomorrow morning or the day after that, but you can’t bring yourself to care about it at this moment. 

With your hands still fisting his shirt, you pull his body between your legs, the weight of his tall frame heavy on top of you now. He ruts against you as your lips meet again, moving roughly against yours as his hard cock strains against the boxer briefs he wears. You instinctively grind against him, desperate for any kind of friction against your needy pussy. 

The kiss is hardly broken as you pull the shirt over his head, exposing his alabaster skin and well toned torso, only for you to not admire it as he starts to nibble on your bottom lip. 

You trace your fingers across his torso, trailing lower until they hook beneath the waistband of his briefs. “I need you,” you whine, tugging at the elastic to encourage him to slip out of it. But Aemond merely tsks at that. 

“Easy there,” he drawls, mimicking your gesture with his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He shifts to the side and pulls them down your legs, prompting you to shimmy your way out of them to help him. 

The blankets have long found their way down the bed, laying in a pile right next to it, and therefore you gasp when the cold air hits your soaked core. 

Aemond gets back between your legs again, scooting back and crouching down to kiss his way up your inner thighs, draping them over his shoulders. The moan you release brings heat to your cheeks, more so when his tongue makes contact with your cunt and coaxes another one to slip past your lips.

“You’re drenched,” he remarks smugly, dark blown eye gazing up at you from between your legs. 

Rolling your eyes at that, you entangle a hand into his hair and push his face down between your legs. “Don’t be such a tease now.”

Clearly not minding this bossy side at all, Aemond gets straight to the point. His lips wrap around your little bundle of nerves, and one suck of him already has you arching your back and rolling your hips like a bitch in heat. He alternates between gentle sucking and tracing it with his tongue, driving you insane  

Less than half a year apart and you’ve already forgotten just how good he is at putting his mouth to work. 

Two of his fingers slowly ease inside of you, expertly brushing your sweet spot in a come hither motion that has you tightly locking your legs around his head, not caring if it would crush or suffocate him. With one hand still in his hair, you tug on it not-so-gently which has Aemond groaning against your folds. 

The knot in your belly tightens all too quickly with the pace he sets up, lapping and sucking at your clit in tandem with his fingers scissoring in and out of you. But it doesn’t seem like that’s what Aemond wants. Being able to read all the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, he stops his ministrations without missing a beat. 

You’re baffled, the pleasure disappearing at once. When you look down at him, you spot his chin, lips and cheeks coated in your arousal, glistening in the dim light the moon casts through the windows. “W-What?” you whimper with a pout, trying to force his head back down again. But Aemond is stronger, making it clear he’s just played with you before. 

Watching him lick the remnants of your arousal from his swollen lips, you can’t help but moan, liquid fire coursing through your veins and making your longing for him even more apparent. 

“You don’t think I’m going to savor your first orgasm with my tongue, do you?” he asks matter-of-factly, peeling your legs off of him and sitting back on his haunches.

The breath hitches in your throat not only at his words, but also at the tip of his cock peeking from beneath the waistband of his briefs. He’s rock hard and aching, wanting to be buried inside of you. 

“Five months I had to live without this sweet pussy of yours, and I won’t spend any longer not being buried inside of it.”

Staring at his throbbing cock, you bite your bottom lip and nod almost in a sheepish manner. You pulling the shirt over your head and spreading your legs is all it takes for Aemond to rid himself of his briefs, one hand curling around his shaft as the other grabs you by your hip, pulling you towards him. 

He drags the bulbous tip of his cock through your drenched folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, your arousal making it easy for his thick cock to breach your tightness with little resistance.

The feeling of your pussy desperately sucking him inside until he’s buried to the hilt is a feeling of indescribable bliss that has you releasing a shaky breath in unison. Your hands fly to his shoulders for leverage, holding onto him as he towers over you, tall frame completely shielding your significantly smaller one. 

“Gods, I… forgot how big you are,” you breathe, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes. 

He brings a hand to your waist, and places the other next to your head, keeping himself supported as he begins to grind his hips against yours. “Hm, fuck, we’ll get you used to it again tonight, princess,” he rasps, heavy panting audible in between the words. The pet name makes you clench around him. Oh, how your body has longed for him. 

You unravel beneath Aemond, arching your back and tipping your head back into the cheap pillows, the sight not making it easier for him to stay composed enough to not come on spot. 

And that’s when he moves to press his chest flush against yours, holding your cheek with one hand, whilst the other grabs the side of the headboard. His lips find the side of your face, kissing along your jaw, earlobe and down the side of your neck. You have your head tilted to the side, granting him even more access as the weight of his body stops you from squirming beneath him and rolling your hips. 

“Fuck, missed you so, so much,” he murmurs against your skin, drunk on your pussy. “All mine… won’t let you leave again.” 

You cross your arms behind his neck, one hand entangling into his silken, silver strands. Every time you try to arch against him, your hard nipples press against his chest. 

“Don’t want to,” you reply. 

Whimpering and whining beneath him, Aemond’s heavy grunts and groans fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on even more. There’s no rush to his movements, the both of you clearly savoring the moment of peace and making up for all the time you’ve lost, and yet it’s enough to build the pressure within your belly again.

The sparse, coarse hairs splayed around the base of his cock and over his pubic bone drag over your sensitive clit with the ruts of his hips, sending a shiver up your spine each time. His thrusts are gentle but determined, reaching deep and expertly brushing your sweet spot, and he fucks sweet, little mewls and moans out of your throat, filling the cabin.  

His thumb presses into your cheek to turn your face towards him, and you’re eagerly welcomed by his lips, capturing yours in a fervent and heated kiss. His lips move sensually against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth and alternating with his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. 

As he withdraws his lips from yours, a dark blown eye watching your blissed out expression, you try to chase them for yet another kiss, but he keeps your head in place. His lips are puckered slightly, and the thought of what’s to come makes your insides churn in a good way, becoming limp in your reverie. 

“Show me your tongue,” he commands, and you do as he says.  

Parting your lips and sticking out your tongue, you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes. As the warm puddle of his saliva hits it, you’re all too eager to swallow it down, moaning softly as the taste of him spreads on your tongue. 

“You’re gonna come for me now?” he drawls, pressing his chest against yours and dipping his head forwards to capture your earlobe between his teeth. It’s a grazing touch, but still has goosebumps prickling on your skin.

The coil inside of you tightens quickly with all sensations hitting you at once and the deep desire to please him, and you’re once again surprised by how well Aemond knows your body, strumming it like a fiddle and always getting what he wants. 

You convulse all over him with a whine, your hips grinding against his as the white, hot pleasure courses through your veins. But his thrusts don’t stutter, keeping the sensual intensity to the point you’re losing your mind. 

“That’s it,” he coos through gritted teeth. “Fuck, missed the pretty face you make when you’re coming all over my cock, hm.” You’re not sure whether it’s his pubic bone still dragging over your clit, his cock still sliding in and out of you, or if his praise alone is enough to prolong your orgasm, but you feel yourself keening at his words. 

It takes him a couple more thrusts that slowly bring you to the point of overstimulation, until his own orgasm washes over him. His cock is twitching and throbbing as your walls squeeze him for every drop of his seed, spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. 

Aemond fucks you both through the aftershocks, a white ring of your mixed juices forming around the base of his thick shaft. But as his jaw slackens and he moves to pull out of you, you’re quick to lock your legs around his hips and flip him onto his back, giving neither of you time to get to grips with the events that transpire between you. 

The quizzical look he flashes you as you sit astride him encourages you to roll your hips against his, riding him through the overstimulation. “Maybe… maybe it would be a good idea to see someone about this,” you breathe, grabbing his hands and planting them at your waist. “A couple therapist perhaps, so we can talk through some of the issues that have come up between us, to resolve the root of all our issues…”

He sits up straight, snaking one arm around your waist to keep your body against his as his mouth finds your hard nipple, suckling and nibbling on it. The other hand fondles and gropes at your breast, squeezing it rather roughly. “Maybe that isn’t such a bad idea,” he groans against your skin, licking a flat stripe along the curve of your breast. “We…” his voice catches in this throat with you starting to ride him more fervently. “We should do that, yes.”

Neither of you is certain if the other’s words are genuine or just spoken in the heat of the moment, but it feels as though you’re seeing eye to eye in this moment. Something your relationship has been missing for a very long time. For the remainder of the night, you both seek to get what you still crave from each other, sharing countless orgasms and an unusually passionate embrace. 

However, as the night comes to an end with the light of the next day breaking through the windows of the cabin, and you wake up in Aemond’s arms, you figure that there was truth to your words and that you both strive to save and improve your marriage again. 

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Why am i ready for stalker aemond that has slow burn and is super angsty? like someone who isnt afraid of his scar in preschool then moves away but he found her in either social media or a sports meet and started stalking from then on and then he goes to the same college and remembers her schedule, which dorm shes in and trying to get in her room at night or is in the dorm across from her and ugh i could start a fic tbh

If you do start a Fic, 100% tag me in that sh*t! I would LOVE to read it, but because you sent it to me imma give it a go for you cause it sounds delicious! I hope it is everything you want it to be!

Yandere!Aemond. Major Stalking! You’ve Been Warned!

DD:DNE

Aemond considered Y/n to be a miracle from the day he met her.

It was the first day of Pre-School and he wanted to be anywhere but there, surrounded by other students. He wanted to be at home with his mother, or even his big brother, anyone just to get away from the staring children.

Aemond had learned almost as soon as his cousin had sliced his face open that while adults would stare, they would at least be discreet about it, children were not. Aemond, while being a child, didn’t consider himself one, and it was something most adults found amusing as he would much rather spend time with his mother or the adults in his family than with his siblings or cousins. He would rather read than play with toys, rather watch movies his mother liked than ones his siblings enjoyed, it’s just the way Aemond had always been…until her.

All of the children stared at him from the moment he walked in and said “goodbye” to his mother. The staff tried to direct the children away, told them it was rude to stare, but they weren’t always paying attention and trying to get a bunch of 4 year olds attention when they’re locked onto something is…difficult at best. Around lunch time the staff had left all but one in the room to prepare food for the kids and suddenly Aemond found a boy much larger than him to be holding his eyepatch in his hand, the children around him laughing and teasing immediately. The teacher was on the other side of the room and oblivious as Aemond tried to grab his eyepatch back, the other boy shoving him to the ground before he was suddenly laying right beside Aemond holding his crotch and wailing in pain. A blonde girl that Aemond could only describe as beautiful was standing above him with an angry look on her face.

‘What did he ever do to you?! Huh?! Leave Him Alone!’ She snatched the eyepatch from the portly child’s hand and moved to hand it back to Aemond who strapped it back on immediately. ‘Are you okay?’ Aemond nodded quickly, opening his mouth to speak but finding no words that would come out. ‘I’m Y/n, you’re Aemond, right?’ He nodded again, mouth hanging open dumbly and looking like an idiot he is sure. ‘I’m sorry he did that, No one should be mean like that for something you can’t help and you don’t have to tell no one nothing…I’m sorry, you want to be alone.’ She turned to walk away when he finally got his voice box to work…sadly it had been muted so long that the sound he finally made was a bit too loud.

‘NO!’ He exclaimed and she jumped, turning back to him instantly. ‘I’m sorry…I mean, no, I don’t want to be alone…it’s nice to meet you Y/n…do you want to sit with me for lunch?’ She smiled, a red tint to her cheeks and Aemond decided he absolutely adored her pretty smile.

‘Yeah…that sounds fun.’ She grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him over to a table, handing him a place mat and some crayons to decorate it with. Coloring was never something Aemond had really enjoyed, Art wasn’t his thing, but if Y/n enjoyed it then so did he.

Aemond and Y/n spent the rest of the day together before pick-up and as soon as he said “good-bye”, leaving with his mothers driver and climbed into the car beside his mom, he was talking about her. Alicent was thrilled that her son had made a friend his own age, while it’s entertaining to see her 4 year old boy so grown-up and mature, she didn’t want him to miss out on being a child just because he didn’t have any friends.

At the end of the week, after learning that Aemond and Y/n’s friendship wasn’t going anywhere, Alicent stood outside to pick her son up rather than wait in the car for their driver to get him. She watched her son run outside, hand in hand with a girl a bit shorter than him and they looked truly adorable. ‘Mom!’ Her son exclaimed, excited to see her waiting for him herself and deciding she should do this more often to see that smile so rare on her baby’s face.

‘Hello, my sweet Little Dragon! How was your day?’ She asked, watching the girl run to a women a few feet away and take her hand.

‘It was so good! Y/n and I made pictures of our families for the wall-wait! You need to meet her! Y/n!’ Aemond exclaimed, the girl stopping and her mother looking back as well, slightly irritated. ‘Mom, this is Y/n, she’s my best friend!’ He grinned and so did Y/n who hugged him at that deceleration.

‘Well, if she’s your best friend then you must have her over for a play date. Would that be alright?’ She asked the girls mom.

‘Oh, yes, of course. Anytime.’ She spoke, writing down her number on a piece of paper. ‘I’m Marie, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n talks about your boy all the time.’

‘Mom!’ The girl whined, the mothers sharing a side smile at their kids evident first crush on each other.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Alicent. How about tomorrow? She can come by and spend the day with us, I’ll drop her at home after dinner?’ Her mom looked surprised.

‘That’s perfect actually, I have work all day. Text me your address and what time to drop her off, she will love spending the day with Aemond rather than the neighbor. I’m sorry to say I’m in a rush to get back to work, it was nice meeting you Alicent, and you too Aemond. Come on Y/n, let go.’

‘Bye Aemond!’ Y/n waved, her mother dragging her off. She didn’t strike Alicent as rude, just in a bit of a hurry. You could clearly see the difference in their status in life, if not just from the fact that Y/n’s mother was wearing a waitress uniform and Alicent was wearing a Versace dress and Gucci shoes. She finds herself wondering how the women pays for the fancy daycare at all.

Alicent had married rich, Viserys happy to give her anything she wants as long as she doesn’t bother him at work, and he’s always at work. When he’s not however he is spending time with his daughter from his first marriage, Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra is 24 now, Viserys being significantly older than Alicent but she didn’t mind, he was a good, gentle man and that was hard to come by now a days. She had 2 sons, Jace who was 5 and Luke who was 3 (a child she detested for being the one who had sliced her baby’s face open 6 months before as he ran around the mansion with an old dagger from Viserys’ office and didn’t pay attention to her son sitting on the ground), though Rhaenyra was also pregnant with another child, none of which are her husbands clearly but that’s not her business… Alicent has 3 children of her own, Aegon who was 7, Helaena who was 5 and Aemond who had just turned 4, though she also suspected she was carrying a child that she hoped was a girl if not just to keep another boy from the chaos and bullying that goes on between the siblings and cousins.

‘Y/n is gonna spend the whole day with me?!’ Aemond suddenly exclaimed, knocking his mother from her thoughts.

‘Yes, she is. You’ll need to plan what you two want to do for the day and I’ll make sure Aegon doesn’t disturb you.’

‘Jace and Luke either?’ He asked…begged is more like.

‘Jace and Luke either, I’ll make sure they have something to do when they come tomorrow.’ The family always came to the house on the weekends as Viserys took that time for his family…part of it anyway.

‘Yay! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!’ Alicent was thrilled to see her son so happy…she had no idea it would be so incredibly short lived.

Y/n had begun spending the day with Aemond every day, coming to their house in their car after school, her mother coming to get her after work to take her home looking more tired than the night before. Alicent had tried to help the poor women. It turns out her husband had cheated on her while she was pregnant and gotten another women pregnant, divorcing her for his mistress and son. He’s the one who paid for the fancy preschool while her mother worked 3 jobs to keep everything afloat in their one bedroom apartment, since he paid for such a nice school he only paid 200 in child support leaving Marie with everything else and all the debt he had left behind in her name.

Alicent was happy to watch Y/n whenever she needed, it made her son happy and that’s all she wanted in the world. She had been so scared for him before he met Y/n that he would end up going down a dark path, the bullying at home and at school having been hard for him as well as his father clearly loving the child who had butchered him more than his own son.

That all came to a grinding halt however when Y/n’s mom was evicted from her apartment leaving them homeless, forcing them to move in with Marie’s ex-mother in-law who lived in New York. Aemond had tried to promise to visit every weekend before Alicent was forced to explain just how far away New York was from California, to say the children were upset was a huge understatement. The teary good-bye nearly broke the mothers hearts as they swore to write to each other every day, and they did, they both learned to write faster than any of the kids their age just to write to each other and it lasted about a year. Y/n’s grandmother had found out she was writing to a boy in California and cut it off, threatening to take Y/n away from her mother if her mother didn’t stop the interaction. Marie wrote Alicent and explained what had happened leaving her to break her baby’s heart all over again.

Aemond became cold after that. He had no more friends, detested his cousins, tolerated his brothers and only loved Helaena though she was with friends everyday of her life. He took his schooling very seriously, taking several extra curricular’s on the side to take up his time which consisted of Jiu-Jitsu, Tae Kwon Do, and oddly enough, sword fighting which Alicent didn’t support right away until he promised to start with fencing. It turned out that he was really good at it and his father hired a trainer, Criston Cole, to teach him sword fighting, paying to transform a room in the mansion into a training room.

Once Aemond got to middle school, no one was bullying him anymore after breaking 3 kids noses and 2 of their arms. When he turned 14 and moved up to high school he had finally broken down and created an Instagram account. Aemond hated social media, he found it annoying and pointless, but he quickly found a use for it once he looked up Y/n and found her account. It wasn’t private, making it easy to look through all of her pictures, finding out that she still lived in New York with just her Grandmother now as her mother had passed away in a hit and run with a drunk driver when she was 9. She had many pictures with her and another girl who seemed to be her best and only friend and nowhere could Aemond find anything about a boyfriend which gave him an instant sense of relief. He had spent the last almost 10 years obsessing over her, though he kept it to himself. He had sent her a letter a few years before, hoping that maybe now that they had grown a bit she would be able to write him back but it was returned unopened with a note that told him to never send anything again or her grandmother would file a restraining order.

For the next 2 years he was as content as he could be watching her life through social media, until their junior year that is when he decided to pay a man to hack into her computer, actually watching what he did and figuring out how to go about doing it himself. He read all of her emails from then on, finding out what colleges she was applying to and applying himself, knowing he would obviously get in with his incredible grades and extra curricular’s. Her grandmother was forcing her to go to college, wanting her to be a physical therapist despite the fact that she wanted to be an artist. Aemond had found she had a separate, secret Instagram account that her grandmother didn’t know about that held all of her paintings and sketches, and she was honestly incredible.

Aemond had decided that when she was his she would drop out of college and move in with him, she would have her own little art studio to do whatever she wanted in. He would buy her anything she wanted, give her everything in the world if she only asked for it, Y/n Y/L/n was going to be his wife…whether she knew it yet or not.

At 18, Aemond moved out to New York for the year, deciding not to go to college but convincing his father to open a branch of his publishing business out there and let him set everything up for him. It wouldn’t be hard, honestly Aemond would pay others to do everything and just oversee the company while he watched over his Princess. He had already been stalking her online for over 4 years and in her own computer for 2, this was hardly a step up.

Alicent knew of course, she knew that her son had become more than a little obsessed with his childhood friend and she knew that that’s why her boy was going to New York, she had been the one to talk her husband into letting him go. She wanted him to be happy, by any means necessary after all this time of misery and if he needed Y/n to make that happen then she was more than happy to welcome the sweet girl into the family. Even if she knew what her son was doing was wrong, she couldn’t change his mind, and she didn’t want to. Alicent loved Y/n and she knew that if there was one person in the world that her son would never hurt, it was her.

He watched from across the Quad as she arrived at the school, unpacking her things from the car and moving it all into her dorm room, a room which Aemond had made sure was a single for only her, he also made sure he had acquired a key for himself. He felt horrible that he couldn’t help her move things, especially the heavy things, but he knew there was no way she wouldn’t recognize him, and she clearly remembered him. She had several old pictures uploaded to her Instagram of the two of them together, one of them at a Carnival with their faces painted (which she had made him do, even forcing the painter to paint over the eyepatch since it would wash off), one of them carving pumpkins on Halloween, and Aemond’s personal favorite, a picture of the two of them snuggled up in his bed as she had slept over the night before, she was snuggled into his chest with his arms around her and his face in her hair which covered the scar completely. He knew she had plenty of pictures of the two of them without his eye patch on but she never put them online and he loved her for that, even if she didn’t know it yet. Next to his mother, she was the only person who really understood how sensitive he was about his scar and she never made him feel less than because of it, he knew she would never betray him, not even having shown her mother the pictures without the eyepatch.

He followed her to all of her classes, often watching them through the security cameras he had hacked into (becoming quite good at it) to see her during class, he had always loved her look of concentration as her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was scowling at you, she was adorable. He had placed several cameras in her room as well, watching her whenever he could, all she really did was school work and he realized how overwhelmed she was by college life, school was never her environment, it was too stressful for her and her free spirited mind and he knew it. He also knew that her Grandmother had threatened to kick her out onto the streets if she didn’t go to college for what she told her to, he had plans for that women, she will get what she deserves.

On several occasions he was witness to moments that he knew should be private, whether that be her stressed out crying or more…intimate moments. He couldn’t help but watch as her fingers touched her pretty little pussy, rubbing her clit and listening to the sweet sounds she made trying to be quiet, he couldn’t help but wrap his fingers around his length and edge himself right along with her, imagining those fingers in her cunt were his cock, desperate to feel her soft, warm pussy squeezing him as tight as it could as he made her cum again and again until she couldn’t take it anymore. He had fantasized about making her cum on his cock since he was 13 years old and by now he was more than desperate for her.

There were a few nights he actually snuck into the dorms and into her room, watching her sleep up close, trailing his fingers down her body, hating that he can’t just crawl into the bed beside her and hold her tight while he shoves his cock into her and makes her fall asleep with it as deep as it can get.

2 months he watched her before knowing he needed to make her his now, before it was too late. She had been asked out on a date by a Frat guy, begging to take her to a party and Aemond knew he couldn’t allow this.

The Frat boy got a visit from him later that night, waking up to Aemond sitting on the edge of his bed and realizing he had been tied down so tight that the ropes were cutting off circulation to his hands and feet. ‘Hello Chad, so sorry to wake you but this is a very important matter you see. Scream, and I will bash your brains in before anyone can even find out the door is locked, got it?’ He nodded quickly, terror in his eyes and Aemond found that he loved it, he loved scaring people that would hurt his Princess, she doesn’t deserve the kind of treatment this idiot would give her and Aemond knew that party wasn’t anything more than to make fun of his girl. The Frat assholes all getting a freshman girl to come to the ‘party’ and whichever guy could get their girl to put out first won some bullshit prize.

No. His Princess would not be humiliated like that.

‘You see Chad, you are bringing a girl back here tomorrow night, her name is Y/n, yes?’ He nodded again.

‘I didn’t know she was your girl, she didn’t say anything like that! I would never-‘

‘Yes you would, don’t lie to me Chad, boyfriend or not you would happily have brought her back here and made her a part of your little game.’ His eyes widened, unsure how Aemond could possibly know about that. ‘You’re not going to pick her up tomorrow Chad, do you understand? I will not have my Princess hurt and humiliated by an idiotic asshole who realistically couldn’t make a girl smile let alone cum. Now, this is just a warning of course, if I find out you went anywhere near her after our little conversation here, I would have to do something far worse than break into your disgusting Frat house and break your eye socket, do you get me?’

‘Yes! Yes, I-wait…break my wha-‘ quickly Aemond brought the bat he had picked up from the floor, down against the jackasses face, shoving the edge of his blanket into his mouth as he went to scream.

‘Secretly, I hope you do try something just so I get to have an excuse to come back here and break every one of your ribs before I ensure no women will ever say yes to a date with you again.’ He flicked open a blade, holding it against Chads face and hearing him whimper like a bitch. ‘It’s okay Chad, I’m not going to hurt you as long as you do what I’ve said here tonight. Are we on the same page?’ He nodded quickly and Aemond stood, walking out of the room and leaving the house, deciding on taking the bat with him, just in case.

The next night Y/n waited in the Quad at 9 o’clock, cursing out the asshole who didn’t pick her up and feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. She had been so alone here all this time, in a place she didn’t want to be at in the first place and just when she thought someone might be interested in her, even an asshole Frat jock, he stands her up. She felt like she couldn’t hold it in anymore, trying to muffle her cries with the sleeves of her hoodie before hearing someone speak to her.

‘Are you alright Princess?’ Princess? No one had called her Princess since-

Her head snapped up and she saw a very tall man standing about 5 feet away, he was lanky but still covered in muscle that you could clearly see through his tight henley shirt, he wore jeans and heavy boots with his silver hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. They black eyepatch sealed the deal for her though, if she didn’t already assume who this is, now she knows. ‘Aemond? Is that you?’

‘In the flesh…why are you crying Princess?’ He moved to sit beside her on the edge of the fountain and she just stared at him in shock.

‘I…I got stood up-what are you doing here?!’ He smiled sweetly and she couldn’t help but think how handsome her best friend had become…he’s a panty dropper!

‘I’m in New York setting up a branch here for Dad, the school however, my father has recently become a benefactor of, Daeron wants to come to school here for a year to start his doctorate in 2 years, you know dad, start bribing them as early as possible.’ He joked and she giggled, remembering exactly how Viserys used to be. She never had seen him much, which she understood was Aemond’s experience too, but he was always very sweet to her, bringing her gifts and sweets with all of his other children since she was there almost 100% of the time.

‘Did you know I was here?’ He nodded and she glared half heartedly at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?!’ She raged, punching him in the arm.

‘We’ll mostly because I sent a letter a few years after you left and your grandmother wrote back that I would receive a restraining order if I ever contacted you again. That’s why I never reached out online either, I didn’t want to get you in trouble if she found out.’ Her face fell as he told her that and her tears began streaming again. ‘No more tears Princess, please? Such a gorgeous girl should never feel the need to shed a tear.’ He reached up, taking her face in his hands and wiping her tears with his thumbs tenderly.

‘I’m sorry she did that to you! I wanted to talk to you so badly, everyday! She was so awful to my mom and I thought maybe I would be able to talk to you when we were older but she kept tabs on everything I ever did and now I’m being forced to go to this shitty fucking school and live on campus all alone, and suffocate under a course load that I didn’t want in the first place…I just wanted to paint…and the first time I think maybe I could actually not be completely alone here I get stood up by an asshole Frat jerk!’ Aemond had pulled her to his chest as soon as she started ranting, knowing she needs someone to be there for her and he was determined to make sure it was him. ‘And now I’m ranting to you when you clearly have places to be, I’m sorry!’ She tried to pull away but he didn’t let her, lifting her into his lap for good measure and smiling at the squeak that came from her when she was sat down on him.

‘None of that Princess, you have always been and will always be most important, and I finished my meeting. I’m all yours.’ He said it in a way that he hoped she would hear his dedication to her, and she did, she heard it and couldn’t help but hope he meant he really was all hers. ‘Do you have classes tomorrow?’ She shook her head, resting it against his chest and he felt his entire body heat up as he held her to him firmly, determined that no one would ever take her away again. ‘Okay, then here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go back to my place, you’re going to borrow some clothes and we’re going to order dinner-‘

‘No, you have things to do, you’re working here, I can’t-‘

‘No, I can’t! I can’t leave you like this, and I won’t, I will take care of you…you’re mine Princess.’ She looked up at him shocked and he tried his best to convey how hard it’s been without seeing her for the last 14 years. ‘I let them take you from me once, I won’t do it again now that I’ve found you…don’t make me let you go back to a dorm all alone…I won’t do it Y/n.’ She nodded her head quickly, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

‘I missed you so much Aemond, if you’re sure you’re not too busy-‘

‘I will never be too busy for you. My weekend is yours, come on.’ He helped her stand up but didn’t let go of her, keeping his arm around her waist as he took her bag and led her down to the parking lot where his car is waiting. Aemond opened the door and lifted her into the car, hearing her gasp as he man handled her in, not once complaining about it. The drive was quick back to his home, it was an apartment in a high rise building and he loved watching her eyes slowly widen as she watched the numbers on the elevator go up and up, all the way to the top.

‘You have a penthouse apartment?’ He nodded, smirking down at her and she shoved him playfully.

‘Surely you can’t forget how we live Y/n, you think my father would let me stay anywhere else. Even if I am the least favorite, he insists on a certain condition of living for his family…he would be appalled by your state by the way, and I’m sure once I tell him he will be fixing it-‘

‘What are you talking about? I’m already in a single dorm, I have everything I-‘

‘You shouldn’t be living in a dorm room with God knows how many other women all sharing a bathroom, you’re basically family-‘

‘But I’m not.’ She cut him off and he looked at her startled as he opened the door. ‘Look at this place Aemond! It’s an apartment and I could never afford something like this! I love that you think of me as a sister and your parents think of me like an honorary child but I’m not, I am a peasant compared to you and that will never change, we live in 2 different worlds Aemond.’ He stared at her, trying to calm himself before opening his mouth.

‘You loved being a part of our family…you never judged me for how I lived before-‘

‘I’m not judging you-‘

‘But you are! I don’t like the idea that you think we’re in 2 different worlds, because I never want to exist in a world where you are not beside me, you will never live like that again, not now that I’ve found you. And the fact that you think I ever thought of you like a sister…well it’s just disgusting.’ He explained, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers as lightly as possible before moving to the kitchen, putting her bag on the couch. ‘Now, what would you like for dinner? Are you still a pizza girl, or would you like Chinese? We can get burgers too.’ He offered, pulling out a burger place menu, knowing that’s what she would pick and she quickly did, her whole face red in a heavy blush.

They ordered dinner and Aemond had a man go and pick it up for them while they chose a scary movie to watch. Aemond had loaned her one of his Henley’s before getting her a pair of his boxers from the drawer and letting her change, throwing her clothes into the wash and not being able to stop the creepy stalker inside of him from smelling her panties before putting them in. He had to stop himself from jumping her the second he walked back into the room, seeing his Princess wearing his clothes and sitting in his bed clearly waiting for him.

He set the food down, handing her her chocolate milkshake before stripping to his boxers and climbing into the bed beside her. He saw her try to hide her reddening cheeks as she looked at him, staring at his muscular chest before tearing her eyes away. It wasn’t until he noticed her rubbing her legs together that he felt his cock begin to twitch. She was just as effected by him as he was by her and he was going to have her!

They talked through the movie while eating, getting to know each other, mostly her getting to know him but he asked questions to things he knows the answers to but shouldn’t, and he loved that no matter how personal, she never once lied to him about anything. After all this time she still felt completely comfortable with him.

‘Oh! Mother will be so excited to see you! Come here!’ He held up his phone and pulled her to him, taking a picture of them quickly with her back to his chest as his arm wrapped across her shoulder and torso, his face nuzzled against her hair. It smelled like mangos and pomegranates, everything about her was just perfect.

‘Wait! You’re shirtless! She’s gonna think-‘

‘What?’ He asked, smirking down at her, humor written all over his face as he waited for her to say it. ‘What is she going to think, Princess?’

‘Nothing, never mind.’ She rolled her eyes, leaning against him as the movie finished, Aemond now laying down on the pillows with her head on his chest as if they were children at a sleepover once again.

‘I really did miss you Y/n…there wasn’t one day that I didn’t think about you.’ He willed his cock to stop twitching as she traced her finger around his stomach.

‘I missed you too, I never forgot about you Aemond. You know, I often wondered how someone who had been in my life for such little time could be such a big part of it but you were…you are. I never stopped loving you.’ He took hold of her chin, turning her head to face him and traced her bottom lip with his thumb lightly.

‘I am never leaving you again…tell me you’re mine.’ She gasped quietly, hesitating only a moment before nodding. ‘I know you want me…tell me you’re mine Y/n…tell me.’

‘I’m yours-‘ He cut her off instantly, lips crashing to hers hard and pulling her against his chest firmly. One arm held her waist firmly while his other hand buried his fingers into her hair. He licked her bottom lip, his tongue instantly exploring her mouth as she parted them, sucking her tongue between his lips and making her giggle. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling the hair tie out and tugging it firmly prompting him to bite down on her lip roughly making her squeal.

‘Such fun noises you make, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wondered what you would sound like for me!’ He rolled on top of her, hauling her legs up around his waist and grinding his crotch against her.

‘Oh! Oh Fuck Aemond! Feels so good!’ She whined as he ground his hard cock down against her.

‘You have no idea Princess, I’m going to make you see stars.’ He swore, grabbing ahold of the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up and off of her. ‘So fucking perfect baby, perfect fucking tits!’ His lips wrapped around her rosy nipple, sucking hard and chuckling when her back arched up into him as he did this. He switched tits, pulling her hardened peak between his teeth teasingly before beginning to kiss and suck his way down her stomach, fingers catching on her boxers and pulling them down, throwing them off to the side of the bed. He took a pause, leaning back and looking down at her…Finally seeing his girl on his bed laid out for him…nothing could be sweeter. She closed her legs awkwardly, unsure why he stopped but he quickly caught them, yanking them apart again roughly. ‘No you don’t gorgeous! You’re mine, all mine. I’m allowed to look at what’s mine. All fucking mine.’ He growled, leaning back down and shoving his face between her legs, tasting her for the first time. Aemond lifted her legs onto his shoulders, sucking on her clit and grinning as he heard her loud, needy cries.

‘Fuck, yes! Please? Please Aemond, don’t stop?!’ Stop? Stop? What is Stop? He couldn’t define that word right now, it didn’t fucking exist to him as he flattened his tongue and traced it down to her hole, pushing into her and moaning at how tight his little cunt was for him. He peeked up at her as he began fucking into her with his tongue, his nose brushing against her clit and making her squeal. ‘Oh God!’

‘No!’ He cut her off, fingers rubbing hard at her clit as he looks up at her and she tries to pull away from the almost painful attention on her body. ‘Tonight, I am your God. Do you understand me? Tonight you pray to me while I worship this body. Yes?’

‘Yes! YES! Please God, Please?!’ She sobbed, tears falling from her eyes now as she teetered on the edge, so close and needing one last push.

‘Yes Princess.’ He moaned, pushing his long fingers into her and shoving her over that edge just as she needed, watching her face contort in ecstasy as she came, hips lifting off of the bed as she screamed.

‘Fuck Aemond!’

‘There’s my good girl! Cumming so good for me.’ He kissed his way back up her body, removing his boxers as he did and leaning against her, taking his thick cock in his hand and preparing to push himself into her. ‘How do you feel baby?’ She just moaned, nodding her head and pulling him down to kiss her and as she did he pressed his cock against her hole, driving his hips home and finding her cute little squeal completely adorable. ‘So good!’ Aemond groaned, pulling out and pushing into her again. ‘So fucking tight on me, aren’t you?’ She nodded, her mouth hanging open as if screaming but no sound was coming out. ‘Yes you are, so good to me, this little pussy loves my cock so much, feel how she’s pulsing around me? She knows my cock is the only one that can make you feel like this. The only one that ever will again.’ He had picked up his pace and was now slamming into her over and over again. ‘You’re mine now Princess, all mine! Mine to care for, mine to love, mine to fuck! Isn’t that right?’

‘Yes! Yes Aemond! All yours! Please, please never stop! Oh Fuck!’

‘No need to beg Baby.’ Tears were now leaking down her cheeks and he knew he had her just where he wanted her. He could get her to agree to anything he’d like. He felt her cunt tighten around him and watched her eyes roll up as she came around his cock, squeezing so good he could make a case for why this wasn’t Earth anymore but Heaven that they were tethered to. His thumb found her clit as he sat back, thrusting into her at a rapid pace and feeling his end approaching quickly, throwing her into another orgasm before allowing himself to finish, burying his cock inside of her as deeply as he could and filling her up. ‘That’s it. Good Girl, taking all of me so good. I’m gonna take you home, back to where you belong with our family. No more school you don’t want to be in, no more grandparents you despise, just you and me and all of the babies that I’m going to fill this body with. How does that sound?’ Y/n’s responding moan was answer enough for him, whether it was meant to be or not. ‘All mine now Princess…all mine.’

Aemond T. Masterlist

Stalker Aemond Moodboard

[ripdragonbeans]

Zeno's Paradox // modern!Aemond x reader (1/2)

•Aemond x Reader, Aemond x Floris, Jace x reader•

Summary: You and Aemond instantly clicked when you met at university. So why did he choose Floris instead of you?

TW (overall): afab reader, p in v, oral (f receiving), swearing, talk of violence, talk of losing a body part

A/N: Thank you @exitpursuedbyavulcan for being my beautiful beta ❤️ and listening to my ramblings lol

Part 2

Ever since your first year of university, you and Aemond have been best friends. Not only did you two hit it off right away but there was just this pull to him that you couldn't ignore.

Aemond was from an “old money” family, as outdated as that saying is. His father was a successful business man and his mother inherited the business when he passed. The passing of his father never really bothered him too much, or as far as you knew. He wasn't close to his older brother, Aegon, but he was on good terms with his sister, Helaena. Once they all moved out of the house everyone went their own ways, Aemond included.

The first year of university is always a terrifying one. Not only were you new to the school, but you were new to the city. You took it upon yourself to completely move on to a new life away from your unhealthy family.

Your very first class of your first day was Philosophy 101. You made your way to the classroom, finding it almost completely full. You thought being ten minutes early would be enough to choose your seat but that was a mistake on your part.

Looking around, you saw a total of five seats open. Granted, it was a small class so the options could be worse. You took a bet on the seat closest to the front; it even had an empty seat next to it. Normally, being front and center isn't your first choice but you thought this would give a good first impression to your professor. You just hoped that no one would take the seat next to you.

Eight minutes had passed and you released your breath. No one sat next to you. You smirked to yourself and bent down to pull out your laptop. When you came up, however, a new person was sitting next to you.

He leaned back in his chair looking like he'd been there for hours. His hair was a striking platinum blond and cascaded past his shoulders. Tapping his pen on his notebook, he sighed as if he didn't want to be here. From the angle you could see him, he had two different eye colors; one was a vibrant blue, with a harsh scar running from the bottom of his eyebrow to just above his cheekbone, and the other was violet. He gave off the vibe as someone who didn't give a shit.

You rolled your eyes at his chill demeanor, assuming he'd be someone you'd have to guard your work from. The assumption, however, was quick to be discarded.

When the professor entered the room all talk ceased. What you specifically noticed, however, is how the guy next to you immediately sat up straight. Feet were immediately flat on the ground, back erect, hands stilled with his pen ready to write. As class started you switched your focus from the platinum blond boy to the professor in front of the class.

The professor was a lighthearted man but still took his class seriously. For every ice breaker question was a serious one, attempting to get a gauge on the knowledge of the class. You answered a few ice breaker questions, finding them fun and entertaining, but you were hesitant to answer the serious ones. The blond, on the other hand, avoided the ice breaker questions but was very eager to answer the ones focused on psychology. Every time he answered a question you had to hide your eye roll.

Of course he would be attractive and smart.

You shook your head and tried to banish the thought. Yes, he was attractive, that was for sure, but you couldn’t start your university experience crushing on a guy you’ve never even had a conversation with. No, this was supposed to jump start the beginning of your new life. This wasn’t high school anymore. No more crushing.

Back and forth was the banter between the professor and the platinum blond guy. He answered every question quickly and concisely, never to beat around the bush. Still, refused to answer any questions that would give away any information about himself. That little detail intrigued you. You understood not wanting to say anything about yourself, at least voluntarily, but absolutely saying nothing was a little odd to you.

The last round of questions, the professor told the class, was to be a speed round between two students. He looked around the class before his eyes stopped on you and then the blond boy. Being pitted against the attractive blond was not on your list of what to expect on your first day of university.

You looked at him with a smirk. “May the best win.”

He didn’t even give you a verbal response, merely a nod paired with a smirk.

The last few minutes of class was a packed one. Students picked sides, you or the blond. It was exhilarating. The professor fired off his questions in quick succession. You knew you were good but this blond next to you was better.

“Last question,” the professor began. “What is the answer to the trolley problem?”

The question barely left the professor’s mouth when the blond boy gave his answer, “There is no answer. Either run over one or run over three. Choose your guilt.”

You stared at him, mouth agape. Of course he’d have an answer for the trolley question. Such a basic question with such an answer but he was still able to answer it faster than you.

“I won’t say if that’s right but it’s certainly an answer,” the professor said. “Now get out, time for maybe your next class! I don’t know, I don’t know all of your schedules. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

Almost everyone got up at one time, quick to collect their things and head out to whatever was next for. You were no different than them, packing up your things, but you did so with a smile on your face. It was a good first class of university. You smiled thinking of the last few minutes of class and how exciting it was. Pulling your backpack over your shoulder, you made your way out of the classroom and into the hallway, on your way to your next class. You managed to get in a few steps before you noticed someone walking right in step with you.

“Good game.”

You turned to see the platinum blond guy walking next to you.

“Yeah, sure good game,” you scoffed. “You got the last question so I do applaud you.” You smiled at him.

“Well, I’m Aemond. Figured you might want to put a name to a face. Also I thought it might be nice to have one friend while I’m here.”

You gave him your name. “One friend? Well, I’m honored to be the one.”

The two of you walked in silence before you asked him where he was off to next.

“Oh, I have Literature next,” he answered,

“Guess we’re heading the same way then,” you told him.

The two of you shared a smile when he leaned down.

“I’ll still beat you in every class,” he whispered.

You looked him straight in the eye. “We’ll see about that, Aemond.”

His name felt nice on your tongue. It was comfortable, something that seemed familiar even though you’ve never said it before.

Continuing your way to class, the two of you made some small talk. Once arriving at the classroom you took seats next to each other.

This professor was not really no nonsense, but more like she was ready to retire. Her fire for her class wasn’t there. Throughout the class you and Aemond made eye contact, having your own conversation of how boring this class was. It was a lot of eye rolling and eyebrow raises.

“Excuse me, do either of you have anything to say regarding Lysistrata?”

“Um…” Aemond blanked at being caught.

Guess this doesn’t happen to him much.

You smiled smugly to yourself at the thought.

“I think there’s nothing too deep about Lysistrata, to be honest. It’s supposed to be a comedy. All this crossdressing is just supposed to be funny.”

“And who said it was all cross dressing?” The professor asked, hand on her hip.

“It's an ancient Greek play. If it were actually put on during that time period it was usually just guys dressed up. Maybe they weren’t as obvious but they were still dudes playing women,” you said matter-of-factly.

The professor’s lips thinned as she nodded and took your answer. You smirked knowing you got under her skin. Looking over at Aemond you saw the amusement in his eyes. You winked at him before turning your attention back to your professor who was very obviously done with your bullshit.

The rest of the class passed uneventfully, just a few less eye rolls because apparently you and Aemond were not subtle at all. Class droned on and on. The professor let her bad mood get in the way of her teaching so she was snippy with every question asked. Eventually, you goaded Aemond on enough to ask a question.

He raised his hand. “So, professor,” he began, “what is your take on, um, authors putting themselves in their work. Is it valid?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course it isn’t valid. It’s lazy writing to write about yourself in a fictional matter.”

“Are you saying that Dante’s Inferno is not a valid piece of work?” Aemond smirked.

The professor’s face blanched. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. I mean-”

“You just said that it isn’t a valid piece of literature. Dante’s Inferno is one of the most studied pieces of work yet it is obvious that Dante is inserting himself into his own story.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she waved him off.

“So you’re just going to dismiss it? I thought I saw it on the syllabus that we’d be studying it later this year and -”

“Yes, later this year, so please let’s wait until then, shall we? Thank you mister…”

“Targaryen. Mister Aemond Targaryen.”

If it were possible she paled even more. She simply nodded and went back to her lecture. Much like your professor, your eyes widened when you heard the name as well. Targaryen. Aemond was part of the Targaryen family, one of the richest and most prosperous business companies out there. It's been one day and the one friend you've made will probably be one of the most powerful men in business.

Class soon ended after Aemond’s smartass question; which was one of the best things you've ever witnessed. Aemond finished packing up his things, well his one notebook and pen, and waited for you to gather yours.

“That was an entertaining class,” he smirked. “Loved your comment on Lysistrata, I mean, you were right.”

“You were such a menace, it was great,” you laughed.

The two of you walked out in step with each other and joked about the class. If this was how each Literature class was going to be, it was going to be an entertaining semester.

Unlike the first two classes your schedules diverted from each other. You went to your next class, Latin, alone. There was no real reason to take the class except to earn the credit. The first class was basic introductions about declensions and such, breaking it down to the barest of bones. It was interesting, you got to learn about the history of Rome as well, something that has always piqued your interest.

You were hoping to meet up with Aemond again around lunch time even though you two never made a plan. Walking through the cafeteria you looked at the many options of food. All of them not looking so appealing. You settled on a safety food, pizza. After you grabbed your pizza you sat down at an empty table, hoping for either no one or a specific someone to pull up a chair. Instead of Aemond, however, a guy with wavy dark brown hair took his seat across from you.

“Sorry, there's really nowhere else to sit. Mind if I?” He asked.

“Um, sure. Seat’s not taken so you're all good,” you said.

Another attractive guy. Great.

You shook your head from the thought. At least you were willing to admit it this time. It took the entirety of the philosophy class to admit to yourself that Aemond is very attractive.

“My name's Jace, by the way,” he offered a little wave. “First year student, not really focusing on anything, just getting a generalized degree as of now.”

“I'm majoring in philosophy,” you replied and gave him your name.

You felt the presence behind you before you heard him.

“And I'm Aemond,” he practically growled. He turned to you. “This guy bothering you with his inadequacy?”

“No, he's -”

“I'm just trying to be friendly,” you were cut off by Jace, whose eyes were now hard.

“Yeah, I know plenty well how you can be friendly, Strong,” Aemond spat out.

Jace got up from his seat. “I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond’s cruel smile spread across his face but you interrupted them before either of them could do anything stupid.

“Okay!” You interjected. “I can see that there's some bad blood so let's just take a breather.” You turned to Jace. “I guess I'll see you around.” You turned to Aemond. “Let's go, you obviously need to cool off.”

“I don't need to cool down,” Aemond argued, “I just need to know he's never going to bother you again,” he looked pointedly at Jace.

“Relax, Aemond, it's no big deal. Let's just go.”

You pulled him along to get out of the cafeteria and to the adjacent building.

“What was that about?” You asked.

Aemond shrugged his shoulders. “It's…complicated. I don't want to get too into it but our families aren't exactly the best of friends.”

You raked your brain trying to remember if there were any other competitors when it came to the Targaryen business but none came to mind.

“I won't push you but I'll take your word for it, Aemond.”

Silence hung in the air, comfortable enough but not too comfortable.

“Where are you off to next?” You broke the spell.

“I actually have to meet up with my mother to go through some business things. Since my siblings don't really want to take the family company it's landed on me,” he sighed. He looked tired.

“If that's the case then I'll see you tomorrow, then? Maybe breakfast?”

“Maybe,” he pondered for a moment. “At least we know for sure we'll see each other on Wednesdays.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Well, I'll see you then, mister Aemond Targaryen.”

“Please, just call me Aemond. It's way too fancy to put mister in front of my name and tag along my last name.”

“Whatever,” you bumped his shoulder.

With one last laugh Aemond left you to your own devices as he went off campus. Luck just had it that your dorm was in the same direction he was going. When you saw his vehicle, however, your mouth dropped.

Of course he rides a fucking motorcycle.

It was a sleek black with a personalized license plate on it that read “Vhagar.” Aemond walked up next to it and ran his hand down the body of the bike before turning to his helmet. He pulled his hair back in a low ponytail before grabbing the helmet and putting it under his arm.

You didn't think he could see you but he turned around and made eye contact with you, giving you a knowing wink. Your cheeks heated up and you gave him a smile and a nod before making the rest of your way to your dorm building.

Walking back to your dorm you couldn't help but think about Aemond Targaryen and how lucky you’ve been to befriend him, on the first day of classes, no less. Already the academic year was looking up and you couldn't wait for the rest of it.

Tuesday came and went. You didn't see Aemond except for a brief time at lunch. The two of you quickly exchanged the encounters of your classes before his alarm went off to head to another class. Who you did see for a decent amount of time was Jace.

You had just taken a seat in one of your elective classes, Eyes of the Seven. It intrigued you. Never being a religious person yourself, you found the depths of religions to be interesting, to say the least.

Pulling out your laptop once again, you felt someone sit beside you. Excitedly, you turned to them, assuming the person to be Aemond. Instead, it was Jace who occupied the seat next to you. Your smile slowly dropped to an unimpressed sneer.

“Oh, it's you,” you said.

“Yup, it's me,” Jace replied. Despite your cold demeanor he kept up a kind face. “I'm sorry about yesterday, I didn't know my cousin would come in and cause trouble.”

Cousin?

“I didn't realize you two were related. He called you Strong.”

Jace tensed up. “Technically by blood, yes, I am a Strong, but I am also a Targaryen from my mother's side.”

Strong. You've heard that name before and now it clicked.

“Your side of the family is trying to get rid of Aemond's mother as head of the company,” you explained.

Jace looked sheepish. “That's one way to put it, I guess. It's complicated.”

“Sure, complicated.”

“While I wouldn't mind explaining the whole family fiasco to you, I believe our class is about to begin.”

The professor walked in the room, his presence demanding.

“Welcome to Eyes of the Seven. This will not be an easy class. Take your notes and you should be fine. Don't take them, and suffer the consequences,” he clapped his hands. “Let's get started, shall we?”

Unlike your classes from yesterday, there was no fun banter, no competitive knowledge game, no wise ass comments. In fact, you found yourself to be quite bored. You tapped your fingers absentmindedly as you listened to the lecture.

“Not as interesting as you thought?” Came a whisper from Jace.

“No, not really. Now shut up, I'm trying to listen.”

Jace chuckled; a sound that made you want to punch him. While you didn't know him very well, not Aemond, you still took Aemond’s side. You couldn't deny that there was something that intrigued you about Jace as well, though. Maybe it was his genuine kindness and desire to become a friend. Either way, you'd figure it out.

Wednesday came and you couldn't be more excited to start the day. You woke up feeling great, you did a little stretching; this day was going to be a good one. Picking out your outfit, you couldn't help but think about Aemond. Oddly enough, Jace popped in every now and then as well and you tried to shake away those thoughts. As you picked up your things and headed for the door, you thought about more snide comments you could make in Literature class.

When you arrived at Philosophy 101 Aemond was already in his seat. Next to him was a backpack in your seat.

“Did you save this just for me?” You sarcastically batted your eyelashes.

“Don't want to be stuck next to someone inferior, so yeah,” Aemond shrugged, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face.

The professor strolled in. “Now that we know a little more about each other, time to get to the nitty gritty.” He announced.

You raised an eyebrow at Aemond and gave him a sly smile. Another day, another challenge. You and Aemond have made an unspoken agreement that each class you shared together would be a competition. No high stakes, just bragging rights and pride. It was simply a way to entertain the semester and keep it rolling.

“First, for this year, Plato and his Allegory of the Cave. Can anyone tell me about it?” The professor asked.

Your hand shot up in the air, just a hair faster than Aemond's.

The words spilled out of your mouth. “The allegory of the cave is basically if you keep people confined and away from any new material, they will never grow as people and be simply ignorant of everything except for what they have been told.”

“Interesting. Anyone else?”

Aemond's hand lazily went up when no other hand did.

“It can also be viewed as ignorance is bliss, refusing to look and explore the world around you.” Aemond sat back in his chair.

“Excellent, I love these two takes!” Exclaimed the professor.

The rest of class was spent delving into Plato and some of his other theories. You and Aemond took turns answering questions, which the professor found to be very amusing. There was a twinkle in his eye, something you found to be suspicious.

“While it's the first week of classes, it's on your syllabus, so don't get too upset about it. Your project on Plato will be done in pairings and is due at the beginning of the mid-semester finals. I trust you all to pick your own partners, it's not high school. I'm sure some of you already have someone in mind,” he winked at you with the last sentence. “Dismissed!”

Aemond was out of the room before you, leaning on the wall, waiting.

“When do you want to start, partner?” He asked.

“You're not even going to ask me? Just assume?” you scoffed.

“Was there someone else in mind? I didn't see anyone else asking you,” There was a challenge in his eyes.

“Well, maybe,” you started, “I was going to ask Jace. Professor never said it had to be with someone in the same section.”

Aemond's eyes narrowed. “Don't joke with me.”

“Relax, I'm not going to ask him. He doesn't hold a candle against you,” you reassured him.

“Of course I'm better than him. Oh, look, your favorite class.”

You rolled your eyes at your arrival in the Literature classroom.

“Let's get this over with,” you muttered.

The class, much to your dismay, was boring. No opportunities for snide comments. It was really a lot of that silent conversation you'd have with Aemond through the hour and forty five minutes. There were no surprise projects announced, either, so the two of you ended your two classes together on a fairly blase note.

Since Tuesday, you've been able to avoid Jace but since it was Thursday it was inevitable. You didn't even wait for him to initiate the conversation; you just wanted to get it over with.

“Hey, Jace,” you said as he sat down.

“Oh, hey. I didn't think you'd bother to say anything to me.”

“Figured I'd start it as soon as I could do it'll stop sooner, too.”

Jace cocked his head. “Thank you?”

The professor entered and class began. Just like Tuesday, it was long and boring.

“Am I really that terrible?” Asked Jace when class ended.

“I mean, Aemond seems to dislike you enough so that's my reason.”

“You haven't even known him for a week and you're already taking his advice on people? Not a smart choice.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” you rolled your eyes.

“One conversation without talking of my family, Aemond included. That’s all I ask.”

You looked at him, trying to get a gauge on whether or not he was playing you. He looked sincere, so you took a shot.

“Fine, I’ll take the bait. Tell me about yourself, Jace.”

Jace cleared his throat. “I am Jace Velaryon. I have two younger brothers, Luke and Joffrey. My brother, Luke, and I are close. We’d do anything for each other. I’m loyal at heart and I put those I care about above my own self. While I’m only going for a GED right now, I do have plans for my future that I can’t quite share with anyone yet,” he smirked. “Am I doing good?”

“Are you doing good? I mean, I’m less curious about your home life and who you are more as a person but you seem to be avoiding that.”

“Tough crowd, I see.”

“Unless there’s anything else you want to tell me, I’d like to go, offense partly intended.”

“Okay,” he skirted around you to stop you from leaving. “There’s this. I am apparently very charming.”

Jace gave you the biggest shit eating grin, it was something that was enough to stop you in your tracks.

“You got me there. I guess I do find you…charming in some sort of way. Fine, we’re friends.”

“Hey, at least you don’t hate me simply because of Aemond. That’s a win in my book.”

“I’ll probably still take Aemond’s side for most things, but, yeah, sure.”

“Awesome, I’ll see you around, bestie,” Jace called as he ran away.

What a weird dude.

At least you have one other friend now. That’s better than just having Aemond but it wouldn’t have bothered you. You and Aemond got along pretty well. It was like finding a long lost soulmate or something. You shook your head. You shouldn’t be thinking along those kinds of lines, you could end up hurt.

When the weekend arrived you took the time to take care of yourself. Taking care of yourself also meant some quality alone time, which you thankfully had since you didn’t have a roommate. You were supposed to but she dropped out at the last minute, leaving your roommate-less.

You dimmed the lights and got out your favorite little bullet vibrator and laid down on the bed. After a long week, you needed this. Between moving in and going to new places and being in just a new environment overall had you tense. Pulling your panties down, you turned on your vibrator to its lowest setting. You sighed as you put against yourself, the vibrations being familiar and calming. But you wanted more.

You stripped off your shirt and bra and upped the speed on the vibrator. One hand moved to clutch your chest and play with your nipples. You sighed and started grinding against the vibrator. It all felt so good. You haven’t felt this way in months.

More.

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillows. Your mouth opened with a strained moan. You couldn’t make too much noise, if any, living in a dorm. In your head there was someone. Violet eyes. Platinum blond hair. Aemond.

Fuck, you could feel him. His hands on you, his smart ass mouth on your own.

More. You turned up the speed one more time.

Your hips bucked against the vibrator, your other hand pinching your nipples. Fuck. It was so much.

“More,” you whispered. “Please, more.”

You felt it, that coil in your stomach, tighten, ready to snap at any second. You moved faster against the vibrator. Your other hand left your chest and went to your mouth. Biting your hand, you tried your best to stay quiet but it was just so good. It felt so good.

With one last switch of the vibrator, it was at full blast. Your whole body was shaking, everything was on fire. Your clit was so sensitive, you could feel everything.

And it was perfect.

It was almost here, that coil was about to snap.

“Please, please, please, FUCK!”

You came with yourself making a mess of the bed.

Lazily, you rolled over and turned off the vibrator. You knew you had to get up and clean everything but you wanted to catch your breath more.

Still in your haze, you murmured his name. “Fuck, Aemond.”

It was then that your eyes snapped open and the post orgasm haze went away. You quickly got up to take a shower, making sure it was as cold as you could take it. The water ran down your back and it felt refreshing, like a wakeup call. It was only the first full week. You shouldn’t be having thoughts like this.

Or maybe you should.

The weekend was uneventful as you really just took the time to vegetate and do nothing. It was a lot of work, getting through the first week of classes. You thought about the possibilities of how this year could go. Best case scenario is that Aemond and Jace don't kill each other. Worst case is that they both leave you, resulting in you being lonely and friendless. You tried to keep those thoughts out of your mind. This year would be a good one.

You and Aemond were sitting in the cafeteria going over your Plato project.

“Okay, but he said here that actors are basically liars,” you told him.

“He also said that everything they do is fake, pretty basic thinking, in my opinion,” Aemond said.

Back and forth the two of you went, getting annoyed with Plato in general.

“Why can’t I just hit him?” you groaned, putting your head down.

Aemond sighed. “Because he’s dead, remember?”

“Yeah, but I still want to hit him. Some of the theories and thoughts are ridiculous.”

“There, there,” he awkwardly patted your head.

After a few moments of whining on your part, you finally lifted your head up again to get back to work. All was going well, good progress was being made, until a certain brown-haired guy came bounding up to you.

“Hey, guys! What’d I miss?” Jace plopped himself down into the chair next to you.

“Jace…” you warned him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Aemond all but shouted.

“I’m friends with this one here,” Jace pointed at you, “so I wanted to see her.”

Aemond turned to you. “You two are friends?”

“I can be friends with Jace, Aemond,” you crossed your arms.

Aemond tapped his pencil against the table. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“What’s made you so pissy about it?”

“Maybe you should ask Aemond what happened when we were thirteen,” Jace interjected. He was taunting Aemond.

Aemond’s face drained of color as he looked down. You could see that whatever Jace was alluding to was not a good thing.

“Go ahead,” Jace leaned forward. “Ask him what happened to his eye.”

“His eye? There’s nothing wrong with his eye,” you said while looking straight at Jace.

“You’ve never wondered why he has two different eye colors, why one doesn’t move like the other?”

“Honestly, I just thought he had heterochromia and a lazy eye.”

Aemond focused on Jace. “Go on, Aemond, tell your friend about the time you lost your eye.”

You turned to Aemond, finding him to look embarrassed. He was looking down and he was wringing his hands together on top of the table. Something was obviously bothering him.

“Don’t push him to do something he doesn’t want to do.”

“Fine, Aemond, if you won’t tell her, I will.”

If it were even possible, more color drained from Aemond’s face.

“It happened when we were thirteen. We were playing outside, you know, how kids do, when he got into a fight with some of our other cousins -”

“It was supposed to be fun, we were all supposed to be playing around,” Aemond quickly said.

“Ah, yes, I forgot how fun it is to have your eye torn out of your head.”

“It wasn’t torn out of my head!”

“You don’t get to fucking say what happened. You’re lucky I even gave you the chance to tell your side of the story, but you denied that as well.”

Aemond shut his mouth but kept a deadly glare on Jace.

“Long story short, my little brother, Luke, thought it would be fun to take a knife and use it as a dagger,” Jace said.

“You forgot the part where you gave him the knife,” Aemond whispered.

Jace ignored his comment. “Little Luke thought it would be funny to actually try to hit someone with the knife and he did. You can still see the scar -”

“- I was stitched up and told it wasn’t too big of a deal,” Aemond interrupted. “Luke got all the hugs and was told that it was an accident and that everything would be okay. For him, I guess it was. I got a scar and a fake blue eye out of it because they couldn’t give me one that matches my natural eye color.”

What. The. Fuck.

The silence was thick and all you could do was sit in it. There was nothing that you could do or say that would make the tension dissipate or to fix what was a mess between these two. Aemond and Jace were staring at each other as though one of them were about to get up and punch the other. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if it would be Aemond to beat up Jace.

“And you’ve been going around with no guilt in your head?” you asked Jace.

“I admit I have some guilt but not so much after what happened later.”

“And what happened later?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Aemond will actually tell this story -”

“Later.” Aemond cut him off.

“No, I think she deserves to know what kind of company she keeps if she still wants to consider you a friend.”

“No, I’ll tell her later, not here,” Aemond practically begged.

With no emotion in his voice, Jace said, “Aemond ran over Luke while riding Vhagar.”

“I didn’t mean to run over him.” Aemond’s voice was broken.

“Just like how he didn’t mean to take your eye.”

“He wanted to race!” Aemond stood up. “I lost control! It was raining and I couldn’t see anything!”

“...Is Luke alive?” you tentatively asked.

“Yes,” Jace replied. “He’s alive, Traumatized, but alive.” He leaned back in his chair. “Well, there you go, that’s Aemond. Still want to be friends with him?”

You looked at Aemond. He was still standing; breathing hard. Reliving it all, hearing it all again must have been terrible for him. You locked eyes with him and didn’t see anger towards you, but desperation.

“Yes. I still want to be friends with Aemond.”

You saw his body relax.

“And me?”

“You’re on thin ass ice, Jace. If it weren’t for you giving your brother a knife Aemond might still have an eye. But I think we're done here, tonight. I’ll see you around, Jace,” you dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

Once Jace left and you packed your things, you held out a hand and urged Aemond to take it. Slowly but surely, he took it. His hand was big and calloused but warm and comfortable. Your hand fit perfectly in his, almost like they were made for eachother.

“I’ll walk you back to your motorcycle,” you told him.

He merely nodded in response.

You weren’t expecting him to say anything else. He was obviously shaken by what was re-lived in just a few minutes and he certainly wasn’t expecting to do so any time soon. What Jace did was cruel, something you didn't think he'd do. He seemed so nice but when it came to Aemond all of that went out the window.

You squeezed his hand. “You okay?”

Aemond rubbed his face with his other hand. “Honestly? Not at all. Wasn't expecting that but it's whatever. I'll be fine.”

Together you walked in silence. When you arrived at his motorcycle he slipped his hand out of yours.

“Hey, be safe, okay?” You told him.

“Yeah,” was all he said before putting on his helmet and riding away.

You watched him all the way until you couldn't see him anymore. Since he left, all you could think about was Jace and his stupid choices. You'd get back at him though, it was a promise.

The next few weeks you spent snubbing Jace as much as possible. You made it a point to ignore him and to show that you were ignoring him. Aemond hung around you more often, looking for times outside of your usual classes to be with you. The Plato project the two of you have been working on has flourished. There would be no doubt that you'd both be passing with flying colors.

What was odd, however, was that he'd space out every now and then. Whenever you caught him you'd tease him about some imaginary girl he must be making up. He'd just smile and wave you off, saying it was nothing and that if it was something he'd tell you. You weren't quite sure how to make of that. You and Aemond weren't together but you'd be lying if you said you weren't slowly catching feelings for him.

Philosophy was always filled with playful banter and challenges. The professor himself found them to be very entertaining. He'd purposely pit you against Aemond, which was both embarrassing and exhilarating. Some classes you'd win, others he would. Either way, each class ended in good faith with a solid discussion on the lecture. Literature, sadly, was not as fun, but still very entertaining. You and Aemond were hell-bent on being absolute menaces in the class. Granted, you found the professor there to be incompetent so you'd both try to challenge her as often as possible.

“I can't believe you actually said that,” you laughed as you and Aemond made your way to the cafeteria.

“What? It was good obvious she didn't know what she was talking about, so I corrected her,” Aemond shrugged.

You bumped your shoulder against his. It's been about two months since the beginning of the semester and it was practically the halfway mark. Once again you caught yourself thanking whatever gods existed for placing Aemond in your life. Not only that but you couldn't have asked for a better project partner. It turned out to be something you were proud of, something you and Aemond created together with your brilliant minds. You two together just made sense, intellectually only, of course.

“I'm gonna go grab some food. Claim a table for us?” he was handing you his notebooks.

“Yeah, don't worry about me,” you called out to his fading figure.

You laughed to yourself as you went to your unofficially assigned table that you always sat at. You and Aemond always took turns getting food first, refusing to leave your things unaccompanied. While it wasn't common, and there wasn't much to steal from either of you, you figured it was better safe than sorry. You tapped your fingers on the table. You were getting hungry. Standing up, you craned your neck to find Aemond, which wasn't exactly hard. You saw him, with his food as expected, but he was looking down at a girl, a smile playing on his lips.

You didn't like that. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach. You and Aemond never hinted at anything but you thought you were getting closer. Your feelings were definitely becoming more apparent as the time you spent with him increased. It was only when you saw both the mystery girl and Aemond walk towards the table that you sat down and pretended to look busy.

Aemond came up to the table, smiling in a way that warmed your heart. He never smiled at you like that.

“Hey, this is Floris. She's in one of my other classes and I wanted you two to meet,” he said.

“Oh, hi,” you introduced yourself to her and forced a smile, hoping it didn't look fake.

“It's so nice to meet you! Aemond has told me so much about you!” Her eyes smiled when she turned to look at him.

“Wow, that's so cool. I've, um, never heard anything about you,” you awkwardly offered.

“That's so weird, Aemond and I are so close!” She placed her free hand on Aemond’s arm.

It was barely noticeable but you saw his cheeks heat up just a bit. He looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

“...You're close?”

“Oh, when we were younger our parents knew each other and they wanted so badly for us to date. Remember that, Aemond?”

“Earth to Aemond?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Yeah, I mean she's not just from class. We just so happened to meet up again after years of being apart. My mother, specifically, told us we should date. She wanted our families to be closer.”

“And, actually, his mother’s wish came true!” Floris interlocked her fingers with Aemond. “He just asked me out!”

You stated at them. This couldn't be happening. “You asked her out in the cafeteria?”

“Not the most romantic place, I admit, but I couldn't wait. We were beating around the bush for a while.”

You forced a smile. “Congrats, guys. I think I'm actually gonna head back to my dorm.”

Aemond stopped you as you got up from your seat. “You're not going to eat?”

“I'm not feeling well. I think I'll just lay down. I'll see you guys later.”

You schooled your face into what you hoped was a neutral expression and quickly walked out the cafeteria hugging your backpack to your chest.

This can't be happening.

Aemond can't actually be dating someone. You swore up and down that it was fake, that it was a joke he was pulling on you. As you walked back to your dorm your mind filled with images of Aemond with Floris. Aemond and Floris on a date; Aemond and Floris kissing; Aemond and Floris together on Vhagar; Aemond and Floris making out. It was too much. Tears burned, threatening to spill, but it wasn't until you were safe in your bed you let the flow and mourned for what was never to happen.

The time came for you and Aemond to turn in your project and unsurprisingly you two passed easily.

“We did it!” You exclaimed.

The two of you were claiming your table in the cafeteria.

“We're a good team, you know that,” he pulled you into a hug.

Aemond doesn't hug you often, he doesn't hug often in general, so you savored this moment. You took in a deep breath and inhaled his cologne. For just a few seconds you could pretend it was you he was dating and not Floris.

You heard her before he let you go.

“Did you guys pass?” Floris yelled from across the room.

Aemond waited until she was within arms reach then pulled her in for a quick kiss. Your heart broke at the sight.

“Yeah, we did!” He smiled at her. That same smile you never got.

“I'm so happy for you both! I know you've worked your butts off.”

Butts. Because of course Floris doesn't swear.

You gave her a painful smile.

“Well I'm gonna grab my food and head to my dorm and eat there,” you told them.

They were too busy snuggling together and looking into each other's eyes to fully comprehend what you said.

Aemond practically dismissed you. “Yeah, I'll see you around.”

You did as you said you would, you got your food then went to your dorm. Watching them cuddle while you were eating would make you throw up. The thought of it almost makes you want to.

You didn't understand. You and Aemond were getting closer. There were even moments where you swore they might have been signs that he liked you. The small touches on your arms when you were studying; him putting his forehead on your shoulder when he was frustrated. It would make sense that he was flirting with you but it turned out to be false.

You don't know how long he was talking to Floris but it was enough for them to rekindle whatever they had when they were younger. The way he looked at her was the way you longed for him to look at you. He said that his mother wanted to bring the two families closer together, whatever that meant. You assumed it had to do with bringing the two companies together. Whatever his mother planted in his head took hold and he held on to that.

All of this made you feel sick. Every night all you wanted to do was cry and hug yourself. Nothing made you feel better, not even self care nights, and you tried. You tried so hard. So many things reminded you of him, specifically anything that had to do with psychology. You couldn't even think about homework without thinking of him. Movies would remind you of him. Romantic comedies used to be a source of comfort but now it just reminded you of how lonely you were.

Since Aemond and Floris started dating he didn't hang around you much. The only times you would even be able to interact with just him was during your psychology and literature classes. Even then, though, things were off. Your banter wasn't as exciting anymore and he made less and less witty comments in literature every week until he wasn't saying anything at all. Dating Floris changed him and you didn't like it one bit.

You were on your way to your philosophy class when you saw them. Floris was pushed up against the wall as Aemond trapped her in a passionate kiss. His hands were roaming up and down the side of her body and you could hear their soft moans. It broke your heart so badly you felt it in your chest. You made the decision to skip class that day. The pain of sitting next to Aemond would be too much to bear.

As you quickly walked away from the scene before you, you ran into Jace. Unluckily for you, there were tears streaming down your face. You couldn't help it; the dam broke.

Despite your disgust at Jace for what happened in Aemond’s past, you'd be lying if you said you still didn't find him charming. He was still kind to you, the times you've interacted in class.

“Woah, hey there. What's wrong?” Jace caught you by your arms.

“Fuck off, it's nothing,” you tried to get him to leave.

“You don't show negative emotions. You don't cry. Will you let me be a good person and help you?”

Torn between leaving him and telling him, you found the need to have a friend, to have someone to talk to, more pressing.

“Aemond. Aemond and Floris. That's what happened.”

“Ah, yes. I heard about that. Can't say I'm surprised, though.”

“Gee, thanks for the pep talk.”

“You're upset that they're dating?”

“Me crying about it doesn't make it obvious? Use your fucking eyes, Jace.”

“You fell for Aemond, didn't you?” There was a twinkle in his eye.

“I…yes. I - I think I did.”

“From what I remember when we were younger, Aemond was only friendly with Floris, nothing else. He's stupid not to choose you,” he cupped your face in his hand and wiped a tear away.

You looked at him with big eyes.

Why would he comfort me?

“I have an idea,” Jace started.

You gave him a wary look.

“Let's show Aemond what he's missing.”

You cocked your head. “What are you suggesting?”

“Be my girlfriend. Well, not really. Be my fake girlfriend. I don't mind pissing off Aemond and this certainly will.”

“You want us to fake date?”

“Yes, I thought that was clear.”

You took a moment to think it though. Dating Jace would certainly make Aemond upset. As far as you knew he still considered you a friend, however distant he may be.

Closing your eyes, you made your decision. “I'll fake date you, Jace.”

A smile spread across his face.

“With conditions!”

“Of course.”

You cleared your throat. “Only in public are we dating. Once we're in our dorms the fake is gone and we're not dating anymore, so no need for couple-y texts or anything and we’re absolutely not sleeping together.”

“I can do that, though the no sleeping together part kinda makes me sad.”

“Shut up,” you continued on, I'm okay with PDA as long as you're not groping me or trying to swallow my soul through my mouth.”

“So, kisses are okay?”

“Little ones. Have to make it believable, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, makes sense.”

“Then we're good.”

You held out your hand for him to shake it.

“A handshake?”

“It's a plan, a deal of some sort, so yes. Now shake my damn hand.”

Jace extended his and clasped his hand with yours.

“I'll see you around, girlfriend,” Jace gave you a quick smile before heading off to his dorm.

Watching Jace walk away, you thought of the plan you just agreed to. Fake dating. You hoped this would work. Aemond was protective of those he cared about, that you knew. So you dating someone he loathes might be enough for him to wake up. On one hand you felt a little bad for Floris, she deserved to find happiness as well, but you wanted Aemond, the one you fell in love with. Floris can find someone else.

[two-white-butterflies]

parallel lines | d. targaryen | part six

Description: An ordinary middle school teacher moves to a desolate town with her fiancee. After suffering episodes of vivid nightmares, she realizes that his uncle looks exactly like the man in her dreams.

Pairings: daemon targaryen/reader, aemond targaryen/reader

Trope: Reincarnation

series masterlist |

<<previous chapter

"To hold on, to the days when you were mine." - Peter, Taylor Swift.

These past few days, something has deeply changed in Daemon's psyche. He was always a neat freak, preferring to remain polished and clean on the outside while his mind was an overgrowth of plants that clouded his thoughts. He couldn't think straight then - but he kept a facade, pretending that he was sane. He wasn't.

Since seeing you in St. Joseph, he's lost all remnants of himself - the facade broke down and he was thrown into disarray. "Why is your shirt always untucked?" you chuckled, taking a step forward, as if it was second nature to fix his polo and tuck it into his pants.

"I was rushing," he found himself mumbling, confused at your sudden proximity to him. How long has it been since he's felt you? Had his fingers dance against your skin and body? You were always warm, and that was all he remembered about you.

Everything seemed to zone out in the background. He almost forgot that he was in a parking lot, and the sound of cars zoomed past him. All he could see was you, all that he could hear was you. He takes a deep breath, quickly composing himself.

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, Rhaenyra herself even admitted that it was wrong. We shouldn't have fought in front of a guest." he apologized, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "If I'm lucky, I won't be a guest for long." you teased, fixing the strap of the handbag on your shoulder. "Mhm." was all he could muster.

The thought of you being married to his nephew made him want to puke. It made him want to kill himself.

He senses the awkwardness, he decides to clear his throat and look at his watch. "I guess this is goodbye. I'm running late for a meeting." he lied, staring at the side. "Of course, nice talking to you." you answered, equally as awkward as his intonation.

"See you tomorrow?" he smiled, walking past you.

"See you tomorrow." you replied, but he was too far to hear.

(ISLAND NEAR THE GHISCARIS)

Your mother descended from a long line of voyagers. Her family remained in Lyss, and life led her to Westeros. The skill of voyaging was long lost. You couldn't command a ship, even if your life depended on it - luckily, you were able to meet a group of female pirates on their way to the liberated islands near the Ghiscari Empire.

It was untouched due the large wall-like fortress that surrounded the shores. "I am surprised by your aptitude, not a lot of people appreciate the oceans well." Serenei, the woman that promised to keep you safe, handed you a cup of tea, the liquid inside of the cup was moving back and forth due to the waves.

"It's much like riding a dragon, though you shouldn't compliment me that much - I emptied my stomach a few hours ago." you giggled, remembering the reddish hue that your face turned into. Oh, your ancestors were turning in their graves. "Don't worry, it'll only be a few more hours until we reach the shores of Pharmaka." she placed a hand on your shoulder.

There was silence between the both of you, in fear of the unknown. You stared at the small round window beside you.

Would Daemon love the ocean too? You remember the War of the Stepstones. A sigh escapes your mouth, the wars have marred him and he wouldn't have loved the smell of salt air as much as you. "It's an island filled with women, not a single man is allowed." Serenei continued with a smile, and for a moment you pondered if she went though the same things that you did.

You shake your head. You wish that she didn't.

"It must be heaven, then?" Alyssandra leaned on the doorframe, trying to keep herself steady due to the treacherous waves that pumped against the ship's bodice.

"It is - utopia is what they call themselves." Serenei continued telling the story, a smile ghosts your face. Your life had turned into a story indeed, finding true love with a Dragon Prince - losing him and being forced to live through the tragedy in Harrenhal, and now you were halfway across the world, riding a ship that is going to a place that calls themself utopia.

(ST. JOSEPH SCHOOL OF DRAGONSTONE)

The steam of your coffee littered your face with kisses, and a groan escapes your mouth. You couldn't believe that you feel asleep through your entire free period. Those dreams weren't stopping, but the scenarios were drastically changing.

At first, they were filled with love - of scenes with you and the 'Dragon Prince' then they changed into nightmares - of ones that you couldn't remember, only waking up in tears - but now, you were in a ship to some unknown island that made you feel hopeful.

Once the story ends, would you be free of those dreams? Would you be free to live your life without those headaches that forced your head open, telling you that there was something that you forgot?

AEMOND NEW SIM How are you? You haven't messaged me in a while :(

YOU sorry i fell asleep hehehahaha 😭

AEMOND NEW SIM Sleeping on duty? tskk

Daemon interrupts you from replying by sitting next to you. There was a pang in your heart, something deep inside your mind telling you to run towards him and offer him a warm embrace. Flashes from your dreams come to you. The small round window, the small of salt breeze and his lavender eyes that felt like a thousand sleepless nights cuddled by the fire.

"Congratulations." Daemon opened his mouth to speak. He stared deep into your eyes, almost peering inside your soul. There wasn't an expression in your face that he hasn't seen a million times. "For what?" you inquired with a slight smile.

"The students proficiency in math has improved since you started teaching them." he informed, and you quickly remember that he attended a meeting earlier today.

A nervous chuckle escapes your mouth.

"They're struggling with the basic stuff, things that they're supposed to know in the first and second grade. I try to go back to those topics before getting back into the complex stuff." you explained, and the smile returns to your face, happy to speak about your passion.

"Whatever you're doing, it seems to be working." he continued to compliment, liking that look in your eyes - the fire. Your body shifts unconsciously, your elbows much closer to his. Your coffee has long gotten rid of its heat, but there was still a million things you had to talk about with him.

"By the way, I thought that you were familiar even before I got to know you - then Harwin and the family talked about that trip to Italy that we both had at the same day. I know it sound a little weird, but I'm pretty sure that the picture you posted on your instagram was taken by me." you opened up the conversation, and he freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

August 23. He remembered vividly, right after you took that picture of him, he promptly collapsed on the curb and was brought to a hospital. That was also the day that he finished remembering his past life. His memories were revived by you?

"A funny coincidence," he managed to choke out.

The Gods were playing a cruel joke.

He stares at your face, seeing your squinting eyes - waiting for his reply. He decides that this might be the right time to talk about Tirano. "When you left, I actually collapsed." he chuckled, playing with the ring on his finger.

"What? Why?" your eyebrows merged into each other.

"I don't know if I'm the only one but - when I was younger I used to dream about weird things, dragons, kings, wars. At first, my parents thought that it was just the result of an overactive mind but the dreams persisted until I turned into an adult - actually I think I was in my late thirties or early fourties when they stopped. It stopped after that trip to Tirano." he monologued, now evading your gaze.

If you weren't able to make the connection, then he would've revealed himself for nothing. "I dream about those things too. Strange." you whispered, your voice suddenly decreasing in volume. "I'm not the only one then," he looked to the side.

"But you said that they stopped? How did they stop?" you asked, wanting to rid yourself of those nightmares. He smiled, remembering seeing your face before everything faded to black.

"I dreamed about myself dying, and after waking up in a hospital bed feeling like I slept a million years, I never dreamt about it again." he confirmed and your heart sinks to your chest. "Holy shit, this sounds so fanatically cultish." you cursed. "- you're telling me that I need to die in the dream to stop dreaming about it again?" you repeated.

He replies with a shrug.

"Well that's going to take a long time. I'm in like, Act Three of the whole novel." you decided to keep the conversation light, although the topic was serious and you weren't sure if you were there to believe him. "How many acts are there?" he raised an eyebrow. "How many acts are in Madame Butterfly?" you quizzed.

"Three...so you're near the end." he smiled. "I'm not sure, for all we know it might just be the end of the beginning." you answered.

He stands up, hearing the bells ring.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure that you'll find a cure of your own." he bid his goodbyes and disappeared from the teacher's lounge.

AEMOND NEW SIM Can you pls catch a ride with someone u work with? I'm a little busy here in mom's house She's moving a few things Yknow her trip to Turkey

YOU Okay, what time will u be home?

AEMOND NEW SIM Probably before dinner If I'm out past six have dinner before me

YOU Alright, take care

next part >>

[sapphire-writes]

The Campaign (modern!HOTD)

Part 2 of The Campaign

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: You entertain a prominent retired politician at brunch and have it out with your arch-nemesis over mimosas and a garden stroll.

warnings: NSFW 18+ (explicit sex, fingering, p*ssy slapping, degrading language, oral fem receiving, choking, begging, pearl necklacing, mean!Aemond), general language

word count: 3.2k

note: you know I can't resist a part 2!

The sun warms your skin as you stand outside.

A mimosa dangles between your fingers, a sheer lace dress hugging your form. Aemond watches you from across the yard, as you’re lost in conversation with Lyonel Tyrell, the host of this elaborate brunch. 

You glance over at him for a moment, letting Lyonel’s words turn to ringing in your ears. He’s been going on and on about the same story for ages and you’ve been listening. Smiling politely and indulging him, engaging with pointed questions. Retired from his political career, Lyonel Tyrell is sitting on an empire of hotels, including the one you’re currently in. 

He’s been neutral with his support so far, but an endorsement from Lyonel Tyrell, along with a donation, would be a huge win for Rhaenyra’s campaign. 

Still, while remaining neutral, Lyonel is a terrible gossip and one for drama. So he insisted on hosting an elaborate brunch the morning after Rhaenyra and Aegon’s first debate that would be happening later that evening. 

Your lips curve into a smirk and Aemond feels his pants tighten. Floris is by his side, chattering away about gods knows what. But all he can think about is the other night. Your lips on his cock, the feel of your tight pussy holding him. It’s been all he can fucking think about. 

Across the yard, Jace joins you, wrapping an arm around your waist. Luke follows an almost constant shadow of his elder brother. 

“Do look through the gardens,” Lyonel tells you, bringing you back to reality, “A beautiful maze, that’s what I think of them as.”

“It might rain,” Luke says, nonchalantly looking at the sky. 

“I think I’m going to walk the gardens,” you tell Jace as he begins another conversation with Lyonel, “Before it rains.”

“Better hurry,” Luke says, squinting at the sky.

Jace places a kiss on your lips, soft and chaste and sweet; just like him. Jace is a good guy. You flounce off toward the gardens planning for a quick walk. You need to get away from everything for a minute. This charade can be exhausting, pretending to be this bright-eyed little girlfriend of Jacaerys Velaryon. But its worth it.

As you walk deeper, you come across a big fountain, and pause for a moment to read the plaque. 

“Where’s your dog?” Aemond’s voice calls suddenly as he joins you. 

Floris is nowhere to be found. You roll your eyes as you turn to face him. 

“Back for more already?” you tease, crossing your arms.

“It’s you who’s been staring all afternoon,” he tells you shrugging, “Figured you needed a second round.”

“Oh please,” you scoff, turning to face him, “As if I’d ever need any of that again.”

“You can lie to yourself all you want,” Aemond tells you, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Certainly not your dick,” you tell him, “Jace however, is a fantastic lover.”

“Oh, so you’ve fucked him?” he asks, nodding, “That why he got you that necklace? A little reward for finally putting out?”

Your cheeks flush, though you wish they didn’t and your lips curl into a snarl. He noticed the gift. And do you detect a note of jealousy in his voice?

“Keeping your eyes on my chest then, are you?” you snap back.

“That necklace is hideous,” Aemond retorts. 

You smirk, bringing a hand to your chest, just where your cleavage begins and the diamond J rests. You twirl the letter between your fingers. 

“Still worth more than your life,” you tell him, smiling sweetly.

Your phone buzzes and you pull it from your pocket. It’s Jace, wondering where you’ve run off to. Apparently, Lyonel is eager to resume your conversation. 

“It must be killing you, playing trophy wife to Velaryon,” Aemond says suddenly. 

You glance up from your phone. 

“Excuse me?” you ask. 

“Just saying,” he tells you, shrugging slightly. 

His eyes are locked on you. 

“Fuck you,” you tell him. 

“Fuck you right back,” he nearly growls.

“I hate you,” you say, stepping closer. 

You haven’t realized you’re right in front of him until it’s too late. At the end of your statement, your eyes widen, flickering to his lips for half a second, watching as his tongue darts out, wetting his lower lip. 

It’s a millisecond, but all it takes for Aemond’s hand to grab the back of your neck, pulling your mouth to his. The shock of his lips on yours distracts you for a moment; it makes your eyes flutter shut, and warmth pool in between your legs. He deepens the kiss, soft tongue slipping into your mouth, and his free hand clings to your waist pulling you flush against him so you can feel him; hard and wanting, pressing into you. 

Your eyes snap open and you push him away. Aemond’s hand reaches for his jaw, stopping before it connects with his prominent chin. He takes his lower lip in between his teeth, watching you, tasting the remnants of your lips on his. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged. 

“Kissing you,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Well don’t,” you tell him.

“Alright,” he agrees.

You stare at each other a moment more. You glance around, still the only ones this far into the gardens. Aemond follows your gaze. 

“There’s no one here,” he tells you.

“What are you playing at?” you ask, crossing your arms.

A lazy smirk comes over his face. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him, “But you’re up to something, I can read it all over your stupid face.” 

“Oh, I’m stupid now?” 

“You’ve always been.”

“How very matu-”

He’s cut off when the sky above you both cracks with thunder. You flinch at the sound and look up, greeted by fat droplets of rain on your cheeks. Your eyes widen as lightning bursts through the sky.

Shit.

The sky fully opens then, torrential rain beating down on you and Aemond, as though you’re both nothing more than a couple of flowers in the garden. With a yelp you hold your hands above your head, abandoning Aemond, trying to make your way back to the hotel. 

“There you are!” Jace says as you enter the dining room.

His face scrunches into a frown, seeing your state. Your shoes make squelching noises as you walk towards them, the air-conditioned air making goosebumps appear on your arms and legs. 

“You’re soaked!” Jace comments.

“I told you it would rain,” Lucerys says, taking a sip of his drink. 

You glare at him.

“Geniuses, both of you,” you tell them, “I’m going to freshen up.”

“Y/N, my dear,” Lyonel says frowning at you.

You force a smile at your host.

“Here, take this,” he says, pressing a keycard into your hand, “Master key. Go to the top floor, our penthouse suite is empty. You can freshen up there.”

You smile gratefully.

“You’re too kind, Lyonel, thank you,” you tell him, taking the key card. 

The suite is huge, with three bathrooms and several adjoining rooms. You walk around for a moment, appreciating it before choosing the largest bathroom to shower and change in. You take your time, helping yourself to the expensive lotions and body gels laid out for important guests. 

As you wrap a heated towel around yourself you hear something. Exiting the bathroom you walk down the hall.

“Hello?” you call, “Jace?”

To your surprise, it's not Jace, but Aemond, who exits the closest bathroom, a towel around his waist. His hair is half dry, a blowdryer in his hand.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, holding your towel tightly around yourself.

Aemond places the hairdryer down inside the bathroom before walking toward you.

“Same as you,” he tells you, “Lyonel gave me the card.”

“What the fuck?” you mumble, “Well you need to leave.”

“I need to finish drying my hair,” he tells you.

“Fucking primadonna,” you groan, annoyed with this whole scenario.

“You ever try not being a brat?” Aemond snaps, tongue poking against his cheek.

“Excuse me?” you ask, chest heaving with anger.

Aemond stalks closer until he’s an inch away from you.

“You’re fucking desperate, you know that?” Aemond tells you, “Practically begging me to fuck you right now.”

“I’m telling you to fuck off,” you tell him.

“Makes me want to fuck you more,” he tells you, bringing a hand to stroke your cheek, “And I think you know that.”

Your breathing is irregular and you can feel the hand that’s not on your cheek playing with the edge of your towel before dipping below. 

“You were such a greedy little slut last time we did this,” he murmurs, dragging his long fingers through your silky folds.

Your body jerks against his touch, as his fingers tantalize your sensitive clit. Aemond grins wolfishly at your parting lips and the way your lashes flutter against your cheekbones as he rolls your clit between the pads of his fingers. 

“Not so talkative now, are you?” he taunts and you push at his chest. 

You need to get him away from you, your head is spinning from his scent, the feeling of his breath on your face, his hands on you. You inhale a shaky breath, leaning your head against the wall, tightening your towel around you. 

Aemond smirks, standing a few feet away. Your eyes drop to the towel tied at his waist, the noticeable bulge poking through. You drag your eyes up the v-line of his hips, the planes of his chiseled abs, past his collarbones, and up to his face once more. 

“If you want to fuck me, fuck me,” you spit at him, “but shut up about it.”

He glares at you a moment more, your venomous words hanging in the space between you, poisoning the air that fills his lungs. With one stride, he’s on you once more; he brings one hand to your neck and the other around your waist as he connects your lips.

Aemond’s kiss is punishing, and he drags a moan out from deep within your chest as his tongue slips into your mouth. Your hands tangle in his hair, still slightly damp from his shower, and you let your nails scratch against his scalp. He moans into your mouth at that, and you do it again, pleased with the reaction. Then his hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling your lips from his.

“Get on the bed,” Aemond tells you, nodding to the king-sized bed.

You get into position, on your hands and knees, before you feel his large hand press in between your shoulder blades, easing the front of your body to press into the mattress. Your arms give and you let them rest beside you as your cheek presses into the soft comforter. Completely vulnerable, ass in the air, Aemond trails his hand down your back slowly tracing down your spine. He brings his hands to your asscheeks, making a noise of appreciation as he squeezes the soft flesh. 

You can feel his long fingers dig into your hips before he tugs roughly, pulling you effortlessly to the edge of the bed. A small whimper leaves your lips as he delivers a sharp slap to your left asscheek. You can feel his erection nudging your ass before it disappears suddenly. 

Not a moment later you feel the sharp curve of Aemond’s nose press into you, his warm tongue spreading your dripping folds. A moan leaves you as he continues, lewd slurping noises filling the room. Your toes curl as Aemond teases your clit with his tongue, before diving into your clenching hole. He chuckles against you as he fucks you with his tongue, spanking you harshly once more. 

“Desperate.” slap “Greedy.” slap “Slut.” slap

Your ass is bound to be covered in handprints, with each strike of his hand punctuating his cruel words. You lift your head slightly, annoyed at his language. 

“Aem-” you try to hold onto any semblance of sanity, though it's an effort with the way his tongue is working its way against your spongy walls, exiting only to bring attention back to your clit. 

“Shhh,” he murmurs, sinking a finger inside of you.

Your eyes roll, jaw slacks as he crooks his finger, working it against your tender inner walls. 

“Shut the fuck up, yeah?” he says gently, “Gonna fuck that little attitude right out of you.”

“You’re such a dick,” you manage to hiss as a second finger joins the first. 

Shit, his hands are something else. His fingers are so long. Fuck. He clearly knows what he’s doing, there’s no rough thrusting like guys you’d been with previously. Aemond’s precise with his movements, the way he curls his fingers in a fluid motion, listening to every moan, every pant you release, and zeroing in on the places he presses within you that elicit them. 

The fire in your belly winds tighter and your knees shake as he slowly breaks you apart. 

“Oh oh,” you moan, feeling the pleasure in your abdomen crest. 

But Aemond withdraws his fingers then, slowly and the high begins to fade just out of reach. You groan, displeased as Aemond stands behind you. He brings a hand to cup your sex before slapping it harshly.

“Greedy sluts don’t get to come,” he tells you, “You’re not coming until you fucking beg me.”

You let out a sharp defiant laugh, but nervousness curls in your belly. Something about his tone tells you he’s not joking. Aemond grabs his cock, rubbing the fat head against your slit before pushing in, splitting you open. A strangled moan leaves you as he begins to fuck you from behind, fingers digging into your hips. 

Bruises will have to be explained to Jace. 

You don’t think about that now, not with how good he feels fucking you. Consequences don’t matter right now, the only thing that matters is the feeling of his cock sliding in and out so effortlessly. Once more you feel pleasure cresting inside of you, a coil winding tighter and tighter. 

“Aemond-”

“No,” he answers, continuing to pound into you. 

You whimper in frustration, and he simply laughs. 

“You ready to start begging?” he taunts. 

You don’t answer, drool pooling next to your cheek. Aemond grabs your hair, yanking your head up.

“Huh?” he asks, continuing his thrusts. 

“No,” you whimper, feeling Jace’s necklace lightly slap against you with each thrust. 

Aemond releases you, pulling out and turning you on your back. You’re panting, face red as he looks down at you. You’ve never been bare like this to him before.

“You want to come, don’t you?” he asks, tilting his head to look at your pussy.

He brings his hand to your pussy once more, teasing the entrance with two thick fingers. 

“I can feel you clenching, so desperate for my fingers, huh?” he says, inserting them just enough that you’re clamping down on his digits. 

“Fucking pathetic. You’re just going to lay there?” he asks, curling his fingers slightly.

Then he spits, directly on your pussy, the saliva dripping down your slit to join where his fingers disappear inside of you. 

“Aem-”

“You begging, or still whining?” he asks, fully immersing his fingers, “Cause I better not hear fucking whining.”

You close your mouth, as he works his fingers inside of you, bringing his mouth to the top of your slit. His tongue rolls around your sensitive nub in tandem with the movement of his fingers. You feel tears form, dribbling out of the corners of your eyes. 

Aemond glances up at you between your legs, blue and violet eyes gleaming maliciously. 

“You crying?” Aemond asks, “Oh that’s good. I love that.”

“You’re sick,” you hiss, back arching as he rubs that perfect spot inside of you, “Oh gods.” 

“Am I?” he asks, “Yeah?”

Aemond removes his fingers, and your orgasm is denied again. Frustrated tears blur your vision, and he’s pushing into you again, spearing you on his thick cock and pushing your legs on his shoulders. Every thrust of his hips is as calculated as his previous fingering, it's like he knows just how to fuck you. 

Aemond’s eyes are locked on your chest, watching your breasts jiggle with every pound of his hips against you. He meets your eyes and you smirk slightly at his ogling. You’ve no real power in this situation, but the temptation is too hard to resist. 

“Knew you were looking at my tits,” you tell him. 

There’s a glint of something in Aemond’s eye, like he’s almost impressed with your bratty attitude you’ve been clinging to. Your triumph is short-lived, as he reaches a long arm down, and wraps his hand snuggly around your throat. 

“I can’t stand that fucking necklace,” he tells you, and you can feel the chain digging into your skin as Aemond flexes his fingers, cutting off some of your air supply. 

You’re a whimpering mess now, with the brutal pace of his cock, and the squeezing of his hand around your neck. You part your lips, attempting to speak, and Aemond relaxes his grip without removing his hand. 

“Please,” you say softly, “Aemond please I need to come.”

“You call that begging?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Aemond, please,” you beg, “Please, please I need to come, please.”

“Why should I?” Aemond asks with an open-mouthed grin. 

“I’ll let you come anywhere,” you tell him, “Anywhere you want.”

Aemond quirks an eyebrow.

“Tempting,” he says, pondering your offering. 

“Aemond, for fucks sake-”

The grip on your throat tightens.

“I’m sorry,” you choke, “I’m sorry, please, please, just let me come I’m begging.”

Aemond smirks then brings his free hand to toy with your throbbing clit. 

“Aemond,” you warn, feeling your orgasm beginning to peak, “please, please I can’t, please let me come.”

It’s smooth and gentle the way he fondles your clit as his cock slides effortlessly in and out of your soaked center. You feel like you might go crazy if he denies you your release again, a pathetic, sharp whimper escaping you. Your body trembles under him, legs spasming. 

“You can come,” he tells you and you come undone with a gasp, white-hot pleasure tingling throughout your body. 

Aemond pulls out a moment later, stroking himself.

“On your knees,” he tells you and you oblige as he continues to stroke his cock.

You look up at him, as he finishes, white pearly strands of his come decorating your neck and chest. He sighs with the pleasure of his release, and you lean back on your haunches, his semen still warm on your skin. 

“I’m going to need another shower,” you tell him, rising to your feet, “Which gives you time to go back down.”

“Alright,” he says, eyes flickering to you as you grab the discarded towel, wiping off his release. 

Your cheeks are flushed and you don’t look at him before heafing into the bathroom and turning on the shower. How the fuck did this happen again?

When you finish and dress yourself Aemond has already left the suite.

You make your way back to the brunch, and loop your arm around Jace’s. 

“All cleaned up?” he asks smiling.

“Yup,” you tell him matching his grin.

“Good,” he tells you, “Mom was just telling us about a retreat she’s planned. It’s going to be some big spectacle, the whole family is invited to the Summerhall House in the Hamptons.”

“The whole family?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Jace says, “They say it’ll be good publicity for both sides. One big happy family.”

You look across the room, spotting Aemond. Jace doesn’t notice, his gaze fixed on your neck. 

“Where’s your necklace?” he asks, “Did you leave it upstairs?”

Your hand jumps to your throat. You hadn’t even noticed it was missing. You meet Aemond’s eyes once more, noting his smirk.

He fucking hated that necklace.

Note: hope you liked it lovelies!! ILYSM 💖

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AEMOND TAGLIST: @warmfieldofgrass

BOLD MEANS I COULD NOT TAG

[humanpurposes]

De Facto

She can't afford to fantasize over Aemond Targaryen, he's her boss and the Prime Minister... but stopping is easier said than done- this fic now has a part two :)

Main Masterlist

PM!Aemond x unnamed female character

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of SA, questionable power dynamics, politics (putting my degree to good use), unnecessary world building

Words: 7700

A/n: Thanks for the inspo @ewanmitchellcrumbs, sorry it's not Dishy Rishi tho :(

Throughout the whole train journey into Central King’s Landing, she’s sure she’s dreaming. Her body feels strangely light, her hands are restless and her heart is beating steadily in her chest. 

She flows effortlessly with the stream of commuters, along the platform, through the station’s glass atrium, then left towards Conquest Street. She knows her way around this part of the city already, and though she’s never been inside, she’s walked past Hightower House countless times.

This time is different. Now she walks up to the iron gates, pressing her thumbnail into her index finger, because the armed guards are making her nervous. 

She tells them her name and one of them mutters into a radio.

Her eyes run along the gold crest that marks the gate, a shield divided into seven, a sun for Dorne, a rose for The Reach, a stag for The Stormlands, a Trout for The Riverlands, a Falcon for The Vale, a Kraken for The Iron Islands, a wolf for The North, and at its heart is the symbol that unites them, the three headed dragon (although strictly speaking, Westeros abolished its monarchy centuries ago).

Suddenly one of the guards catches her attention. He opens the gate for her, and says she’ll be given a security pass and instructions to use the staff entrance following her official induction.

Hightower House stands proudly before her, an ornate facade of balustrades and columns, order and symmetry, an obvious juxtaposition of the medieval majesty of the Red Keep, just down the road.

It all feels very daunting, but the last five years have led her to this moment, the entirety of her adult life. She keeps telling herself that she deserves to be here, after all, she was the one who made it through the first round of applications, who made it to the shortlist and the final interviews, and she was the only one of hundreds of applicants who received the phone call, offering her a position as a personal advisor to the Prime Minister.

The contract only lasts two years, but it is the most effective stepping stone into a career in politics that she could ever ask for.

The entire morning is spent working out formalities. First she meets the deputy chief of staff, a handsome man named Criston Cole, who she’ll directly report to. He shows her through mountains of paperwork and gives her a brief overview of her role. Essentially, she is to assist the Prime Minister on whatever he deems necessary, policy aims, speeches, media coverage, political rhetoric, public image. 

“You’re a glorified assistant,” Cole says as she reads and signs page after page of her employment contract, “but with a salary to reflect it, so don’t feel discouraged. There will be some admin work which can get tedious, but you’ve been selected for your expertise and your passion for the party.”

That’s the crucial part of the job. Everything she does will be to benefit Mr Targayren as head of the Green Party, still running off the high of their victory at the last general election, just under a year ago. 

She signs her last signature triumphantly, despite the ache in her wrist, and hands the pen back to Cole with a smile. “All done?” she asks hopefully.

Cole grimaces sympathetically. “Not quite.”

There are four people to meet before she’s officially in. She takes a deep breath to soothe herself. It’s all just more formalities, which she can understand, given the weight of this job.

The first is the Prime Minister's private secretary, a glamorous woman with black hair and piercing green eyes, named Alys Rivers. She greets her warmly, having already spoken over the phone with her several times. She also knows her CV off by heart. It’s a little strange having someone know almost everything about her education and employment history when her face is unfamiliar.

The next is a young woman named Maris, the other of Mr Targaryen’s personal advisors. She has dark hair and a look of determination in her grey eyes. She explains that there are always two personal advisors, but hired on alternating years. She was hired at the start of Mr Targaryen’s premiership, and has a year left of her contract.

There are a thousand questions she wants to ask Maris, but before she can even scratch the surface, Cole’s checking his watch and dragging her off to another office.

Otto Hightower is the chief of staff. He’s thin and wiry, but incredibly intimidating. He has tired, sunken eyes that seem to glare right through her, and a passive but severe expression on his face, as though he’s scrutinising, having already decided she’s a waste of his time.

It’s not a great feeling, being looked at like that by a man she’s idolised for years. She knows his career timeline by heart. He earned his bachelors in Politics and Economics from Oldtown, before doing a masters in International Relations at King’s Landing, where he met and befriended Viserys Targaryen. He worked his way to becoming an MP and soon into Viserys’ cabinet when be became Prime Minister.

But things changed when Otto’s daughter married Viserys. No one really knows the whole truth, but Otto resigned from the Black Party, and took over from his own brother as leader of the opposition.

Now he works in the background, the mastermind behind his grandson’s remarkable successes.

Cole explains that Mr Hightower had the final say in the shortlist and determining which applicant would be given the final job offer.

“You had an impressive application,” he says, briefly looking up from a document. “I’m sure you’ll do well with us.”

“Thank you, Mr Hightower,” she says through the slight tremble in her jaw.

Other than that, the interaction is brief, and soon Cole is ushering her out of the room, back to Alys’ office, as richly decorated as the rest of the building. Maris is sitting at another desk, typing away furiously on a laptop.

“Tea? Coffee? Water?” Cole offers her, gesturing for her to take a seat on a green leather sofa.

“Water would be lovely,” she says.

“Maris,” he calls.

She glares up from her laptop. “That’s not my job.”

“No, but it’s courtesy,” he says.

Alys’ slight smirk doesn’t escape her attention.

Maris purses her lips, but she closes her laptop, pointedly slams her hands against the arms of her chair, and marches out of the room, her shiny black heels clicking against the dark wood floor.

“She’s nice really,” Cole says, “just a bit… direct at times.”

“Direct,” Alys groans to herself. 

She feels her brow flicker into a frown but stops herself.

“She’s good at her job,” Criston says like he might say something else, but he doesn’t.

When Maris returns, she seems a little less on edge.

She takes the glass of water with a cautious hand, Maris’ eyes lingering on her maroon painted nails. 

“I like your top,” Maris says.

She glances down. It’s nothing special, black and long-sleeved, to go with her long blue and green patterned skirt.

“Thank you,” she says.

Maris hums to herself before she goes back to her desk.

“Do you often work in here?” she asks.

Maris shrugs. “It depends.” She doesn’t care to explain further.

Alys is smirking again.

“Mr Targaryen was in a meeting with the cabinet this morning,” Cole says, then checks his watch. “He has a few phone calls to make, but he should be ready to see you at about 4pm. Maris?”

“Yes?” 

“Will you show her in around then?”

“Yeah,” she says, flatly, “of course.”

Cole shakes her hand before he leaves. “Alys will show you out when you leave. I’ll see you on Monday morning.”

She continues to wait on the sofa, restless in the silence that follows once the door has shut. Alys and Maris are both typing, their nails clicking against their keyboards. She starts to bounce her leg and stops herself.

Her mind is racing. The day seems to have gone well so far, but what if she meets Mr Targaryen and it all falls apart? What if he decides he doesn’t like her and sends her packing? 

She’s too lost in her own head to notice the flash of Alys’ emerald green dress as she stands in front of her. That is, until she’s leaning down and waving a bar of chocolate in front of her. “Get a bit of sugar in you,” she says, “and breathe slowly.”

She smiles as she takes the bar and places a single cube on her tongue. She lets it melt, savouring the sweetness and the slight bitterness of its taste.

You can do this, she thinks to herself with every inhale. And then she exhales. You are here for a reason.

The phone on Alys’ desk rings. She checks her own phone. It’s exactly 3:59.

“Yes, sir, Maris will show her in now.”

Aemond Targaryen is on the other end of the line. Her heart drops at the thought.

As the second son of Viserys, it seems like he was always destined for the family business. He differs from his father and grandfather in that he did Politics and Philosophy at Sunspear, before going on to do his masters in History at Oldtown, and then another masters in International Relations at King’s Landing. By all accounts, he is fiercely intelligent, mature beyond his years, with the right balance of intimidating and charismatic to command the support he needed to get in as MP for Rosby, then as party leader.

In fact, it had been his first campaign that inspired her to apply for a degree in politics in the first place. She loved how he spoke, how he managed to strike a balance between grace and passion, and how deeply he cared for his policies. He was poised and perfect, but driven by a genuine want for improvement.

He perfected his craft within a matter of years. With the mess Rhaenyra Targaryen had made of the country, it was all too easy for him to win a majority with a few winning speeches, a hand running through his silver hair, that lazy half-smirk and the intense look in his eyes that just made you want to fall at his feet. And people do. The press adore him, his party worships him, foreign dignitaries often remark on his charm but also his capabilities as a negotiator and a leader.

Maris leads her out of the office, along a quiet corridor. She stops outside a door with gold lettering: Office of A. Targaryen, Prime Minister

Seeing it in front of her, strangely, seems to subdue her nerves. Her chest flutters, but the anxiety is more manageable than before.

Maris taps her knuckles against the door three times.

From the other side of the door she hears a gentle but chilling voice. “Enter.”

She follows Maris inside.

He’s perched against his desk, his long, silver hair falling around his shoulders as he looks over a few pieces of paper. He wears a white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, black slacks and brown leather shoes.

He looks up slowly, the light of the early Autumn evening beaming through the windows, over the sharp features of his face, his cheeks, his nose, his jaw, his neck.

His eyes find hers, unashamed and curious.

Suddenly she can feel her heart in her throat.

Maris introduces her. “I’m sure Alys already debriefed you, but she’s here for her induction. Cole said you wanted to meet her as a formality and–”

It feels awfully like she’s talking for the sake of it.

“That will be all, Maris,” Mr Targaryen says softly. She can’t help but watch the way his lips move when he speaks.

“Oh, are you sure, sir?” she asks. Her face is twisted into a slight frown but her eyes are wide. “I just thought, for her sake, it might be useful if I’m here to explain everything.”

“I’m sure, thank you.”

She stands with her hands clasped in front of her skirt as she listens to Maris’ footsteps move towards the door. It opens and closes, and now all she can hear are her own breaths, gently flowing through her nose.

She doesn’t know where to look. At the patterned carpet on the floor? No, it would be rude of her to hang her head. At the portraits that line the wall? At the bookshelves? At the desk? No, that all seems too intrusive. Out the window? No, that might seem like she’s not paying attention.

So her eyes settle on him.

He hasn’t moved from his position, but he’s placed the paper on the desk behind him, leaning with his palms at the edge. His eyes glance over her once, up and down.

Fuck, he’s so much better looking in person.

Then he stands to his full height, and picks up a clipboard from the desk. He flicks through a few of the pages and hums softly to himself.

“You had an impressive application,” he says.

She swallows through the slightly dry feeling in her throat. “Thank you, sir.”

“And an excellently written cover letter.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You did your masters in Comparative Politics at Sunspear. Oberyen Martell is still head of faculty there, isn’t he?”

“Yes, sir. He taught one of my modules, Security Studies.”

“He’s an interesting character,” he muses, smiling to himself. “He was my supervisor for my undergrad dissertation.”

She already knew that. Dr Martell loved to go on about his star student. She would too if she taught the future Prime Minister.

He flicks to another page. She watches as his eyes skim over the words in front of him. “And you came with glowing reviews from Tyland Lannister.”

She’s not sure how she’s supposed to respond to that– it makes her sound more like a product than a person– so she just smiles, as delicately as she can, making sure not to squint her eyes too much. 

She had spent the last year as Mr Lannister’s Parliamentary Assistant, at his office in the Red Keep, starting just as he had been appointed as Foreign Secretary. 

“How was he as a boss?” Mr Targayren asks.

Straightforward, she thinks. He took his job seriously and was decidedly not a fan of smalltalk. His office often worked in silence, and even when he was stressed he was efficient.

“No complaints,” she says.

“I’m sure you were all kept busy, cleaning up Corlys Velaryon’s mess after the Stepstones.”

A minor military excursion to defend a few key trading routes, or at least that’s how it had started. Within a matter of months the Stepstones had spiralled beyond control, costing Corlys Velaryon his seat and the Blacks their majority in Parliament.

“If I remember right, it was Daemon Targaryen pushing that particular policy,” she says.

The corner of his mouth curls upward. It could be a smile but she’s not entirely sure. 

“Sir,” she adds, hoping to soften the blow of her unintentional insult; what idiot tries to correct the Prime Minister on their first day on the job? She does, clearly.

He doesn’t seem irritated or angry, more amused. A cryptic “hmm” sounds in his throat as he flicks back to the first document. “And before that you were a campaign manager for the party, yes?”

“Yes,” she says brightly, grateful for the change of subject. “I was working in the Stormlands in the lead up to the general election.” The region was formerly a Black stronghold, but turned Green thanks in part to her efforts.

“Excellent work,” he says.

The smooth, seductive tone of his voice seems to come so naturally to him. She bites her tongue at the image it prompts in her head, of his lips brushing over her ear, his hands resting on her waist, she can almost feel it–

No. That’s wrong. So wrong.

Fantasising about the Prime Minister of Westeros is not a habit she can afford to keep up, not when she’s supposed to be working with him in such close proximity.

But that’s easier said than done.

Cole enters his office, bright and early on Monday morning, before the rest of Hightower House is awake.

Aemond’s routine is the same every day. Up at 5am, run a few laps of the expansive gardens or spend an hour going through his meticulously planned gym routine. He showers, shaves, applies his skincare and haircare products, dabs some perfume on his wrists, dresses, and takes breakfast and a black coffee in his office. By 7:30am he’s ready to work.

He needs the routines and the outlets. They help keep him sane.

He’d seen how this position twisted his father into a tired, irritable and irrational man, how it got to Rhaenyra’s head until she became a liability to herself. He won’t be like them. He has a reputation to uphold, a legacy to claim.

Cole places a folder on his desk. “The background check you ordered, sir.”

He thanks him, quietly and sincerely, and waits until he’s left the room to open the folder.

His new personal advisor intrigues him. He’d made the request for the background check as soon as their meeting had ended on Friday. 

She has no criminal record, which is unsurprising, that definitely would have come up sooner if she had one.

He browses through her education history, a star student at Storm’s End Grammar School, a bachelor’s in history from Rainwood, a masters from Suspear, where she was head of Debate Soc and Amnesty International, while working various internships and retail jobs in between.

The next page is full of articles from student publications, The Importance of Integrity in Politics for the Rainwood Student Journal, Sovereignty in the Stepstones for Red Sun Rising. He reads through them both. Her writing is immaculate, concise and convincing.

The final page is more personal, social media profiles. It’s nothing scandalous, but she clearly has a certain image she wants to project. Her Instagram is full of art and history museums, coffee shops and preppy outfits. She has a few pictures on her LinkedIn of her at the Green Party conference last year, pictured with a group of girls her age and a caption that talks about the importance of representation in politics, with links to various charities and initiatives. In the photo she’s wearing a white silk shirt, open just enough to show off a dainty gold necklace and a hint of the swell of her chest.

She seems perfect. Too perfect for his own good.

The first months go smoothly enough. 

Maris is a practical person. She’s good with numbers, good for bouncing off ideas for economic policies and analysing data for him, even if she is a little overbearing at times.

But she fills the gaps perfectly. He secretly looks forward to their meetings and debriefings, when he asks her to write or edit speeches for him, or run through questions with him before a press conference. Politics is never easy, but she has a remarkable talent for keeping a level head. He likes that she’s always calm and composed. He likes her soft, reassuring smiles and the sharp look in her eyes. 

They just click. She’s always switched on, always knows the right things to say and do, always knows what he needs.

Every moment they are alone feels monumental; the settled quiet of his office when she first walks in and takes a seat on the other side of his desk; when they make an exchange, debriefing papers for an empty coffee cup, and their fingers will brush over each other; when he stands over her shoulder to read the document she’s working on, close enough to smell her perfume and feel a heat simmering under his skin. It’s starting to become unbearable, and yet he craves that feeling.

And then, one morning, he gets a phone call from the Crownlands Messenger. They’re about to publish a story. His brother has been accused of inappropriate conduct by no less than three women.

Fucking Aegon.

The entire country is in an uproar. How can anyone trust their Parliamentary representatives when they do shit like this? Is Aegon an outlier or is this just scratching the surface? What will his punishment be? What else are the Greens hiding? 

There are hundreds of emergency meetings with his grandfather, tense phone calls, bearating headlines, and onslaughts of outrage online. There’s no question about it, Aegon has to resign as an MP, but the damage is done. The polls are turning Black instead of Green. People don’t trust the ruling party, or its leader.

It’s late. Aemond paces his office while a headache pulses in his head. He’s long ditched the coffee for whisky, swirling it about in his glass. He sent Maris home hours ago. He doesn’t have the patience for anyone at the moment. Except for the woman leaning against his desk, flicking through news articles and the pages of notes she’s prepared for him.

Tomorrow is PMQs. No doubt there’s only one topic the Blacks will be asking about. He can already see Rhaenyra and Daemon’s smug faces, the delight they’ll take in watching him fall apart. There’s just no way he’s getting out of this easily.

He feels so restless. His hands are trembling and his lips won’t seem to stop moving, so he places himself against the wall, mindlessly tapping his fingers against his glass as he takes another generous sip.

From the desk he hears a heavy sigh that hums slightly in her throat. “Is there anything else you want to go over, sir?” she asks.

“No, I think we’ve exhausted the hypotheticals,” he says, running his free hand through his hair. He resists the urge to pull at the roots, to take his frustration out on something. “It’s just– fuck’s sake, I’ve been saying Aegon’s a liability for years. But no, Otto always wanted to keep pushing for him. Said it was good for the family’s image.”

She places her phone and the document behind her, and takes a few steps towards him.

He glances down at her, at the way the low light of the lamps and the fireplace glows against her skin, the contented sort of look in her eyes. 

Her eyes flicker down at his now empty glass. “Refill, sir?” Her lips stay slightly parted once she stops speaking.

Then he realises he’s staring.

“No, thank you,” he mutters, tapping his finger against the glass. “I should probably stop now.”

She takes the glass from him with her middle finger and thumb, avoiding touching his hand before she takes it away. Maybe it’s the alcohol getting to his head but his heart sinks at the lack of contact.

What is he doing? It must be after 9pm now and he’s still keeping her here without a real reason. 

She’s standing by the drinks cabinet, carefully placing the crystal bottle of whisky away and setting the empty glass out for housekeeping to clean up in the morning.

Instead of thinking about her, the way her hair looks, the way her skirt hugs her waist and the curve of her backside and thighs, he tries to think about how much he hates Aegon. This only makes him more agitated.

He closes his eyes and throws his head against the wall. His heart is racing and there’s a hollow feeling in his chest. He’s craving something, not another drink, not a smoke (he quit once he was first elected as an MP). He wants something else, something dangerous and damning. 

The heels of her shoes tap softly against the floor, until she’s standing in front of him.

He opens his eyes.

She frowns slightly before lifting her hand and delicately placing it on his shoulder. “You need to relax, sir,” she says.

He lets out a low “hmm,” as he weighs out his options. This seems like a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

“That’s not going to happen with you here,” he says.

Her calm, somewhat smug expression falls. She looks so innocent now, so sweet. “What does that mean?” she says.

He leans in closer to her, until the tip of his nose barely brushes against hers. “I think you know what it means, darling.”

She hesitates, before her mouth spreads into an eager smile that shows off her teeth.

Her hands find his, ensnaring him under a soft but commanding grip. She leads him away from the wall, to the sofa by the fireplace. 

He settles on it, leaning against the arm as she comes to her knees before him, spreading his legs apart to make room for herself.

She palms her hand over the hardness that’s been straining painfully against his trousers for hours now. She feels along his clothed cock, pressing her cheek against it and gazing up at him with a look of teasing innocence.

Aemond knows he is done for, jaw slack, chest rising and falling as he breathes. He would have never presumed he would find himself in this kind of position, not after all the work’s he’s had to do cleaning up the mess of Aegon’s fuck ups, not after working this hard to get where he is, and least of all because he believes himself to be a decent man. 

But he doesn’t stop her as her fingers undo the button and the zip on his trousers, and he doesn’t make any kind of protest as she takes his freed cock in her hand and teasingly strokes along it. 

He keeps his hands firmly on the sofa, digging his fingertips and his nails into the leather, as if he hasn’t been dreaming of having her like this for weeks, as if he hasn’t fucked his own hand countless times pretending it was her.

He doesn’t have to pretend anymore. He looks down, his jaw slack, barely containing his strained breaths, and there she is, doe-eyed and eager as she places a delicate kiss to his flushed tip. Her lips barely brush against him before she pulls away, keeping a hold at the base.

His arousal stains her mouth and she fucking grins.

“Enjoying yourself?” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir,” she says, sweetly, earnestly.

He runs his hand against her hair, gently, as if trying to soothe her. It seems to take her by surprise which only serves to excite him further.

She leans into his touch, lips parting, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy.

Until he grips his fist and pulls. He tilts her head up. It shouldn’t hurt, but it’s enough to bring her attention back to him.

He decides he won’t tell her what to do, not directly, but she’s a smart girl, she knows what he wants. 

With her eyes wide again, she opens her mouth and inches his cock past her lips. The tightness in his gut starts to burn as she works up and down his length, slowly– excruciatingly slowly. It’s not in anyway relaxing, he thinks, but it’s a nice kind of torture.

He loses himself to the warmth and the wetness of her mouth, her tongue running over the underside of his cock, her lips teasing over the tip before she moves back down, using her hands where her mouth can’t reach.

He chokes out a throaty “fuck,” knowing there’s a security guard outside the door, and probably a few of the staff still lingering about. 

But she looks so beautiful like this, her brow furrowed in determination as she tries to take him deeper and deeper, desperate to please him, happy to make him suffer for it. And the little noises she makes, the gags and the moans. He imagines that she likes this, that she’s been wanting this for as long as he has, and if he pulled her onto his lap and slid his fingers under her skirt, he’d find her drenched.

She starts to up the pace until he brings his hand to the side of her face again, his hand large enough that he can rest his palm against her cheek and tease his fingers through her hair. Her eyes dart up to his, wide and teary. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, “nice and slow, just like that.”

She whimpers around him, breathing desperately through her nose.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he coos, “you started this, didn’t you? Wanted to taste me? Wanted to feel my cock in your mouth?”

She hums in agreement.

“Just fucking take it then,” he says with a clenched jaw, gripping her hair to bob her head up and down, keeping that torturous pace.

The pleasure builds slowly, running hotly through his body, but he fights the urge to clamp both hands around her head and buck his hips up to fuck her throat.

He comes harder than he thinks he ever has before, keeping himself sheathed within her as he paints the inside of her mouth, and pulls her head away to see the last few drops spill against her lips.

She gazes up at him with dazed and glassy eyes. She’s panting, trying to catch her breath. Her forehead glistens with sweat, mascara runs down her face and his spend drips over her chin.

He wipes some of the mess away with his thumbs, cradling her face in his hands. “Swallow,” he orders.

Her mouth closes and her throat bobs. He can already feel the tension in his gut tightening again.

If only he could keep her like this forever.

She makes it to Hightower House at the usual time of 8am, despite leaving work so late last night. Despite the hours she spent consumed by thoughts of Aemond Targaryen as she rode the train and dragged herself into her bed. Despite the aching arousal that went unfulfilled. Despite the marks on her knees and the stiffness in her jaw.

When she walks into Alys’ office to sign in, she’s already there, perfectly poised and typing away on her laptop. 

“Morning,” she says brightly.

Alys looks up from the screen. The white light shining from below makes her face look a little eerie. “Morning,” she says with a smug look on her face.

She ignores it, scrawling down the time and her signature beside her name.

“You were working rather late last night,” Alys says.

“Yeah, I was,” she mutters, placing the pen down and straightening her spine.

Alys is staring at her. Her eyes are unnervingly bright. “He never asks Maris to work late.”

Her heart drops.

It’s like she can feel the weight of him in her mouth, the taste of him on her tongue.

“I bet he’s just realised I’m more of a people pleaser,” she says.

Alys hums and smiles. “Yeah?”

She doesn’t have time for this. She hangs up her coat and her bag, and picks up two black coffees from the coffee machine in the kitchenette down the hall.

Aemond is in his office, leaning back in his chair with his mobile pressed to his ear. He doesn’t react much when he sees her, he just watches her as she sets one of the cups in front of him. He raises his eyebrows in thanks and brings it to his lips.

She imagines the person on the other end of the call is starting to bore him.

“Yeah… yeah… I know… well there’s not much to be done now but get it over with.”

She takes a few sips from her own cup, wiping the corners of her mouth. Aemond follows her fingers as she does.

“I’ll speak to you after. Yes, thank you, grandfather.” He hangs up the phone and tosses it onto a stack of papers on the desk. “Seven fucking Hells.”

“How did that go?” she asks.

Aemond rolls his eyes and huffs a tired laugh. “He wants to talk through candidates for the by-election in Duskendale. I said I’ll think about it if I survive PMQs.”

She sets her coffee cup down. “What are you most worried about? You’ve prepared for this. What’s worrying you?”

Aemond taps his fingers against the desk. She tries not to ignore the thrill it sends through her belly.

“I’ve never had to deal with something like this. I’ve never been this worried about the party’s image, but that’s usually because I do everything right.”

The whole Aegon situation is beyond his control, and yet he’ll be getting the scrutiny for it.

“People need to be able to trust you,” she says.

Aemond looks up at her expectantly.

“Is Aegon still a party member?” she asks.

Aemond’s expression darkens. “That was discussed. Otto wants him to remain an official member.”

“You’re the Prime Minister. Put your foot down.”

“I can’t,” he says, standing and fixing the rolled up sleeves and undone buttons on his shirt before he reaches for his tie.

“You can’t afford not to. If you go easy on Aegon, Rhaenyra’s going to play to some kind of ‘the Greens are anti woman card.’ Your voters need to know you’re taking this seriously.”

“And throw my own brother under the bus?” he says, sternly.

But she can tell he’s still nervous. His hands are shaking as he ties the tie around his neck.

She pauses, wondering where the line is here. Aegon Targaryen will be fine. He’ll be put under investigation and keep getting bad press for a while, but he can live off daddy’s money in the meantime, and in a few years the whole scandal will be forgotten.

She takes a few steps towards him and comes close enough to smell the dark, boozy smell of his perfume, and shoos his hands away.

“What would be better for the country,” she asks, tilting her head and keeping her eyes focused as she fastens his tie, “presenting yourself as a leader who is committed to integrity and respect, or leaving yourself open to further criticism?”

She pushes the knot up tightly against his collar for emphasis.

Aemond just smirks. “You’re very persuasive,” he says.

“That’s my job, sir.”

She gasps as his hand grabs her hip and pulls her against him. His breath runs hotly over her face as he tilts her chin up to look at him. His throat hums as he breathes.

She could fall apart then and there.

Until a knock on the door has her practically shoving him away.

Aemond chuckles and shrugs on his suit jacket. “Enter,” he calls.

She turns her back to the door to hide the flustered look on her face, pretending to look through a bookshelf that she’s never really looked at properly before.

“Car for you, sir,” Alys says from the doorway.

Aemond calls for her by her surname. Fuck– she was supposed to pack his briefcase before he left. She takes a breath and goes about collecting all the pages of notes and briefings he’ll need. 

She brings it to him, and notices Maris standing in the hallway behind Alys. Maris usually goes with him to the Red Keep for PMQs, but today he requests that she accompany him. She supposes it makes sense, she’s been the one helping him prepare after all.

Maris’ face is a storm. Alys looks down at her feet and tries to stifle a giggle.

The next few hours are a blur. She trails after Aemond through the ornate corridors, keeping her eyes on his silver hair, flowing down the back of his black suit jacket. Somewhere along the way, Cole and the head of security, a man Aemond greets as “Mr Westerling”, joins them.

They leave through the front entrance, into the sharp September air and into a black car. The hum of the engine and the smell of leather makes her nauseous, but they’re only in the car for a matter of minutes before the door swings open and she’s been ushered towards the Red Keep.

Once a seat of Kings, now the red stone castle seems a little out of place with the rest of the city. This is where Parliament gathers.

As they walk through its halls, Aemond tells her to throw a few questions at him. She has them all memorised in her head, able to recite a few without really thinking about it. Aemond mutters the answers they’ve rehearsed under his breath, smiling politely and waving as they pass by civil servants, MPs, Green and Black party members alike. They even pass Cregan Stark, leader of the Northern Independence party. He whispers all of their names in her ear.

There’s a small room where Aemond waits in before he enters the Great Hall. She can hear the noise and the chatter on the other side of the double doors, engraved with the same crest that marks the gates to Hightower House.

He won’t stop moving, adjusting his tie and his cuffs, tutting and pursing his lips.

She makes sure Cole and Westerling are muttering to each other before she leans into Aemond, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” she whispers, “don’t see it as a chance for them to criticise you, see it as an opportunity for you to reassure everyone else of how brilliant you are.”

Aemond turns his head towards her. He’s not touching her but she feels the proximity.

“That’s an interesting way to look at it,” he says.

She smiles. “It’s all perspective.”

Before Aemond is called into the hall, Cole directs her to the gallery, above the benches where the MPs sit.

She and Aemond meet eyes before she leaves. She stops herself from reaching for him, not wanting to leave his side.

“Good luck,” she says.

As if he needs it. She watches everything unfold from the gallery, the MPs sat below her like she’s watching a play in a theatre.

Aemond starts off with an amazing opening speech which, at her recommendation, doesn’t shy away from the issue of the whole Aegon scandal. He affirms his commitment to ensuring that central government is a safe and inclusive working environment, which is when he announces Aegon’s resignation as an MP, as well as his removal from the Green Party.

The chamber in an uproar. A few members of the Green Party make a bit of a fuss, but mostly Aemond’s announcement is applauded, even by a good number of Black Party members.

Rhaenyra, Aemond’s sister and predecessor, is at a loss for words, as is her deputy, Daemon.

Aemond seems to get a boost of confidence from this and takes every question in his stride, using elements from the answers she had rehearsed with him and even throwing in a few one liners which has half the room cheering him.

And he’s fucking hot when he’s cocky.

While he speaks all she can think of is how he sounded while she was between his legs. “Good girl… just fucking take it…” she has to clench her fists and her jaw at the wave of arousal that rises within her.

Afterwards she walks with him to the car. A whole host of Green Party members crowd him as they walk through the hallways, praising him, commending him. He smiles graciously, looking over his shoulder every so often to look at her, to make sure she’s not fallen behind.

The silence of the car is unbearable with Cole and Westerling in the front, and Aemond beside her, drumming his fingers against his thigh and running his other hand through his hair.

She presses her thighs at the obvious arousal pooling at her centre.

Seven hells, she’s acting like she’s in heat.

She follows Aemond back through Hightower House, past Alys’ office, to his own office. When he closes the door behind them, he locks it.

She leans against the desk, keeping her hands on the wood behind her.

Aemond turns back to her with a ravenous look in his pale blue eyes. He reaches into his pocket, effortlessly pulling his hair into a low bun, as he usually does in informal company.

She can’t take her eye off him as he tosses his jacket over the sofa, and begins to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. Then he stalks towards her, his chin tilted down and his lips in a tight line, until he’s close enough to paw at her waist. 

“I suppose I should thank you for your help,” he says, eyes fixed on his hands as they tease over the fabric of the red mini skirt she had picked out this morning, the way she squirms underneath him.

“Oh,” she breathes. One of his hands trails up, untucking her blouse from her skirt and brushing his fingertips against the bare skin underneath. “Just… doing my job, sir.”

He hums to himself as his hand works its way round to her backside, squeezing gently. “Do you like calling me ‘sir’?”

She can’t help but nod, dazed at the feeling of his hands tracing the shape of her body.

“Yeah, I think you do,” he says, leaning in to press a slow, firm kiss to her neck.

Her resolve is shattered. She throws her hands around his neck, pulling herself into him, desperate to feel him against her, to stay close to him.

She almost whines when he moves away, much to his amusement, feeling her mouth fall into a pout.

“Don’t tell me I’ve got a brat,” he says, taking her chin in his hand. “Are you going to be good for me, pet?”

“Yes, sir,” she utters.

“See? You don’t even need to be told,” he says with a smile. “You’re going to turn around and lean over the desk.”

She follows his instructions without missing a beat, bracing herself on her forearms, against the surface. She feels her skirt being pushed up over her hips, her tights and panties pulled down in one go, fingertips trailing over her thighs. Then she feels his breath against the wetness of her bare pussy. 

She can’t help but let out a quiet moan, pressing her nails into the wood in anticipation.

“Haven’t even fucking touched you yet, are you that desperate for me?”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpers, trying to look over her shoulder.

Aemond’s hand finds its way against her head, pressing her down. And he doesn’t let go.

His fingers drag through her folds, teasing her entrance and her clit before he slides in a single digit. It feels so different from her own, longer and thicker, pressing into her at an unfamiliar angle. She feels utterly weightless, the obscene sound of him moving in and out of her only adding to her arousal.

Aemond’s voice is dark and husky, as it was last night. “Good girl,” he coos, “that feels good, doesn’t it?”

When she doesn’t reply, he withdraws and lands a stinging slap against her cheek, before he pushes into her again. “Answer me,” he says, clearly and firmly.

“Yes, sir,” she says, frantically trying to nod against his hold of her head. “Feels so fucking good.”

He increases his speed, pumping in and out of her until her climax washes over her. It happens gradually, building and building before a pleasant numbness washes through her, to every corner of her body. 

While she comes down from her high, her attention is caught by the sound of a belt buckle and rustling fabric.

The tip of his cock presses into her without warning. He inches further and further in until he bottoms out, the material of his trousers pressing against her skin– the cunt hasn’t even bothered to take off his clothes.

He finally relents his hold of her head, grabbing at her waist as he ruts into her. It’s fast and primal, adrenaline pumping through her blood, Aemond’s fingers digging into her flesh, her breath coming out in moans, his belt buckle hitting the desk with every harsh thrust.

“Knew you were a little slut,” he grits out, grabbing at her cheeks and spreading them out to watch his cock moving in and out of her. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

She covers her mouth with her hand to hold back the wanton noises threatening to slip past her lips. 

Suddenly a hand comes to her shoulder, pulling her up against his chest. One hand kneads at her breasts through her blouse and her bra, while the other slips between her legs, tracing quick circles over her clit.

“I wanna feel you come,” he rasps into her ear, “wanna feel my good girl clench around my cock.”

She doesn’t know what to do with herself. She clings to his arms and digs her teeth into her bottom lip. She can feel herself hurtling towards her climax, if only he would move his fingers a little faster.

“Please,” she whispers.

“What was that, pet?” Aemond asks, brushing his lips over her cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come!” she whines. “Fuck– please… please, I just want to come, sir.”

She feels him smiling against her as his fingers rub faster over her clit. She can feel how deep he is inside her, how his cock bullies against that sensitive spot, over and over again, until her orgasm tears through her.

She tries to keep her mouth shut but she can’t help the pleading groan that hums in her throat. Aemond holds her as she falls apart, fucking her thoroughly through it all.

Until finally, he reaches his end, hissing through his teeth and pulling out to spill himself onto her pussy. She feels the warmth, how it drips through her folds, for now uncaring of the mess they’ve surely made.

Aemond keeps holding her against his chest. His forehead falls against the back of her head and his hot breath echoes over her neck. “I really appreciate the work you’ve done for me,” he says breathlessly. “I think you and I make quite a pair, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir,” she mewls, letting her head fall against his arm.

Aemond hums a laugh to himself, it rumbles in his chest and against her back. “So pretty and polite,” he coos, “how did I ever manage without you until now, pet?”

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria @targaryenrealnessdarling

A/n: I might do a part 2 to this so let me know if you would liked to be tagged :)