#spicy aemond

[lunarflux]

my dark companion (cont)

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre—smut, dark romance song inspo—sleep token - chokehold summary— Aemond indulges in his twisted desires with a woman who knows his every need. They meet in secret, their passion driven by his anger and her willingness to submit to his painful advances. Aemond craves her, yet despises the intimacy that follows. He questions why she always returned to him, knowing that she did not love or care for him. The cycle of desire and anger persists, leaving him yearning for more, caught in a tormented state until their next encounter. note: just like... a touch of smut (no, the second half is def smut). Takes place right after Rooks Rest.

After Aemond departed on Vhagar, Alicent found Adiel in his apartment. She was reading, as expected, and did not appear to be surprised at the visitor. Alicent sat beside her, forcing a smile.

“Are you well?”

Adiel grinned as she closed her book, “Quite. Though I’m sure my Queen is anxious at the thought of her son going to a battle.”

“Aemond can take care of himself,” Alicent nodded.

“Then what brought upon this sudden visit?”

Alicent didn��t know how to prod further about the nature of Adiel and Aemond’s relationship. Knowing now that Aegon had known about Aemond’s whereabouts in Flea Bottom, she now had more questions than before, though she knew neither of her sons would willingly give her the answers she desired.

Adiel waited patiently, folding her hands in her lap, “Something troubles you. Is it Aemond? Or His Grace, perhaps?”

“My sons have had a complicated relationship since infancy.”

“And yet, they still became men.”

Alicent almost scoffed.

“The King is bothered by me, is he not?” Adiel tilted her head in speculation.

Alicent, despite knowing better, was still surprised.

“The childish actions of a boy blessed with a crown do not concern me, my Queen. I am simply air in a space his lungs cannot reach—silent and out of the way, and yet my very existence bothers him.”

“Adiel, you are as unfamiliar to the King as you are to me. Lord Larys heard nary a whisper of you around the Keep, and you should know that is not common,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “You must see how we might have questions”

“I would find it peculiar if you didn’t.”

“You didn’t seem… particularly happy when presented with Aemond’s proposal,” Alicent started as she recalled the uncomfortable conversation, “And yet, my son seems… comfortable.”

“I wasn’t happy,” Adiel replied simply.

“Is this all a trick, then?”

“What?”

“You playing the role of a dutiful wife. Tending to his needs, filling his bed,” Alicent looked about the room, finding it to be pristine and put together.

Adiel’s laugh never sat right with Alicent’s stomach. Something about the way she reacted seemed so unusual, “He merely changed his position on the board, and it was one I was not familiar with.”

“So, it’s a game… You don’t love him.”

“Do you care if I love him?”

Alicent stared. Truthfully, yes, she cared. Though it seemed as if this was the first time she experienced this level of concern for the younger boy in some time.

“If that is the answer you’re searching for, then yes, I do love him. Only perhaps, it is not the love most people are familiar with.”

“I don’t understand.”

Adiel leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in thought, “He was always so sad.”

“Sad?”

“Could you not tell? Aemond speaks a language only I understand.”

“High Valyrian—”

“—Pain,” Adiel’s eyebrows furrowed, “His Grace might find himself if he found a woman who speaks that language.”

“Aegon is childish. Almost cruel, but he is more so ignorant.”

“Have you ever once tried to speak to your sons’ pain?” She asked suddenly, “Aemond’s only fault was that he let me see it once… The disappointment in his face that others overlooked. It only took a second for me to see what he needed. It wasn’t just a body in his bed—it was a recipient of his anger. An empty room to scream his pain—cast it out to the silence.

“A body that feels nothing is the only remedy for a soul that feels everything. I could not tell you which of us is the other. Only that he soon found himself whole. A man’s power resides, not in his loins, but in his awareness of his needs. He found what he needed, and I held it—dangled it in front of his face until it drove us both mad.”

Alicent’s face slowly twisted at her words, “That is not love, Adiel.”

“Is it not?” Adiel chuckled, “To desperately need someone, finding solace only in their touch—to bear all. Body, soul, shame, and all else we hold dear. I laid myself before him, and it was he who deemed me valuable. Love is a choice, my Queen. I chose him.”

“But are you sure he would choose you?”

“That… Is only something Prince Aemond would know. And I have yet to question otherwise,” Adiel smiled once more. “What is the reason you doubt your son’s intentions?”

“Aemond is… He’s detached,” Alicent tried to reason, “I’m sure you know what happened at Storm’s End. He already turned his back on his obligations with this marriage. You must understand why we have our suspicions.”

“Suspicions are normal when you don’t see things clearly, my Queen.”

Alicent sneered, almost finding the comment insulting.

“I see Aemond for what he is,” Adiel sat back again, “Do you?”

The elder continuously found herself speechless especially when faced with a foreign logic.

“I see a king trapped in a Prince’s body. A dragon imprisoned in a rider. I saw a boy’s pain turn into a man’s rage,” Adiel lowered her voice, “I cannot say the same for the others in this court. I do not control what I can see and what they cannot. Willful blindness is a deadly fault that isn’t easily unlearned.”

—

Aemond left Vhagar on the shores, quietly pushing passed the King’s Guard and to his apartment. There, Adiel sat by the fire, near sleep but still waiting for his return. She stirred as he shut the door, and the scent of dragon fire and smoke emitted from his coat. He approached her slowly, but she turned before he could reach her. The fatigue on her face left her eyes narrowed, drowsy but alluring.

He held out his hand, and she rose.

Adiel reached for the grayed streaks in his hair as the aroma of soot reached her.

“Not a scratch,” she hummed, running her fingers down his face before undoing the top knot on his jacket.

Aemond grabbed her wrist, holding it away. He stepped forward until Adiel’s back hit the wall. His grip tightened, and suddenly she felt his free hand around her neck.

“Down,” his eye bore into her, closer and closer, “On your knees.”

Aemond released his grip, and she lowered herself. She gazed upward as he undid his coat, casting it away before undoing his shirt. He ran his fingers through her hair before taking a fistful, pulling her head back to see him clearly as he continued to undress.

A gruff, deep groan pushed up passed his throat when her lips wrapped around his already engorged member. The sounds of her labored breaths each time his cock hit the back of her throat, knocking her back against the wall so she had nowhere else to turn, clouded over his mind, replacing all that had occurred hours before. He held himself inside her, feeling the trembles of her tongue as she struggled to breathe. Adiel held herself steady against his thigh until he pulled back, and she gasped with tears running down her cheeks.

Aemond forced her up.

It hadn’t been long since they’d last hungrily taken each other, but she could feel there was something different.

His eye flickered down as he cast away the leather patch to reveal the sapphire beneath, “Take it off.”

The switch was so subtle. Where his anger might have led him to push her onto his bed and take her without hesitation, it was only his command she chose to oblige to. She undid the ties on her dress, slowly—painfully slowly, and once she was bare, she led him to their bed. She leaned back and parted her legs.

Aemond positioned himself, but when Adiel thought he she would feel him, she sat up. He eased her back down with a slight shake of his head, “Patience.”

Adiel understood as he lowering himself until the scent of her enveloped him. When his tongue met her folds, she moaned, and her legs trembled at the sensation. As soon as she did, he stopped, staring at her until she bit her lip.

Silence.

Aemond placed his hands on her thighs and pulled her closer, so that she had no choice but to rest her legs on his shoulders as he continued—his lips rhythmically moving up and down, sipping every drop of her until it dripped down his chin. When her back arched, he released her, keeping her on the edge of sanity.

Adiel ached, and she did all she could to keep from twisting and writhing in the absence of his touch. Aemond placed his finger just above her lips, then trailed his hand down the curve of her chest, hovering so she could only feel the faintest bit of warmth.

“Aemond—”

“—I said, patience.”

Adiel did as she was told. He stood before her just watching as her chest rose and fell while the agony slowly washed over her face. He wanted to see her crave him until she went mad, to want him and then feel the pain of withdrawal.

Without taking his gaze off her, his fingers teased her core, one finger at a time dragging against her clit. She whimpered, closing her legs, but he forced her knees apart, holding one leg down to the bed as he continued. Mercilessly, twisting and turning, dipping into her core only for a moment, Aemond watched her struggle to hold back her moans until tears trickled down her cheeks.

He held out his hand and beckoned her. She met his fingers, taking them in her mouth. He stroked her hair gently and nodded at her obedience.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

“I—” Adiel struggled to catch her breath, “Please.”

“No,” he wrapped his fingers around her neck, “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me—please—”

Aemond squeezed tighter until the air caught in her throat, “Who do you belong to?”

“You—”

“—Who do you belong to,” he repeated.

“I belong to you, my Prince—”

“—King,” he grunted, roughly plunging his fingers deep inside her, “You belong to me.”

“—Yes,” she furiously nodded in between whimpers, “Yes, my King—”

Aemond threw her down, taking her fiercely without hesitation. He pinned her waist down, and with each thrust of his hips, the bed creaked beneath them. Adiel could no longer hold back her pleas, desperately clawing at his back. He grunted against her neck with her sweet cries fueling his motions.

He turned her over, arching her back, ruthlessly using her until he felt her push back into him.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Aemond pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her chest. He sank his teeth down into the base of her neck as her walls clenched around him. She purred in pleasure, trembling and shaking, but he didn’t stop until he was finished. Over and over, his hips pounded against her. Blood dripped down her chest, and her faint mews fueled him to continue.

Adiel held his hips, guiding him as his motions grew erratic. She whispered breathlessly, “Cum for me, my King.”

Aemond arms tightened around her, a drawn-out husky groan erupting from his throat as he emptied himself deep into her core. He held her as he caught his breath, peppering her neck with his lips. He rested his forehead against her back before falling back onto the bed. Adiel laid down beside him, kissing his chest.

“My King?”

Aemond sighed. He pulled her close to him again, and the affection in his kiss felt like nothing before. When he pulled back, he looked up at the ceiling, carefully searching for his words, “Aegon is injured.”

Adiel sat up, looking at him with concern, “What do you mean? His Grace was at Rooks Rest?”

“That fool showed up with Sunfyre.”

“I don’t understand,” she shook her head, “Are you saying he might pass?”

He turned to face her, resting his head on his arm, “Not just yet. Though, he may be unwell for some time.”

“And what of his condition?”

“Dragon fire is deadly.”

Adiel knew without him needing to say anything else, “And you will rule in his stead?”

Aemond pulled her back to his chest. He stroked her hair softly, humming until he found the proper way to answer her question.

“So you will sit upon the Iron Throne…”

“For now.”

[endless-ineffabilities]

🦅

[thebeesareback]

Fucking hilarious that there's a huge amount of Aemond Targ porn out there and it's all talking about how sexy and domineering he is, but the show is making it increasingly clear that he's an insecure and emotionally stunted guy with sex/mummy issues. He doesn't want to fuck with the power of a dragon; he wants an older woman to stroke his hair and tell him she's proud of him

(no Fire and Blood spoilers, please!)

[bucknastysbabe]

Aemond: PUT EVERYONE TO THE SWORD! *looks at Alys* Not you though

Criston:

[minteaspoon]

BASED OFF OF “A Masterpiece of Mistakes”, author is anonymous

••••••••

What if in a modern au, the Targaryens and Hightowers find out that Luke - whom they had disowned from their family when he was finally let out of their control, and years of being subjected to hate from Green supporters - alongside being drugged constantly - had been dead months after his disownment. His official cause of death being a car accident, ramming his car into a tree after being struck by another vehicle.

The Velaryons had known, as they had been there in his last moments where Luke told them of his wish to not inform his family of his impending death. As a result, the Targaryens, specifically Luke’s former immediate family, go on an independent investigation of finding what really happened that led to his death, and find the person responsible.

However, it’s Aemond who’s the most disturbed and determined to find out who killed his nephew, whether it be intentional or not. He finds out that the accident seems to be semi-fabricated, and finds plot holes and inaccuracies in Rhaena and Baela’s claims, suspiciously cleaned up by Corlys and Rhaenys - his investigations were always thwarted, disturbed or distracted from by the Velaryons, who always seemed to gaze at him with such contempt, hatred and anger - barely concealed by a lie of forced politeness.

He knows they know more than they say, and he intends to find out what really happened to his nephew. And whether he’s really and truly dead as the Velaryons claim.

[achaoticeternal]

thots on aemond and hair-pulling? like as a curly-haired person i didnt think i would enjoy this (bc the regimen to manage it is tedious sometimes) but then i imagine that aemond would be the type to ask before doing so, seeing how neat his hair is and im just like 🥵 consent before touching 🥺 ya boi would understand haur care struggles

|| tw: spice and aemond

ask box

Aemond definitely has love of hair pulling and just his s/o’s hair in general. When you’re alone, he’ll braid small pieces or recoil the strand. His touch is always super soft in small moments like this because he definitely knows what it feels like when you braid your hair a little too tight or brush it too rough

but in the bedroom...

he leaves to weave his fingers into the hair at the back of the head and to the nape of your neck. he uses that position to pull you to him in a passion filled, to force you look into his eyes while he tops you, or to pull your back flush to his chest while taking you from behind. 

and that is his hand placement 99% percent if the time because it didn’t damage your hair harshly, but tugged enough to still make it pleasureable for both of you.

aemond would also be a fan of have his haired pulled - but only in certain activities. if he’s going down on you, he’d growl with every tug. whether you are pulling him closer or force him away from over stimulating you, he wants that roughness. 

[kanariorey]

😳😈

[emilykaldwen]

just FYI I'm on vacation with my beloved so if you're messaging me on here, I will be delayed! Kinda taking a lil tumblr break while we're at it BUT

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy Chapter Seventeen was updated this week

If you're following @vampire-exgirlfriend's fantastic fic, They Say I Killed You (Haunt Me Then), she's posted the epilogue and it is NOW COMPLETE!!

[helaenasaegon]

Where is my Almost Fistfight between Aegon & Jace over Jace dancing with Helaena?! WHERE IS IT?!?

Now it’s just Aegon sitting at the table, looking confused and then salty?!? 😒 (Something which people ignored in favor of “Aemond looks upset!!!” 🙄)

[daenysx]

i'm just curious loves; do you like it when a fluffy shot turns smutty at some point or would you prefer fluff only??

i know it kinda depends on content but i just wanted to ask your opinions in general ♡

[bbygirl-aemond]

I am so in love with your story! And I can’t wait for the feast and then the marital “consummation” between the 3. I’m curious as to whose POV it’ll be or it will be all 3?

aww thank you! yeah it's going to be... eventful to say the least ahahaha. next chapter is two povs: daeron's for the feast, and aemond's for the wedding night!

[feyhunter78]

Turn of the Tide, Call of the Sea

Description: Aemond attempts a rescue mission, Alyra and Helaena bond, a small battle, leads to a heated encounter between Alyra and Aemond that changes his course.

Aemond stood at the bow of the ship, squinting against the storm. In his fondness for his sister, he had visited her room and found a drawing of the man from her dreams that had fallen beneath her bed. It bore a striking resemblance to the pirate Jacaerys, and when he heard her ship had been destroyed by a Targaryen ship, he knew what had occurred. He set out at once, commandeering the fastest ship his grandfather would give him and used the information Aegon had collected to plot a course.

The cowardly captain of this ship warned him of sailing through the storm, but Aemond would not leave his precious sister in the hands of pirates.

His mind wandered back to Lady Alyra as he started into the raging sea. She often found her way back to his thoughts, even more as he investigated her family’s tragedy.

Amina Hawthorne married Marcell Laurent, they had three children, Allora, Alyra, and Theo. Allora died when she was eighteen, killed by her husband, Alyra and her mother were presumed missing, while Theo at the age of 8 perished in the flames with his father.

There were rumors about Amina Hawthorne, she came from a distant fishing village, and seemed to have charmed Marcell overnight. The couple was well liked in their social circle, but all agreed there was a strangeness to Amina, her eyes were too bright, her words too fluid. She charmed all who met her, but her touch was cold.

“Those with seawater in their veins will leave you without breath.” Helaena had said to him once, during one of her strange fits.

He’d dismissed her words, but now he pondered them once more, had Alyra done something to him, perhaps she was a witch and cast a spell upon him?

He remembered her warmth though, how her hands had fit perfectly in his, how she laughed and aided his scheme to avoid Cassandra. Perhaps her mother was a witch and had cursed her daughter, or she’d been stolen by the Targaryen pirates and forced to steal for them. That sounded more reasonable to him. A true lady, one pure of heart as Lady Alyra was, could never willingly commit such horrid crimes.

“Lord Aemond, please come inside, the waves are growing higher and the Captain will not continue our course until you are out of the storm.” One of the crew called to him.

He pushed away from the railing and followed the man inside, daydreaming about how happy Helaena and Alyra would be when he came to rescue them.

“And then I set the building ablaze, dove off the dock, and swam all the way back to the ship with three bags of gold coins attached to my waist. My arms were as heavy as cannonballs the next day.” Alyra groaned, smiling as she entertained Helaena with stories of her exploits with Jacaerys.

Helaena had come to her in the morning after they’d been introduced, her face green and a hand over her mouth.

“How did you survive the swim? Gold is heavy.”

Alyra pursed her lips as she held a hand over Helaena’s stomach. “Are you taking Heart Berries?”

“Heart Berries? What is that?” Helaena asked, fiddling with the embroidery on her skirt.

“A fertility herb.” Alyra said, rummaging through her cabinets.

“Am I with child? I wasn’t aware it could take so quickly.” Helaena’s voice was tinged with panic.

“No, no, I can just sense the herb affecting your internal balance.” She pulled out a bottle of white pills. “I can heal you, but you’re not truly seasick.”

“All I’ve taken is the seasickness medicine Tobias’ doctor gave me.” She fished the bottle out and handed it to Alyra, who held it up to the torchlight.

“These are Heart Berry pills. Your intended must have wanted you to be prepared once you arrived.” Anger surged through her. How many times would male physicians harm their female patients on the whims of other men? He didn’t even know if she would have even worse side effects than the nausea, and yet he gave them to Helaena.

Helaena blanched. “He lied?”

“That is why I don’t trust male doctors.” She placed the bottle in her cabinet and pressed the white pills into Helaena’s hand. “I will heal you, but if you find yourself sick again take one of these. If it doesn’t work come back and see me.”

Helaena stood and thanked her, heading towards the door. “Oh, Alyra, you never told me how you survived the swim?”

Alyra had her back to Helaena and continued to crush the eucalyptus leaves as she’d been doing before Helaena arrived. “My mother was an excellent swimmer, she taught me everything she knew.”

“I can swim, but perhaps you teach me your ways?”

Alyra turned and gave Helaena a smile. “Once we reach Dragonstone, I would be more than happy to help you improve upon your skills.”

Helaena left and Alyra returned to her task. Grinding the leaves into a paste took her mind off the storm. Instead, she thought on what Helaena had said, of her prophetic dreams. Her mother had told her stories of those who saw through the veil, who could touch the core of the arcane and return with bits of knowledge.

They’d traveled a long way despite the storm, and Aemond felt as if Helaena and Alyra were just beyond his reach. The captain said they were coming into calmer waters, where ships laid anchor during storms. Aemond slept fitfully, Alyra danced into and out of his reach, as the Hightower manor burned down around them. He sat up with a start, pushing his hair back.

An impact rocked the ship, and he pulled on his trousers, padding over to the porthole. There, the three-headed dragon flag flapped in the wind atop the mask of a massive ship.

He pulled off his nightshirt, trading it for a tunic and grabbed his sword, rushing to the deck. There was a flurry of activity, and he saw the Vermax had hooked onto his ship. Planks of wood lay between them, and the sound of gunshots rang out.

He unsheathed his sword and ran across the nearest plank. Surely his sister and sweet Alyra wouldn’t be fighting.

Alyra stood outside Jacaerys quarters, trusty pistol Ziras in hand. Helaena was hidden inside a wardrobe with strict order not to make a sound. Alyra itched to cross the planks and join the fight, but she knew the Hightower ship was here for Helaena.

The battle would be over soon, the Hightower ship was built for speed, not combat, and the Vermax’s crew vastly outnumbered the Hightower crew. If she was a betting woman, she’d bet Jacaerys would be bolting back here covered in blood and desperate to see Helaena within the next five minutes.

That did not stop her from complaining, though. “I told Jace we should’ve left, but no, he wished to wait until all the Heart Berries had left her system.” She mumbled to herself.

Footsteps came down the stairs, and she raised Ziras, her hand steady.

A man she didn’t recognize wielding a sword began to charge, and she shot him. He collapsed.

“Clean shot, right through the forehead, I’ll have to add that to my tallies.” She patted herself on the back and waited.

Aemond pushed past the dead bodies of the Hightower crewmen, the Vermax was big, bigger than the Hightower vessel, and he had no idea where to look. He wandered down the nearest stairs, more bodies lay strewn about, and the smell of gunpowder was thick in the air. He walked carefully through the maze of hallways until he heard a shot ring out. Aemond followed the sound, then skidded to a halt.

There just around the corner was his sweet Alyra, a smoking pistol in her hand. She blew out the smoke, and he felt a wave of lust wash over him at the action.

He sheathed his sword and approaches her carefully. It was only natural that she would be fearful of any newcomers, his poor lady.

“Lady Alyra.” He called softly.

She turned towards his voice, pistol at the ready.

“Fear not, I have come to rescue you and my sister.” He stepped into her eyeline, and she did not lower her weapon.

“Rescue? Your grandfather sent her to wed an old man and didn’t even check if there was a proper physician on board, she could’ve died.” She shifted her stance. “We rescued her, and I won’t let you take her to that lecher.”

Aemond’s heart sang at the protectiveness Alyra had for his sister, he was delighted they’d become so close, it boded well for their relationship as good-sisters.

“I will not force Helaena to marry Tobias, she can marry another, we can find her another suitor.”

Alyra raised an eyebrow. “We? Who is we?”

“You and I, us. Once I have whisked you and Helaena to safety, the captain of my ship will wed us, and together we will find a proper suitor for Helaena.” He stepped closer and she cocked her pistol.

He froze, hand on his sword. “Alyra, please, I have played your game, do not torment me further.”

“Game? There was no game.” She said firmly, chin tilted up.

“You stole my signet ring; it was your plea for me to rescue you.” He motioned to the ring that rested against her chest.

With her free hand, she tucked it under her shirt. “My apologies, Lord Aemond, but I did not steal your ring in a desperate cry for help. I stole it because I could.” She stepped closer to him, pistol aimed for his heart. “I am a pirate, I steal things.”

He shook his head. “No, you are Lady Alyra Laurent, and clearly the Targaryen’s have corrupted your mind.” He held a hand out to her. “Allow me to return you to your rightful place.”

Alyra tilted her head. “My rightful place is as First Mate of this ship, as the one who married your sister and my captain.” A wicked smile spread on her lips. “The one who was forced to hear their cries as your sister willingly gave my captain her maidenhood.”

Aemond unsheathed his sword and held it to her throat. “Cease your falsehood, my sister would never lay with a pirate.”

Alyra giggled, and the sound pierced his heart. He’d longed to hear her laugh since she’d fled his presence those few weeks ago. “Your sister is a pirate bride; her skin bares the marks of their love. It was a beautiful ceremony, pity you missed it.”

He growled and dropped his sword, crashing his lips onto Alyra’s. She kept his pistol pressed into his body, but lowered it. It dug into his abdomen as she fisted her hand in his hair and pulled him closer, nipping at his bottom lip. “I will not miss our ceremony, that I swear to you.”

She snorted, and yanked his head back, his lips trailing fire down the skin of his neck. He groaned when she nipped at his pulse point, and she marked him, before continuing to press open mouthed kisses down to his chest. “You would marry a pirate?” She questioned, oh so sweetly, that his hands gripped her hips for support.

He didn’t answer, so she stowed her gun and pulled him forward by his belt loops, his hips colliding with hers.

 She stared up at him from beneath her eyelashes, bottom lip stuck out in a pout, as she ran her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. The ministrations made his eye flutter closed involuntarily. “No I—”

“You do not wish to be my husband?” She asked, voice dripping with disappointment. Heated lips pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, then his cheek, then brushing right over his scar. “You do not wish for me to be yours ?”

His knees felt weak, and he pulled her to the ground with him. “Be mine, Alyra, I beg of you, or plague my mind no longer.” He choked out.

 It took all his willpower not to take her here, with a battle raging outside. She would be so sweet, whimpering beneath him, clinging to him as he thrust into her heat at a blinding speed. She would cry his name and he would whisper his declarations of love in her ear as she came down from her high, her soft body pressed against him. Oh, how pretty she would look, lips kiss bruised, chest covered in his marks and her pupils blown wide with desire.

Alyra looped her arms around his neck, nails scratching the sensitive nape of his neck. She pushed him further to his knees and straddled him. “The battle is done, your crew is dead, we will set fire to your ship, and you may join it.” She kissed the tip of his nose, and his eye opened, meeting her golden gaze. “Or you may remain here with me, your sister, and the rest of our pirate crew.”

Aemond’s hands still anchored themselves on her hips, and he bit his lip when she shifted them, feeling his growing arousal. “You temptress.” He hissed out, eye hooded as he looked at her, a growing desire to claim her within him.

“Your temptress.” She countered, dipping her head to connect their lips once more.

His, his temptress, his Alyra, his wife. How could he deny her when she looked at him so sweetly, when she’d played him so cleverly. There truly was no other for him but her.

He nodded. “Mine. I will remain here with you, on the condition that you are mine, I will not share, and when we find the nearest septon we will marry.”

Alyra brushed the hair back from his face. “My cousin could marry us if you did not wish to wait.” She offered, that same wicked smile on her face.

“Alyra? Helaena?” Jacaerys voice rang down the stairs.

 Alyra stood holding a hand out to him. “Speak of him and he shall appear.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess

[lightningandfireinmybones]

no bc y’all drunk milly last night,,, Emma desperately trying to keep it together for both of them with their arm around her,,, their fingers rubbing milly’s side as milly just happy and drunk and Emma playing the role of respectable™️ for both of them it has INSPIRED ME

Bc imagine modern valaemond, Valaena drunk off her ass at some important event and maybe Aemond’s had a few too but he never gets plastered in public and aemond is so pleased bc drunk Valaena is just clinging to him and laughing and burying her face in his shoulder to hide her laughter and aemond keeps his arm around her, thumb brushing over her ribs to keep her grounded

And he loves seeing her happy and keeping her safe while she has her fun but that thumb over the ribs says possessive and protective too and like he’s definitely punching someone later for making a suggestive comment

[moongirldreamer]

CEE today I ate a dish called 'chilaquiles' that kinda looks like this. And it's so good but also spicy and very loaded with lots of cream and cheese and sauce and I couldn't stop thinking about baby boy Aemond trying yet another one of our traditional dishes and being such a good sport because he loves us, but dying inside lmao

Ahhhhh that looks absolutely delicious Irma ughhh my stomach is grumbling

Aww he's trying his best but it's okay we'll all have matching runny noses after eating 😂

[nerys-nerie]

I really wish to write something but I have no idea where to start or what to write.

[dulcewrites]

What if Aemond and reader are both betrothed to other people but they want each other or she’s betrothed to Aegon but Aemond likes her type of thing

Hmmm I’m intrigued. I like the idea of Aemond swooping in and “stealing” someone.

Like imagine if vaemond had a kid or even a much younger sister (to him and Corlys). Instead of coming in hot in ep 8 (which truly made no sense lmao), he gets the idea of if I can’t have it myself, I can maneuver pieces to get it. So he tells Rhaenyra that oc will marry luke. Rhaenyra is like sure, bc keep your friends close but your enemies closer. While oc/reader is like :// bc luke is basically a boy and she hates the idea of having to go through some guy (and a bastard at that) for something that could be her birthright.