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My Top 9 Favorite Films I Watched in 2023 (First Time)

Napoléon (1927) | dir. Abel Gance

Cat People (1942) | dir. Jacques Tourneur

Les Vampires (1915-16) | dir. Louis Feuillade

The Big Heat (1953) | dir. Fritz Lang

Fantômas (1913-14) | dir. Louis Feuillade

M (1931) | dir. Fritz Lang

Notorious (1946) | dir. Alfred Hitchcock

Asphalt (1929) | dir. Joe May

Mean Streets (1973) | dir. Martin Scorsese

*My Top 9 Favorites of 2022

Boardwalk Empire: 2.07 | 3.10

I'm bad with words, i hope you're good in reading eyes.

Source: Art is ours

HANNIBAL + Text Posts 16/∞

hannigram — S1  HANNIBAL (2013-2015) / S2, S3

Dragon's Fury

Summary: Your daughter gets into trouble for defending her father.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Dad Aemond. Protective dad Aemond (now we know who his daughter takes after).

A/N: If you’ve read Of Flowers & Dragons and Moonbloom, you will be familiar with this. But you can also read it as a stand-alone.

Word count: 1k

“Kepa…. ke-pa.”

Lifting your eyes from the book, you felt a warm smile grown on your face as you watched Aemond Targaryen sitting on a chair with his babbling son of one.

The small babe sat on his lap, tiny hands reaching out to grasp the dragon pins that adorned his leather coat, clearly not interested in repeating after his father.

“You should practice with the word for mother,” you said teasingly. “It’d be much faster.”

Aemond’s eye met yours as he propped the babe on his feet so he could stand on his lap. “That one he already utters perfectly,” he said, pointing his finger at you.

Your son turned his wobbly head in your direction, smiling widely and revealing two tiny lower front teeth . “Mu…ña! Muña!” he then broke into a giggle.

“My dragon,” you cooed at him from a distance, allowing your heart to melt into a puddle. “You do love mother the most, don’t you?”

Aemond arched an eyebrow as the babe in his arms bounced happily. “Playing favourites, are we?”

“You already have our daughter’s undivided devotion,” you said with a chuckle. “Let me have my dragon, too.”

“I thought I was your dragon,” he said, narrowing his eye ever so slightly.

The smile on your face grew wider at his antics, but the moment was cut short as grunts and screams were heard outside.

Aemond immediately rose to his feet, lifting his son up against his chest, tension heavy on his face.

The unmistakable voice of your daughter had your heart speed up.

The door to your bedchamber was violently pushed open, as Ser Criston Cole walked in, carrying the young child of seven tightly under one arm. A smaller version of Aemond’s eyepatch covered her left eye, rendering her a smaller copy of her father.

“Let go of me!” she snarled, wriggling under his grip before letting out a string of profanities in High Valyrian.

You immediately glaced at Aemond. “Who… taught her those?”

His jaw tightened. “Aegon, no doubt.”

The babe in his arms was staring at the commotion with utmost curiosity, closing one fist around some of his father’s long silver strands of hair and dragging them to his mouth.

Aemond didn’t seem to take notice as Cole finally dropped his daughter on her feet. “What is the meaning of this?”

Queen Alicent appeared from behind them in an emerald green dress, eyes fixed on her granddaughter. “You will explain what happened.”

“Mother,” Aemond greeted.

You followed suit with a bow. “Your grace.”

At this point, your daughter had crossed both arms firmly over her chest, snapping her head to the side to avoid the multiple sets of eyes on her.

“Ser Criston,” Alicent nodded before pursing her lips.

“She was sparring with a Lannister lordling in the courtyard,” he began. “I turned my back for a moment and next thing I knew she was on top of him swinging fists at the boy.”

You widened your eyes in sheer horror. “Why would you do that?”

She remained silent and unmoving.

“Such actions are unbecoming of a young princess,” the queen spoken harshly, but her voice void of any anger. “This is not how we raised you.”

“He deserved it,” she muttered under her breath.

“Did he hurt you?” Aemond asked, removing his son’s grip from his hair before sliding him into your arms.

There was a certain tension in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by his mother whose dark eyes flickered briefly as she gazed upon him.

He slowly dropped to one knee in front of his child, gripping her arms with that tenderness you had grown to love.

“Did he hurt you?” he repeated his words through gritted teeth.

She shook her head, still refusing to turn to face him.

“Look at me.”

Nothing.

He brought one hand to caress her cheek, just below the eyepatch, which earned a reaction from her as you heard a faint sob.

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke.”

She dropped both arms and turned her head to him, watering eyes meeting his, as a single tear streamed down her cheek which Aemond promptly rubbed away with his thumb.

Her lips were quivering. “He mocked me for wearing the eyepatch.”

Aemond clenched his jaw.

Your heart felt as if you had pins and niddles being pushed through your skin. Her shaky voice had the grip on your son tighten, realising just how vulnerable they could be.

“He… he said it was foolish and—” her voice faltered into silence and lowered her head.

Aemond gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “And what?”

“He mocked you, kepa…”

Alicent heaved a deep sigh and even Ser Criston couldn’t remain indifferent.

“Look at me,” Aemond said one more time, placing one finger under her chin until her eyes were on his. “Dragons do not concern themselves with the words of sheep.”

“But—”

“I will handle this,” he hushed her before turning to Ser Criston. “Cole, see to it that Lord and Lady Lannister are escorted out of King’s Landing at once along with their son.”

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard shifted his eyes to the queen instead.

“Aemond, that is—” Alicent started but had her son interrupt her immediately.

“Mother, I will not have my daughter be ridiculed by our guests,” he snarled and your could nearly feel the fire that coursed through his blood. “They may come for me, but never for my daughter. Ever.”

The babe in your arms whimpered faintly, hiding his face in your neck, probably able to feel the ever-growing tension around him. You rocked him lightly and planted a kiss to his head.

“Aemond, I am certain we can approach this differently,” his mother tried to reason with him once again.

“You once showed me how willing you were to have those who hurt me pay for what they did, mother,” he said, bringing his daughter to his chest. “I will have them leave King’s Landing on their own accord… or mine.”

The beautiful queen’s eyes quivered and you knew his words had cut deep and revived a painful memory within her.

He had lost an eye and justice was not seen that day from his father. Or any day that followed.

An eye for an eye.

Those who ever dared crossing Aemond Targaryen could only be advised to tread lightly or be met with the wrath of a dragon.

You felt tears pool in the corners of your eyes as your daughter laced her hands around his neck before he moved to stand up straight.

“I can assure you, mother. You would not like it if they were to leave on my accord.”

Outside, the thundering wail of a dragon cracked the skies of the city, shaking it to its very foundations.

Vhagar’s angry roar matched Aemond’s heart.

Moonbloom

Summary: Your daughter accompanies Aemond through the various stages of your pregnancy.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Pure fluff. Dad Aemond.

A/N: Can be read as part 2 of Of Flowers & Dragons, but also as a stand-alone. Hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 1.5k

It had been decided the previous day with Aemond that you’d tell her today.

The maesters had advised against it in case something went wrong as it had only been a couple of moons, but after weeks of withholding such information, today felt like the appropriate day.

Besides, you were starting to show.

Thankfully, Aemond was around already spending time with your daughter in the Red Keep’s gardens.

Targaryens took to the skies on their dragons, but she insisted on having her hands in soil and dirt, bringing seeds to life.

You watched from the balcony as your daughter of six knelt on the floor, hands and silver hair covered in dirt as she tended to her pots of colourful flowers.

Aemond stood nearby, looking elegant as ever.

But as you paced down the stone steps towards them, it was made clear both of them were bickering in High Valyrian.

A smile formed on your lips from the exasperated look on his face.

It was to be expected, after all.

Two dragons with fiery tempers were bound to clash.

He suddenly removed the tie that held his hair back and lowered himself to eye-level with the young child, bringing her unruly strands into a high knot.

She huffed in annoyance, pushing his hands away. “Kepa!”

It filled you with nothing but joy to watch his face soften into an adoring smile.

Noticing your presence, she stuck out her tongue at him in a clear display of defiance and ran to you.

Her cheek was soon pressed to your belly, short arms enveloping you into a tight hug, a single cutting of Moonbloom tucked behind her ear.

“Muña!” she beamed, rubbing stains of dirt into your dress. “Look at my garden! Grandmother says it’s the prettiest in King’s Landing.”

You ran your hands along her head, tidying a few strands in place. “Queen Alicent is absolutely correct.”

Aemond joined you, planting a tender kiss to your forehead, his now loose hair tickling your face. “Do we tell her?”

She pouted. “Tell me what?”

He crouched at her side, bearing the faintest smile, but enough to send your stomach into a lurch. “You wanted a sibling—”

But before Aemond could carry on, your daughter broke into a deafening shriek, causing birds in nearby trees to take flight.

Her mouth was left hung open in sheer excitement as Aemond placed her tiny hand on your discreet bump.

Lilac eyes widened and locked with his. “You planted a seed in mother!”

Her high-pitched remark turned a few heads and you could immediately spot panic settling on his handsome face.

“Sīr eglie daor,” he said, lowering his own voice. “Not so loud, little one.”

But your daughter cared not for manners in that moment and brought both hands to your belly, glaring at it in confusion.

“When do I get to meet my sibling?”

“Not for a few moons,” you told her.

She planted a soft kiss atop your bump. “Do I have to water it?”

You chuckled. “It won’t be necessary.”

Aemond placed his own hand next to hers. “All you have to do is aid me in taking care of your mother so she can take care of your sibling.”

Pressing another kiss, she glared at him. “That is all?”

He nodded. “Are you up for this very important, challenging, and difficult task?” he said dramatically while narrowing his eye.

She balled one fist and raised it high, her face twisting into a defiant smile. “Yes!”

☾

Aemond came walking in, footsteps as light as feathers as he paced across the poorly lit bedchamber, carrying his daughter.

You propped yourself on an elbow to better take in the adoring sight of the young prince holding his daughter against his chest, her face resting on his shoulder as her arms dangled with each step.

“Maybe we should have waited,” you whispered as he came to sit at the edge of the bed.

He shook his head. “Dawn is breaking.”

She was still fast asleep, but you had made a promise to her and promises are to be kept.

Aemond made sure of that.

He tried lowering her to lay next to you, but she immediately clamped her arms around his neck, whining softly.

Silently, he loosened her grip and brought her down next to your prominent belly.

She whined once again from the sudden lack of warmth he had provided, but soon shifted to curl into you.

“Wake up…” you said, dragging the back of your hand across her cheek.

Aemond pushed your nightgown up to expose your skin to her touch. “Byka Zaldrīzes…”

Little dragon.

That term of endearment was reserved for special moments, so he had once told you.

This was one of those.

Slowly but surely, you daughter stirred from her sleep, rubbing both hands across her fluttering eyelids.

With a jaw-popping yawn she stretched herself into your belly and, through sleepy eyes, she glared at Aemond in confusion.

“The babe is kicking,” he said.

The effect of those words was immediate and she promptly placed both hands on your belly.

She had made you promise you would let her know when you felt the first kicks, but nothing could have prepared you for how endearing it was to witness your daughter glaring expectantly, dragging her tiny palms across the stretched skin.

The babe kicked harshly inside you and you saw her eyes widen. “I felt it!”

Aemond’s eye was on yours and the glare he offered you made your heart swell with adoration.

If someone had told you that a few years ago Aemond would have traded early morning sword practice for time with his family, you’d ask them not to be absurd.

He placed a large hand on her back, rubbing her gently as she dove into a monologue with her sibling.

“You are very impatient,” she whispered as if she hand suddenly entered a world that was only theirs. “Must be dark in there… but you’ll come out soon and I’ll even let you tend to my flowers.”

Aemond chuckled. “Even your precious moonbloom pots?”

She paused in contemplation.

“… yes,” she ended up saying. “But only after making sure they’d be left intact,” she concluded with a determined smile.

“No harm would come to your flowers, sweetling,” he said, placing his other hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing your skin absentmindedly. “Besides, Uncle Daeron would have more shipped from Oldtown if something were to happen.”

The babe rammed into you once again, startling your daughter. “Was I also like this?”

“Very much so,” he said. “You were bent on not letting your mother rest properly… and, by extension, me.”

Her face lightened up. “I will ask grandmother if you were the same way, kepa.”

A smile curled his lips and lit a fire in you.

☾

Your second labour went by much faster than your first one and, by the time you felt the babe’s pushing down, no guards or handmaids were able to contain your daughter from sneaking inside the busy chamber.

Aemond was at your side every step of the way and made no further effort at keeping the young Targaryen at bay.

Wide-eyed and in complete silence, she strode forward to stand by your side, gripping two flower crowns in her hand.

“Push, my lady,” the maester urged. “Push, push!”

You were fortunate to have your husband sitting behind you, holding you in place and silently being the source of strength you required to push through the final moments.

Through gritted teeth, you mustered the last remnants of vigour within you and tried your best to heed the maester’s words.

Sweat rolled down your face and with a final scream, you felt the pain down below ease and the pressure vanish.

“A boy!” the old man said as he wrapped the babe with cloths

You slumped into Aemond’s chest, breathing heavily as tears rushed from your eyes.

An angry cry tore through the room as the young dragon announced himself to the world around him.

“Do you wish for me to take her outside for a while, my prince?” one servant asked, gazing at your daughter.

“Leave her be,” you heard Aemond snarl as she looped one arm around yours, holding on tightly.

She bared her teeth dramatically, frowning deeply at the failed attempt to have her taken away from your side.

As soon as they managed to cut the cord, another handmaid brought the babe to your arms, turf of silver hair sticking to his tiny head.

Relief washed over you as you embraced your son near your flustered chest.

Thorough your hazy state of mind, you didn’t even notice your daughter was holding out one moonbloom flower crown to you.

She seemed hesitant… even tense.

“Thank you, my love…” you breathed out, allowing her to place it on your head. “Thank you…”

“Can I…”

Your eyes shot to her lilac ones as she pouted, holding yet another flower crown, but a much smaller one this time.

“Made it with kepa…”

Aemond planted a long kiss to the top of your head before taking the crying babe into his arms and lowering him just enough for her to peak through with a gasp.

“Ooooh…”

Surprisingly, the babe’s cries came to a sudden halt when she placed the crown on top of the cloth wrapped around him.

One handmaiden placed a damp rag to your forehead and you sighed as your daughter carefully ran teo fingers along his face.

“Do you think he’ll like me?”

Aemond pulled her close to him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “He already does.”

Innocence

Summary: A debt is owed and payment is due, but it will be on Aemond’s terms.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Friends to lovers. Inexperienced reader. Virgin reader. Mentions of virginity loss. Semi-public. Fingering.

A/N: Can be read as part 2 of Inexperience, but also as a stand-alone. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.8k

“I don’t wish to be here.”

“Well, you must.”

“Can I leave?”

Your father’s eyes landed on you in a silent warning.

King Viserys and his feasts. They would bore you to death and, more recently, frighten you as your father was in search of a suitor for you.

Your scowl soon vanished once you spotted Aemond standing close by, hands behind his back and as observant as ever.

It didn’t take look before his eye met yours.

He had much more self-control than you as you were not able to hold back a faint smile.

A smile that your father noticed right away. “Do not spend the entire evening next to the prince.”

“Why not?”

“He scares off potential suitors.”

Good.

You feigned ignorance. “Why is that?”

He was in no mood to entertain your antics as your walked past countless rows of people in the courtyard.

“I do not wish for rumours to spread,” he whispered. “You are be presentable and approachable tonight.”

His remark left a sour taste in your mouth. “May I go and greet prince Aemond, then? It would be rude of me not to, father.”

The older man tensed up, but nodded.

You crossed the courtyard in haste, blood already boiling in your veins, and as soon as you reached Aemond he was able to realise something was off.

“What’s the matter?”

You said nothing.

“Your father.”

It wasn’t a question.

Decided not to spend the rest of your time with Aemond looking and acting miserable, you bowed your head ever so lightly.

He returned the gesture, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Let us get away from here. Please,” you added that last word in your best effort to let him know how desperate you were.

Aemond glanced around. “I think I know a place.”

You grinned widely, the thrill of defying your father rushing through your entire body.

Aemond’s feet broke into a rapid stride in front of you, but close enough not to lose you in the crowds that swarmed around you.

As you walked up the familar steps that led to a cupboard, your heart started beating faster.

“I haven’t been here in so long.”

Aemond chuckled and offered you his hand, seeing that you were already far away from prying eyes.

He pushed the wooden door open effortlessly, pulling you inside before slamming it shut once again.

Your stomach rolled in excitement as you remembered the many times you two had found refuge in this cupboard, hiding away from the angry servants that had just been robbed of delicious food.

Before you could adjust your eyes to the sudden darkness, you felt Aemond pressing your back up against the wooden panels.

“Sagon lyka.”

Be quiet.

The two words in High Valyrian that you had picked up every sinxe you were a child as the two of you sneaked around the long halls of the Red Keep.

You could hear footsteps outside with voices drawing near.

Aemond placed one finger to his lips, silencing your giggles.

Suddenly, it felt too intimate.

But then again, these last few days with Aemond had become a blur.

You craved him more than ever before, wishing you could touch him once again. Wishing you could have all of his undivided attention on you.

“You owe a debt, Aemond Targaryen,” you said in a whisper.

His eye narrowed. “Do I, now?”

“Yes,” you nodded, gazing at his beautiful lips. “I wish to know how you’d pleasure me.”

Silence.

Had you gone too far?

Had you assumed he’d be willing to touch you the same way you had touched him a few nights ago?

He clicked his tongue after a while, eye dropping to your own lips. “Are you demanding payment?”

“Yes.”

Loud voices filled your ears and you bit your lip, offering him the most innocent stare you could muster.

“I last saw her with Prince Aemond,” a man said. “They seem rather close.”

There was no malice or implication in his voice and, from the way Queen Alicent chuckled, you could tell she shared the sentiment.

“They grew up together,” she said lovingly. “A complete nightmare to the kitchen servants.”

Your father chuckled. “Ah, yes. They would disappear for hours on end, carrying pastries and food.”

And yet he was too blind to see who it was you truly craved and yearned for.

Aemond’s eye met yours and you held back a grin as his hands traveled up your arms.

The voices faded momentarily as your heart thumping louder once you realised his intentions.

Before you could fully brace yourself, Aemond bent his head and pressed his lips against yours.

Warmth filled your stomach and you were certain your heart had skipped several beats.

Unsure of what to do with your hands, you settled with wrapping one arm around his neck, deepening the tender kiss while grasping the handle of his dagger for added support, the fear of tumbling down from the sudden intimacy overwhelming your senses.

The two of you had once shared stolen food from the Red Keep’s kitchen and now shared kisses.

Aemond parted his lips first and you followed suit, welcoming his guidance. The first moan came from you as you felt his tongue on yours.

He brought both hands to frame your face, thumbs gently rubbing across your cheeks.

You could no longer make out to whom each voice belonged.

“… in need of a suitor.”

Aemond pressed your back further into the wooden panel.

Someone laughed. “She would do well with my son.”

You moaned into his kiss as one of his hands gripped your thigh through your dresse, lifting your leg to rest around his waist.

“A proper young lady, no doubts.”

Aemond snickered at such remark, parting his lips from yours.

You felt your lips swollen and moist, but above all that, you felt the throbbing between your legs. Your dress had slid back, exposing your skin to his eager touch.

“Such a proper lady, aren’t you?” he teased in a velvety voice.

A sudden gasp tore through your throat as one hand slipped inside your undergarments.

You had never had a man touch you like this before. Inexperience rendered you immobile and you had to bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a moan once his fingers delved in between your folds.

“Oh…”

Aemond pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips as he dragged the pads along your swollen clit.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered.

“Hear what?”

Your question was answered by the wet sounds erupting from the way he rubbed his fingers along your folds and entrance.

“So eager…” he praised. “Untouched and unbroken.”

Aemond would use his words like no other. His eloquence was praised across the realm and you were able to witness it firsthand.

He slipped one finger inside you without a warning.

“Do you ever touch yourself?”

The arm around his neck tightened and your hips rolled into his touch, one finger buried knuckle-deep inside you.

“Answer me.”

You pressed your face against his chest. “Yes…”

He started moving the finger out and back in again, the heel of his hand digging into your clit.

“Who do you think of when you do it?”

You squeezed around his finger. Hard.

“Me?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

Aemond groaned and you reckoned you might combust from that glorious sound alone.

“Can you take another one?”

You… didn’t know…

Pleasuring yourself was not something you’d often indulge in. You had tried one finger before, imagining it to be Aemond’s, but never quite living up to the expectation as his were much longer.

He probed the entrance with a second finger, teasing your tightness.

“I would not break your maidenhead,” he promised, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and caressing your thigh with his other hand. “Your future husband would not approve of it.”

He was taunting you… deep down, you knew he was aware of the hold he had on you.

“Aemond…” you moaned deliberately, hoping your voice would be incentive enough.

“Say it again.”

This time, you lifted your head from his chest to gaze at him, pleading eyes making his lips part.

“Aemond… please…”

A second finger stretched through your barrier, to join the other already inside. You were soaked enough to accompany him without the risk of going too far, yet you felt stuffed like never before.

Aeomond Targaryen’s uncovered eye never left yours as he struggled to go as deep as possible.

“You’re so tight… too tight…” he said, his breath already coming out erratically. “Your husband will be so fortunate.”

A sudden jab of irritation amidst the pleasure made you frown at him.

You wished he’d take you as his wife.

But he was taken.

And soon you would be, too.

He was promised to marry a Baratheon girl and you already despised her.

She would never understand Aemond like you did.

Your head dropped to his chest once more, but this time to conceal the tears that pooled in the corner of your eyes from both pain and pleasure.

“Take me…” you pleaded, even though you knew he was too honourable to succumb to such invitation.

He would never take you.

As expected, he did not reply at first, focusing on fucking you with his fingers.

Only when you repeated those words did he speak, “Do not say such things.”

“I would let you take me,” you reinforced your position, bringing your hips to a slow roll down his fingers. “You know me like no other.”

Aemond grunted, the hand holding your leg up digging into you. “You would offer me your maidenhead?”

Why was he surprised? You would do that and much more.

“Yes…” you said as seductively as your inexperience allowed you. “I would take your cock…”

This time, Aemond shoved you into the wooden wall and you nearly hit your head as you lifted your chin to stare at him.

He looked tense.

The sort of tension one shows when trying to restrain themselves. You were familiar with it. Yours stemmed from your feeling for Aemond.

Where did his come from, then?

“My cock?”

You nodded, drawing your lower lip out in a pout.

Aemond clenched his jaw.

“It would not fit…” you gasped in between moans as your walls fluttered around him.

He let out a shaky breath. “It would.”

You could tell your words had stroked his male ego effectively from the way he curled his fingers deep inside you, squelching sounds filling your ears.

“It would hurt.”

Aemond brought his face to your shoulder, letting out a groan. “It would.”

And yet you’d still offer yourself freely to him, for the line between pain and pleasure would be worth crossing if it meant you could be bound to him so intimately.

Your grasp on the handle of his dagger tightened as despair took over you.

He was proving himself to be an exceptional lover, but you still needed more and you needed him to understand it.

“Another one… Aemond…. please…” you nearly cried out in frustration, bucking into his hand. “Please…”

Aemond’s free hand came to grip your jaw, sealing your lips with his, swallowing your pleas. You had to lift your leg higher to maintain the current position and prevent him from slipping away.

By the time you managed to break the kiss, you felt the pad of a third finger circling your entrance.

He craved it.

You could feel it.

“Please…” you said, once again rolling your hils to his as his hand dropped to support your leg.

It was evident that he was struggling with himself. For the briefest moment Aemond stood still, pausing his ministrations. You tried your best to urge him on by clenching hard around the two digits, but his self-control was commendable.

“I would not take you like this,” he finally whispered, thumb pressed to your clit drawing a need moan from you. “Not with my fingers…”

Your hand dropped from his dagger to his clothed cock and when you pressed your palm against it, the most enticing and lust-filled growl made its way past his lips.

“Your father ought to know how much of a danger your are,” he whispered, breathing moans into your ear. “That you’re willing to give yourself to me.”

Truth be told, you could not bring yourself to care about whatever thoughts your father had of you should he find out prince Aemond Targaryen had his fingers buried deep within you and was toying with the prospect of deflowering you.

Just as you were about to undo his pants, the voices outside the cupboard were distinguishable once more, momentarily breaking the immersion.

“I have not see your daughter in a long while,” the lord said to your father. “My son would court her if he could only find her.”

“I am certain she would welcome his advances, my lord,” your father answered, but you could hear a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

And so could he.

“It is odd that she would vanish, considering she is in need of a suitor,” the old man said disdainfully. “Is she still intact?”

Your eyes widened slightly, meeting Aemond’s.

The young prince did not seem affected in the slightest.

In fact, the way his lips curled into a cunning smile told you he was, at the very least, thoroughly enjoying the current predicament.

He dragged both fingers out, slamming them back in with no warning.

“It seems he’s unaware that such matter is irrelevant.”

Your face was twisted in a mix of pleasure and confusion.

Aemond caught on to that and brought his lips to your ear. “His son’s cock would not be able tear your maidenhead,” Aemond mocked viciously. “But mine would,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust.

Gods…

Your eyes fluttered shut at the promise of having the last shred of innocence being taken from you at his hands.

Before you knew it, you had allowed your moans to reach a higher pitch, earning the attention of those outside.

“What was that sound?” your father’s voice was heard.

Aemond rapidly clasped his hand over your mouth, effectively silencing your bliss.

“Must be cats. Mating season, I reckon,” another man said dismissively.

It wasn’t far for the truth at all.

If only Aemond would give into your pleas and finally take you.

He snapped you out of your thoughts by pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I apologise, but I need your release now.”

Your walls immediately clenched and you groaned into the palm of his hand as more wetness spilled from you once he sped up.

Apologising for wanting your release ranked up high with the likes of apologising for crowning someone a king, or apologising for finally bringing to life the countless dreams of pleasure you had had over the years.

You were too close already. Beads of sweat dripped down your face as the effort to keep quiet began to take a toll on you.

The stimulation that came from both his fingers and heel of his hand was enough to have your legs quiver as your release build up with each thrust.

He dropped his hand from your mouth to grab his dagger.

Your eye widened as he brought it to your lips. “Bite on this. I need my hand free.”

“Why?” you asked before parting your lips and holding the handle with your teeth.

Aemond didn’t reply.

He didn’t have to.

The answer came in a tidal wave of pleasure that washed over you as he fucked you relentlessly, forcing your teeth to sink into the leather that was wrapped around the blade, strangling your cries.

Your mind went blank as your eyes snapped wide-open, the contractions from your released squeezing him rhythmically and uncontrollably.

Aemond hushed you with a kiss to your temple, waiting for you to finish riding out your high. “Good… good…”

Tears streamed down your face from the sudden release of pressure and you knew you’d collapse had it not been for the iron grip he had on your leg, holding you in place.

“Stop clenching…” he pressed another kiss. “Let go of my fingers…”

Your walls were wrapped so tightly around him, it took a while from the tension to vanish, allowing him to properly slide out of you.

Before your hazy eyes he brought his soaked fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them and sucking gently.

You were about to speak when he silenced you with a kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on him.

He broke the kiss as you both gasped for air. “Now you owe me one.”

Of Flowers & Dragons

Summary: Your daughter wants a sibling and makes it everyone’s problem.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Dad Aemond. “Where do babies come from?” shenanigans.

Word count: 1k

“I want a sibling!”

The high-pitched voice echoed across the room, quickly followed by a shriek that reverberated through your head like a dagger, jolting you awake at once.

You peered down through hazy eyes at your daughter of six who was stomping angrily across the carpeted floor, strands of silver hair shooting from her head in all sorts of weird and messy angles.

“I apologise, my lady,” the young servant breathed out, rushing behind the young child. “She would not heed my words.”

“It’s quite alright,” you said with a nod. “You may leave.”

She was a dragon through and through: hot tempered and demanding.

It had taken her father long years to keep that explosiveness at bay and you reckoned you would still encounter many of these outbursts before she’d finally settle.

She halted by the feet of your bed, mustering the most menacing expression, violet eyes alternating between you and her sleeping father.

“Jaelan ziry sir, kepa!”

Even in your broken High Valyrian you could make out a demand aimed at her father.

She didn’t just want a sibling. She wanted it now.

The bedsheets shifting beside you alerted you that Aemond Targaryen was finally awake.

“Do not scream,” you scolded before a yawn slipped past your lips. “Come here.”

Your daughter didn’t need to be told twice as she promptly climbed up the bed and crawled in between the two of you before plopping herself down with a huff.

Aemond rolled to his side with the groan of someone who had just been robbed of the peace and quiet that usually came with early mornings.

“Could this not have waited, tala?” he said.

“Daor,” she shook her head, sticking out her bottom lip in a defiant pout, crossing both arms. “I want a sibling now.”

Aemond turned his head to face her, his sapphire eye uncovered. “It would have to wait.”

She brought both hands to his long hair and twisted a few strands into unruly braids, not able to conceal her frustration.

“A day?”

You nearly chuckled at her remark. “A day? It would take many moons, my love.”

“But kepa said I came from Old Valyria… on dragonback…” she whispered, turning her eyes to meet yours. “Dragons are fast… maybe two days?” she beamed, hope coating her sweet voice.

You sighed heavily. “Aemond…”

“She caught me off guard, lady wife,” he said truthfully while gazing at his daughter. “What was I to say?”

“Now you have the opportunity to resolve this,” you smiled teasingly as his eye widened.

“What is it?” she spoke up before Aemond could. “When do I get a new sibling, kepa?”

Aemond was a master at concealing his emotions, but even in that moment, his composure faltered, as he realised his young and stubborn daughter would not back down.

Heaving a deep sigh, he detached her tiny hands from his hair and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him in a heartwarming display of affection.

“Remember those flowers you adore so much, byka zaldrīzes?” he lowered his voice as he spoke into her hear. “The one that uncle Daeron brought from Oldtown?”

Your heart fluttered in delight. Aemond calling her little dragon would never not make you emotional. Witnessing the young prince embracing the bond with his daughter was a privilege few could claim.

Her lilac eyes narrowed as she pondered for a moment. “Hmm. Yes! Moonbloom,” she nodded with a proud smile.

“Moonbloom, yes,” Aemond said, bringing one finger to brush away strands of silver hair that covered her face. “He brought a few seeds that we later placed in several vases.”

She nodded eagerly, eyes never tearing away from him.

“And what happened to those seeds?”

She wiggled her legs in anticipation, visibly enjoying the enticing questions from her father that read as a game just between the two of them.

“We got a few tiny plants!” she beamed, giggling and jerking her body as Aemond tickled her.

“And then…”

She froze in place, gasping dramatically. “… then… we got flowers!”

Aemond chuckled. “Sȳrje. Very well,” he praised as he planted a soft kiss to her forehead. “That is how you came to be.”

Scrunching her nose, she narrowed her inquisitive eyes. “I came from a… vase of flowers?”

You were a mere spectator, enjoying how Aemond handled such delicate matter, not able to hold back the wide grin on your face.

“Daor. I planted a seed inside your mother,” he said as he brought his hand to your stomach. “Here.”

Your daughter turned her head, eyes landing where his hand lay. “How did I get there?”

Aemond cleared his throat, staring at you in a silent plea.

“You are handling this perfectly, lord husband,” you said, placing your fingers atop his with a smile.

“So mother is a vase of flowers?” she inquired, confusion washing over her face.

Aemond’s lips curled into a soft smile. “You could say so.”

Her eyes widened incredulously as she brought her own tiny hand to your belly in sheer fascination.

“I’m a flower?”

The endearing conclusion she had drawn, had your heart clench.

“Iksā iā rūklon,” Aemond said with a nod. “Se iā zaldrīzes.”

“Woah!” she gasped in uncontrolled excitement, shooting her eyes to yours. “I’m a flower and a dragon, muña!”

You gave her the warmest smile. “The most delicate flower and the fiercest dragon.”

She got on her knees, bouncing on the bed with newfound enthusiasm.

“When are you planting another flower in mother?” she grinned expectantly at Aemond who groaned and sank into his pillow.

Inexperience

Summary: You have often wondered how it feels to pleasure a man, so you take it up with Aemond.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Inexperienced reader. Friends to lovers (if you squint). Handjob. Masturbation.

Word count: 2k

“You’re doing it again.”

Aemond’s velvety voice snapped you from your intrusive thoughts state at once.

Inwardly scolding yourself, you shifted your attention back to the embroidery in your hands.

You weren’t being exceptionally subtle when it came to staring at him.

And Aemond’s observational skills were far too perfected for your own good.

“I apologise,” you said quietly.

Even from the corner of your eye you could see an intriguing smile on his lips as he lifted his eye from the book. “As you wish, my lady.”

You felt a rush of heat pool in your face. Even after years of growing up with Prince Aemond and tearing down any walls that were built from the unavoidable hierarchical imbalance, he would always know how to get under your skin.

The two of you would spend long hours in the fireplace room after supper, enjoying the calmness and silence. You’d be entertained with your embroideries while Aemond took his time diving into history and philosophy books.

A very intriguing young man he was.

In fact, he was just as intriguing as he was perceptive, which was why it didn’t surprise you that he had caught on to you occasionally glaring at him.

Not just him.

His body.

Quite frankly, the burning curiosity inside you begged you to just ask. It could be considered improper, but your mind kept wondering how.

How did he do it?

How did it feel like?

What was the worst that could happen should you ask these questions?

The matter of intimacy was all but known to both of you. He’d often invade your dreams with kisses and moans, but you didn’t dare reveal any of that to him. Sometimes, when about to doze off, you’d wonder whether it was reciprocal.

Not that it mattered. Your father would one day marry you off to some lord in some decaying castle never to cross paths with Aemond Targaryen ever again.

So you might as well ask and it was apparent that your body language betrayed your forced calm demeanour as it was enough to get his attention.

“Why are you so tense?”

You jolted in your seat, nearly jabbing the needle in your finger. “I am not tense at all,” you offered a smile.

“Lying is very unbecoming of you,” he said, flipping through a couple of pages. “Whatever is on your mind, you can share with me.”

You straightened in your seat, lowering your faze to the flowers you were carefully threading with your needle. Given the current circumstances, embroidery seemed far more inviting in comparison with having to deal with a suspicious Aemond.

“Take your time,” he said, not tearing his eye from the book and drumming his fingers on the padded armrest.

“I… it is nothing, Aemond.”

If you thought that was enough to shake him off, you were dead wrong. Instead, Aemond heaved a deep sigh and closed the book on his lap, staring intensely at you.

You tried your best to ignore his penetrating glare, but all to no avail.

“Do you take me for a fool?” he asked, but there no hint of annoyance in his voice.

If anything, he seemed deeply amused.

“What do you—”

Aemond interrupted you at once. “I’ve noticed the way you’ve been staring at me as of late.”

You looked at him wide-eyed. “Staring?”

“Subtlety isn’t your strongest suit.”

His eye was studying your every move and you had to be the inside of your cheek in frustration. More at yourself than at him, if you were being honest. You knew he wasn’t who was easily fooled, but you had also not expected that all the glaring had become that noticeable.

“It is nothing,” you said, feeling droplets of sweat coating the pads of your fingers, staining the coloured thread.

“You keep staring at my hands. Why?”

He had beautiful hands, indeed.

“For no reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I will not have you riding Vhagar with me again.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He clicked his tongue. “Do not try me.”

Your heart clenched as your felt trapped. “It’s nothing much,” you lowered your voice and glanced around to make sure no unwanted visitors were present. I was just wondering how it feels when you... uh... when you... do it.”

Aemond’s eyebrow arched. “Do... what?”

You weren’t sure if he was genuinely unaware of the implication, or if he was just pretending in order to get you riled up. However, were willing to bet on the latter.

“Hmm... you know...” you said, feeling your face burn hot from embarrassment. “How does it feel when you… hmm… pleasure yourself,” you finally managed to get the words out but quickly added, “Just curious… because… hmmm… just curious and—”

You cut yourself off, realising you were now rambling.

Tense moments ticked by and you noticed Aemond Targaryen was visibly amused. “Is this your subtle way of asking me to touch myself in front of you?”

Panic immediately hit you hard. “Of course not! Why would I want to see that? How — how is that—what? — I was merely wondering.”

He placed the heavy book on the table by his side, as his lips curled into a smile. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

You shot him a death glare. “If you don’t want to tell me just say that.”

“I do not indulge in such depravities.”

“Lies,” you threw at him in disbelief. “I do not believe you.”

“Lies? Well, it does take one to know one, I reckon.”

You bit the inside of your cheek once at the remark regarding your earlier failed attempt at deception.

“There is no need to get tense,” Aemond said, standing up to take a seat in the nearby velvet-padded settee.

“I’m really not.”

“We all have urges, I suppose,” he then shrugged, staring at his own hands. “I have never done this with someone else. It could be… interesting.”

“You could simply tell me how it feels or how you do it,” you said, mouth turning dry. “Besides, we would not be doing anything here.”

“Why tell you when I can show you?”

He could not be serious…

“The doors are closed,” he said, extending one hand to you. “No one comes here this late at nigh. Come here.”

Your feet brought you to him before you could even process what was happening. “I was having a serious conversation and you’re now talking about your… your…” you pointed at his crotch as you say by his side.

This time he arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Weren’t you the one who wanted to know how it feels like?”

Point taken. “Yes, but—”

“So what do you want me to talk about?” Aemond asked, lips turning into a devious grin.

“You are being vulgar.”

“You started this conversation, my lady,” he pointed out. “You’re the one who’s being vulgar.”

There was no way around it. You were definitely making things worse for yourself. This had started off innocently enough, but he was easily bending the conversation to his will.

You decided to ignore his remark and had your eyes on the lit fireplace in front of you, determined to enjoy the way the flames danced around and burned through the wood.

But Aemond was relentless.

“I can show you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You awaited for him to quickly take that back as a joke, but that moment never came.

He was dead serious.

“No, thank you,” you breathed, still not daring to look at him.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind taking a peak, but you couldn’t just admit to that. What if it made things awkward between you? What if you had crossed a line you weren’t sure you could go back from?

You kept your eyes firmly locked on cackling fire, but you could feel him shift beside you. It was probably a bad idea to dart your eyes to the side to watch as his legs lazily sprawled out from the settee, with and one hand resting on his belt.

You jolted when you saw him extend his hand to you. “You may touch it.”

This was definitely not what you had in mind. “Uh...”

He chuckled briefly. “It is my hand, not my cock.”

Your chin nearly dropped at his crass words and you frowned. “It’s simply genuine curiosity.”

He chuckled. “And I’m here willing to satisfy that curiosity. We have shared a friendship for many years,” he said, voiced coated in tones of warm honey. “If you are to learn about such things, I’d rather be the one enlightening you.”

It was such an unexpected and truthful statement, you felt your heart soar.

But as satisfying as it was to hear such words from him, you still had a shred of dignity left. “What if someone comes in?” you hissed in a low voice, eyes roaming across the room.

“We can be discreet,” he said. “Have you forgotten the many times we hid under beds after raiding the kitchen? No one would ever find us and those apples tasted ten times better.”

The memories of your shared youth tugged gently at your heartstrings.

“But we’re not hiding.”

Aemond brought a finger to trace the back of your hand. “We don’t have to. Not anymore.”

You swallowed hard hand watched as he offered you his hand at first. Without failt, your heartbeat sped up instantly, but you did your best to ignore it as you inspected his hand. His palm was turned upwards, giving you access to his warm skin.

“Can I...?”

Aemond had his head on the backrest, half-hooded eye still on you. “Yes.”

Holding the back of his hand in yours, you let your index finger slowly drag across it.

You could have sworn you heard the faintest sound come from him.

His skin felt really warm to the touch, nearly

“Is this alright?” you asked, halting briefly and studying his face.

“Carry on.”

But then something else in your field of vision caught your attention.

The hand he had resting on his belt drew you to look a bit further down and—

“Aemond?” your sudden gasp had him staring at you. “How are you...”

He bent his neck to stare down at the bulge in his pants. “I have no control over it.”

You wanted to be outraged, but this made you feel empowered and did wonders to your ego. You wanted to let go of his hand and be done with... whatever this was.

But you didn’t dare break contact with him.

If anything, the grip on his hand only intensified.

“Keep going… I can get harder than this.”

Gods. His hoarse voice immediately caused your thumb to resume the soft strokes along the palm of his hand.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you were no longer bothered in concealing how much your body craved more of him.

And just like Aemond had promised, you were able to see his cock growing harder and even twitching slightly each time you applied a certain amount of pressure on his skin.

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants.

You wanted more.

No.

You needed more.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual as he had his fingers on the buckle of his belt, tugging on it. The sight had your mouth watering. The not so subtle bulge was clearly making him uncomfortable in a way and in eye you detected undeniable lust.

You couldn’t help but shift closer to him, and the motion triggered him into undoing his belt. Once he got it out of the way, he unbuttoned his pants.

He heaved a deep sigh of relief at sudden relief of tension.

“Maybe we should stop?”

“Do you want to?” he asked, gently fiddling with the waistband of his pants.

No. “It’s just... what if someone—”

“You keep sabotaging yourself,” he groaned in exasperation.

“But... if someone comes in...”

He growled. “I will behead them.”

Your eyes widened in sudden horror.

“I am not being serious,” he finally added, offering you a grin. “Just enjoy this.”

In one switft motion, he pulled the fabric down, freeing his hard cock.

“Oh...”

You had never seen one before. It looked intimidating and you tried to do something other than just glare, but you couldn’t quite believe in what was happening just yet.

“Such a pretty mouth...” he observed as his eye dropped to your lips and wrapping his fingers around himself.

Your clit was pulsing as your walls clenched and pushed out more and more wetness to coat your folds.

Aemond started pumping his cock in a lazy rhythm, eye fully locked with yours. You saw a few beads of a clear liquid pooling around the tip.

“Keep touching me…”

“I... I...” you sounded like a fish out of water.

He tightened the grip on his cock, forcing more of the liquid to come out. That’s when it started sliding down and onto his knuckles.

“Keep going…”

It was clear he was getting impatient and the strain in his voice hit your brain, causing you to straighten before bringing the palm of his hand to your lips.

You made sure he kept his eye on you when you started pressing soft kisses to each finger.

“Good...” he praised and encouraged, bringing the palm of his other hand to rub on the tip of his cock.

He had his wetness smeared across his skin and you kept on kissing him until he dragged his hand down to pump his cock once again.

“Let me feel you,” he panted, squeezing himself tighter. “I want to feel you.”

You presse one last kiss to the palm of his hand. “What?”

It was his turn to grip your hand. “Let me fuck your hand.”

Oh… Gods…

You felt a load of wetness leak from you it’d be a miracle if you managed to somehow finish this without having your own dress completely soaked.

He guided you down to his crotch, letting go of his cock only to have your own hand wrapping around him, drawing a beautiful hiss from him.

The sudden urge to kiss him took over your senses, and just as the thought flooded your mind your body promptly acted in it, and you crashed your lips onto his.

He was definitely caught by surprised, but had no problem reciprocating the same hunger and lust you felt for him by having his tongue against yours.

You allowed him to guide your hand up and down his cock with his own, feeling his grip increase. He set up a very slow rhythm as if making the most out of this moment.

“Tighter...” he moaned in between a sloppy kiss.

Your fingers promptly squeezed around him. He had been leaking so much that it didn’t take long before your own hand was drenched in his wetness.

It was hard to focus on his cock when he was completely robbing you of air, refusing to break the kiss.

When he finally let go of your lips, you saw him staring down at his cock fucking your hand. You could feel his breath come out in pants when he started lifting his hips to set a new tempo.

“Is… is this how you do it?” you said innocently.

Aemond’s eye closed shut and that was the best reply he could have given you.

You absentmindedly brought your free hand to roam under your dress and to your undergarments. Your wetness was sipping through the fabric, your pussy clenching at the thought of one day having him take your maidenhead.

You didn’t even notice that he had undone his coat and lifted his shirt, exposing his abdomen as it flexed with each snap of his hips, a sheer coat of sweat forming as he sped up.

“Are you tighter than this?” he groaned.

How could someone be this… alluring?

He kissed you again, his hand gripping yours tighter once again.

But you needed more of him.

You pushed him away for a moment so you could swing one leg over his waist, effectively sitting on his crotch. Lifting your dress, you revealed your soaked undergarments. Aemond was shamelessly glaring at the stain that was spreading across the fabric.

“Be quiet,” you told him, squeezing his cock as a warning.

“I said nothing,” he said with a knowing smile.

You needed the friction on your clit and this new position would grant you that. With each thrust from him, your clit was being pressed gently, and you couldn’t help the deep moan that slipled through your mouth.

Aemond finally let go of his grip in you and brought both hands to frame your face, once again draining your lungs from air as he pulled you into a scorching kiss.

You never thought you’d be this close to release, but that was the least of your concerns. You wanted to watch that beautiful man unravel before your eyes.

He kept on thrusting into your hand, and when he pulled away you knew he was close. You took some time to admire how his beautiful face twisted in pleasure, mouth parted into laboured gasps.

“Faster...” he urged you and you were more to glad to oblige.

You were now familiar with what made him groan deeper, gasp louder, and roll his hips higher. It took him only a few more moments before his thrusts started faltering, and he had to bite the back of his hand to keep himself from groaning out loud as hot spurts of cum started shooting against your undergarments. You shuddered as the head of his cock pressed into your clit and his warm released sipped into the fabric.

You tumbled forward to rest your head against his shoulder, not even concerned about the mess.

“That was…” he let out, chest heaving rapidly.

“Can we do this again?”

You felt his chest rumble into yours. “Give me some time to recover… you just emptied me…”

<3

2x13 || 3x10 || 3x13

Weakness

Summary: Aemond can’t afford to care about you. Life has long taught him that he’s underserving of such feelings. It’s safer this way. Right?

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Mentions of blood and neglect/abuse. Aemond’s POV.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to explore Aemond’s mind for a while now. From his POV. This feels very personal and even though it’s somewhat different from what I usually write, I hope you can still connect to Aemond somehow and that this feels true to his character.

Word count: 1k

Aemond knew the pits of rejection far too well. It had become second nature to him. It consumed him whole and it had morphed into something way darker as he grew older.

He was certain that if there was driving force behind his thirst for revenge then that the fear of abandonment was the root of it all.

Feelings were doorways to suffering. However, Aemond had learnt long ago that some doors are better left shut. Allowing himself to care for someone was a weakness he simply could not afford.

It was a nuisance.

A dangerous one.

Slowly, he lifted one hand and brought the pads of his fingers to trace the rough edges of the scar that ran across his face.

A painful reminder.

No. Just a reminder.

Pain had forsaken his thoughts. He had made sure it stayed that way.

His body was now a reminder of what happens when one allows feelings to overcome reason.

He was a vessel of hatred and revenge, fully committed to having thise who had wronged him pay for it.

Even his beloved mother had forsaken the idea of changing his mind, devoting herself to praying for him in the hopes that some invisible force might rein him in.

He had several cuts across his face from the practice he shared with Criston Cole earlier that day. Aemond made him swear he would not hold back and he complied, unleashing all the swordsmanship knowledge he possessed.

Flesh heals and these were evident wounds that he was still not as skilled as he had hoped.

In truth, he could always ask you to aid him, but the mere thought of having you so close made his stomach turn.

No matter how strong someone was. How well trained they were. How disciplined their mind was. There came a time when something — or rather someone — slippped through the cracks and managed to become a weakness.

Much like the sun insisted on shining through the curtains of his bedchamber. Or much like the drops of blood that eventually found their way down his face and were as tears.

You were a weakness he couldn’t afford.

Deep down, in the depths of his heart, Aemond feared that he was not enough.

That he was broken beyond repair and no one wanted to be left with having to fix both his body and his mind. He utterly feared that if you turned him down it would awaken something darker inside him. That he would feel as small and insignificant as he did when he was younger.

When they all laughed.

When he lost his eye.

When his father demanded no justice for his loss and was willing to have him questioned for the depravities of others.

Aemond Targaryen was ten years of age when he realised he was but an afterthought on his father’s mind. Someone who was supposed to love and care for him unconditionally, saw him as an insignificance.

He could feel another bloody droplet streaming down his face, prickling the skin along the way.

Unconsciously, he brushed it clean before examining the red stain tainting the pad of his thumb.

It was the closest thing he had to tears these days.

He no longer cried. There were days the flames of hatred raged deeply within him, but it was never enough to bring him to tears as before.

Aemond had far better control of his mind now that he was older and wiser.

Truth be told, he didn’t mind that at all.

And he’d rather have it this way.

Suddenly, there was a faint knock on the the door.

It was you.

“Aemond… can I come in?”

He wanted to say no. He needed to say no.

His body had become so numb to physical pain that he only realised he was gripping his knees too tightly when he saw his knuckles turn white.

Another knock. “Aemond…”

“Leave,” he firmly said.

“Do not push me away.”

He had to.

“Please,” your voice was but a whisper, but it was enough to cause his heart rate to quicken. “Your... wounds… I can help.”

He scoffed. You really had no idea that his fixing was beyond skin-deep. That was why he couldn’t stand being near you anymore. You triggered so many feelings within him.

Feelings were weaknesses.

You were a weakness.

He couldn’t afford having one.

He had promised himself that he would be a good son to his mother, a good brother to his sister Helaena and brother Daeron, and that he would tolerate Aegon. But that was as far as his courtesy would extend.

Aemond cared not for others.

Or so he tried to convince himself.

You.

He cursed you for haunting his thoughts. He cursed you for being you and for being so... 

“I do not need your help. Leave.”

His words betrayed his heart, but he was used to it.

The doorknob rattled briefly. “I’m not scared of you.”

You should be. He could easily burn you to the ground if you kept on pushing him.

With one swift motion, the door swung open.

There you were.

The newfound source of his turmoil, standing quietly and determined to defy him.

Aemond briefly considered demanding you to leave at once, displaying the unpleasant side him that he had honed over the years.

However, surely enough, the moment you started pacing towards him and knelt at his feet with that loving face of yours resting on his thighs, he knew he had no will left in him to push you away.

“Good morning, dragon,” you taunted him in a low voice, offering him the sweetest smile.

A smile he most certainly did not deserve.

“Hmm,” he mumbled as he allowed his hand reach your cheek.

You immediately closed your eyes, welcoming his touch.

“Let me help you,” you said after a moment, brushing your lips across the palm of his hand. “Please…”

Help? Did you even know what that proposition entailed?

Before he could measure his words, Aemond spoke, “Help with what?”

You opened your eyes and kept them locked with his.

“Fixing you.”

Touch

Summary: You love Aemond’s hands.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Fluff.

A/N: Just…. bear with me please… he has such pretty hands and fingers… it just makes you wonder.

Word count: 1.2k

Aemond would seldom indulge in your requests, especially when it came to handling weapons.

But on the rare occasion you happened to catch him slightly off guard, you definitely seized the chance to ask him to demonstrate how he handled his dagger.

Truth be told, you adored watching his hand and fingers move languidly with the blade. Any excuse to witness how masterful he was at it would do.

You admired as his fingers slowly shifted between flexing and relaxing, forcing the dagger to twirl at his will. It was clearly an extension of his own body that only years of practice could offer.

Aemond could carefully manoeuvre it to either stay in control on the palm of his hand like this like a subtle fire, or he could have columns of it shoot from him to cause mass destruction.

Steady heatwaves of delight hit you as you got closer to him, appreciating his display of physical prowess.

“Careful. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt,” Aemond said, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips.

He could be such a tease with so little effort. It was utterly infuriating.

You wish you could touch him right there and then and feel his muscles flexing and tensing with each sway of the dagger.

Suddenly, Aemond halted his movements and extended his hand to you, flipping the dagger so you could safely grab it.

“Go ahead.”

Seeing that you were hesitating, he laughed. “Trust me.”

And you did.

He knew you did.

“I’ll show you how.”

He took a step closer to you, enough to feel his chest bump your back. "Focus," he said, warm breath dusting over your ear and neck and close enough to send shivers down your spine. One hand on your hip, exerting a light pressure. "You have to become one with the blade.”

Your eyes wandered to his slender fingers as they moved across your wrist until they wrapped around it.

“Keep it limp,” he whispered. “Limp, yet flexible.”

Heart thudding faster and breath caught in your throat, you nodded, transfixed by slow and circular motion in which he moved your wrist, thumb lightly pressed on your pulse.

“You are nervous.”

It wasn’t a question.

“What if I cut myself?” you blurted out, seeing the sharp silver blade cut the air around it slowly yet sharply.

“You won’t.”

It left no room for doubt.

He wrapped his arm around your torso, so he’d have you pressed against him, straightening your body into a proper stance.

Warm fingers guided your hand and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the way he so effortlessly molded into you.

“Let it dangle backwards,” his soft voice whispered in your ear. “Do not worry.”

You swallowed hard already anticipation humiliating failure as you allowed the dagger to tip slightly to the right.

Aemond’s fingers caught it before it could fall from your grasp. “Not bad.”

You locked your narrowing eyes with his uncovered one in disbelief.

“Could be worse,” he rectified, urging your fingers to close around the handle once more. “Grip it.”

Your eyes widened and your heart nearly stopped.

Watching his fingers close around your hand, increasing your hold on his dagger reminded you of something else…

Of how he had once taught you how to grip his—

He clicked his tongue. “Focus on your fingers. Not mine.”

The tease.

Would it be that wild to admit you had become addicted to his touch?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You also loved it when Aemond woke up with his hard cock in full display, only to watch him wrap his long fingers around it.

He lazily stroked it.

It was his very own silent and intimate way of teasing you.

It was simply mesmerizing.

He knew you were staring at him, and he also knew you enjoyed the view.

How could you not? His thick cock eagerly leaking precum in drops that rolled down onto the base, pooling there briefly before sliding down his skin. Aemond had his fingers firmly clenched around him and once he had enough of holding back, his thumb sprang up to graze across the tip.

A delicious hiss clawed its way out of his throat.

It shot tingles across your body and all the way to your clit.

He had his forearm covering his eye as he kept on fucking his hand in front of you, his other hand was clenched into a fist, and you had to fight back the urge to grip it.

Your eyes focused on the way his veins bulged across the back of his hand with each lazy pump.

That was the last straw.

You quickly reached out to wrap his hand with yours, rejoicing in the fact that that heaved a needy groan from him.

Aemond chuckled lightly in between low growls. “Want to take over?”

You considered the proposition, but you adored it when he was the one setting the pace.

“Keep going,” you breathed before getting on your knees and bending over to press soft kisses along the back of his hand.

Another groan escaped his beautiful lips as he quickened his ministrations and the only thought you had in your mind was how much you adored gazing at his hands whenever he touched himself.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You loved falling asleep to his touch. It had become something you truly cherished, so whenever Aemond was around and had the time to be with you, you always asked him the same thing after sex.

“Please... touch me to sleep...”

He pulled you into his bare chest, you body melting into his perfectly. It made you feel safe and appreciated. Though he’d never such words of affirmation, you didn’t need him to.

His touch said it all.

A single finger traced your shoulder, slowly trailing down your arm.

You could feel his heartbeat drumming softly against your back, his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, lips almost touching you. It was pure bliss.

His finger reached the back of your hand, tracing lazy patterns on it and as he was about to envelope your in hand in his, he decided against it, bringing it to your side instead.

Aemond’s finger drew a single line, following your curves.

You fidgeted slightly under his touch. “That tickles.”

It wasn’t a complaint, and it only caused him to grip your hip while pressing a long kiss to your neck.

“Hold me...”

He tore his lips from your skin, and you could tell he was smiling. “Demanding, are we?”

“Only when it comes to you.”

And it was the honest truth and when he circled you with his arm, you felt yourself heat up from the shared intimacy.

You took his hand in yours, carefully studying every single edge, scar, and every single vein that spread from under his skin.

Would you ever get tired of his touch? Would he ever get tired of touching you?

A sharp inhale from Aemond was heard once your thumb brushed against a scar on the palm of his hand. You would never get used to seeing and feeling the injuries from countless battles mark his body.

“Are you well, Aemond?”

The kiss on your shoulder answered your question.

“Thought you wanted to sleep, my love.”

You absentmindedly kept caressing the ragged edges of the healing wound. “You want to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“You are a terrible liar, my prince.”

Aemond nuzzled into your neck, his three nose piercings gently jabbing your flushed skin.

“Only when it comes to you,” he whispered softly as he intertwined his fingers in yours.

You deeply and ridiculously adored this man.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Having Aemond on top of you and pounding into you in a display of primal desire did things to you that you would never dare utter out loud.

Through hazy eyes, you were able to see his hands grasping yours on either side of your head. It dragged the loudest moans from you as his fingers were laced with yours, and just like an exemplary lover, he would not let go.

He kept you under his grip as his cock slid in and out of you, obscene wet sounds filling the room.

Your eyes started fluttering shut as pleasure started to cloud your vision and your mouth fell open in a silent gasp.

But right before you could welcome your release, he pulled out, and you watched his hands quickly leaving from yours.

“Aemond… no!” you cried out in sheer frustration.

“I am sorry.”

No, he wasn’t.

“Fuck off,” you spat as you watched him slide two fingers knuckle deep inside you effortlessly.

Your back arched reflexively when he curled them. “Look at me.”

But what caused you to bite back a moan was the sight of his thumb hovering over your clit.

“Please...”

He didn’t need to be told twice. The pad of his thumb pressed into your clit as he expertly dragged his fingers in and out of you.

“Look at you swallowing my fingers...” his velvety voice edged you on, dirty talk being something he excelled at.

It was so hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head as you watched his skin coated with your wetness, protruding veins sprawled across the back of his hand glistening.

You truly adored his hand.

You adored his fingers.

You adored his touch.

You adored all of him.

you, bitch. he's expecting YOU.

2x01 || 2x03 || 2x07

thee has done it once again!!!

Dreaming

Summary: An unexpected turn of events has you sharing a bed with Prince Aemond. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. There is only one bed. Fingering. Handjob.

A/N: My thanks to @1800-fight-me for rekindling my passion for this trope!

Word count: 1.7k

Keep reading“Have I seen you before? You look familiar.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you the cunt who stole my bag of cabages a fortnight ago?”

“No.”

You felt Aemond shift at your side, probably gripping the dagger hidden underneath his cloak.

The innkeeper did not seem convinced in the slightest, keeping his bulging eyes fixed on the young Targaryen prince whose face remained mostly hidden under the hood.

“We need a room with two beds, please,” you chimed in, hoping to dissolve the unwanted tension that had settled.

The man turned to you, occasionally glancing at Aemond. “Only have one room. One bed.”

“That’ll do.”

Aemond approached the counter before you could, handing out a few gold coins that the man eagerly collected and shoved in his pocket.

“Why the eyepatch?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Had a little trouble with someone, eh?”

The implication wasn’t entirely subtle, considering the earlier accusation he had thrown at Aemond.

You held your breath momentarily, praying that Aemond would simply ignore him.

Much to your relief, he shot a cold stare at the old man. “I paid for a room, not to get questioned.”

“Aye, fair enough,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “The room’s to your left.”

Aemond turned first and made his way down the gloomy corridor to your left. You promptly followed suit after heaving a deep sigh of relief.

The last thing you wanted would be to draw attention to yourselves while being so far away from King’s Landing.

You were a riding day away from the Red Keep and were forced to seek shelter for the night, as Vhagar needed her rest. The persistent thunderstorm and heavy rain did nothing to help your cause either.

As soon as you entered the room, you nearly huffed in annoyance at the sight of the narrow bed shoved into one corner.

It didn’t seem wide enough to hold two people.

Aemond’s low voiced snapped you from your thoughts. “You can take the bed.”

You immediately shook your head. “No, my prince. I will gladly take the floor.”

Aemond turned to you and shrugged. “As you wish.”

Oh. That was quick.

Your heart clenched, but you remained silent and watched as he removed his heavy cloak.

You didn’t exactly expect him to be persistent on this matter as he was a prince and you a mere lady-in-waiting to his sister.

It was your own fault for assuming your relationship with Aemond was anything but strictly professional. Even if the two of you had shared a few journeys across Westeros.

Once he realised you were frozen in place, his uncovered eye landed on your face. “What is it?”

The question caught you off guard. “Oh. Nothing, my prince.”

“Tell me,” he pressed, arching an eyebrow.

“Maybe we could share the bed?” you suggested, lacing your hands in front of you. “It would be a tight fit, but I see no reason to sleep on the floor.”

His eyebrow arched further. “You said you wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“I don’t mind, but that doesn’t mean I want to, my prince,” you said as your voice came out slightly strained. “It is pouring outside and way too cold.”

He remained silent, studying your face.

“Unless you mind sharing a bed with me,” you quickly added, not wanting to seem out of line.

“I do not mind.”

And with that being said, he proceeded to undo his leather jacket.

You swallowed hard, turning your back to him as you the slide the heavy cloak off your shoulders.

It was far too cold to even consider removing your dress, but the mud stains and dampness deemed it a necessity.

Fortunately, you’d be able to preserve your modesty with the chemise you were wearing underneath.

Once you turned to face him once more, you noticed Aemond shared the sentiment as he was stripped down to only a shirt and his pants.

You tried your best not to let yout eyes linger for too long.

Gods.

He didn’t seem to pay any attention to you, so you took the opportunity to slide off your dress and remove the filthy shoes.

“Ladies first,” he said nonchalantly.

You glared at him momentarily, feeling your heart skip several beats by the time you had managed to hop into the squeaky bed, shifting to the side until your back was pressed against the wooden wall.

Aemond quickly followed you and rolled to his side, being careful enough to leave enough room between the two of you.

You then took the opportunity to pull the blanket rolled at the feet of thr bed to cover both of you.

The sound of your frantic heartbeat filled your ears as you were left facing his broad back that heaved with each steady breath he took.

You allowed your eyes to roam across his body, noticing how the linen shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination as it clung to the defined muscles.

Realising you had been gawking for far too long, you snapped your eyes shut, silently wishing you’d be able to find any comfort, regardless of the current predicament.

“Sleep well, my prince.”

But no answer came from Aemond.

…

By the time you woke up, the sound of low growls next to your ear had you open your eyes at once.

Some time during the night, you had rolled to your other side, facing the wall, and with an arm wrapped firmly around you.

But what truly had your heart speed up was the realisation that it was Aemond Targaryen who was pressed against you, rolling his hips lazily, as his shaky breath fanned your neck.

Chills spread across your skin as his hard cock dug into your backside.

Your lips parted in a silent gasp.

As you turned your head to him, you noticed he was asleep.

He looked peaceful enough if not for the furrowed brows and soft groans that rumbled through his chest and throat.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to ease his grip around you, but moment you did so, he bucked his hips, further pressing his cock into you.

“Faster…”

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

He was having a dream.

Aemond let out another strained groan as he mumbled your name.

He was having a dream about you.

Panic overtook your senses and you felt overwhelmed with the confirmation.

It was flattering to have such a handsome man crumbling from thinking about you. Even if unconsciously so.

There was something primal and urgent that you took from the way he rolled his hips as if desperate to be inside you while mumbling something in High Valyrian.

You had to bite your lips hard to hold back a gasp as the young prince rammed into you.

As expected, your own body began to respond to the stimulation and you could now feel your heartbeat pulsing through your swollen clit.

Gods.

You were literally trapped between the wooden wall and his body.

“My prince…” you whispered, placing your hand on his forearm, gently patting it.

“Hmm…”

His hips stilled for a moment and you gasped as he moved the hand around you to fiddle with your chemise, sliding it up your torso and exposung your flushed skin to his touch.

“Aemond…” you nearly moaned from his hot breath on your neck. “Are you awake…”

“Hmm…” he panter lowly, bring his hand to rest on the underside of your heaving breasts.

Oh.

You moved your hand to grip his, desperate to halt the delicious way his thumb grazed your skin.

Wetness coated your folds as the need to be filled took a hold of you.

Instead, Aemond took your hand and brought it in between your bodies, until it was pressed against his hard cock.

You weren’t able to fight back a moan as desired burned through him.

Aemond heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Grip it.”

As if trying to further entice you, he pressed a searing kiss to the skin of your neck, moving his hips in a slow roll once again.

Pleasure took control of you and your fingers wrapped around the hardened outline, as his cock dug into your palm.

So many thoughts ran through your head, but not one was compelling enough to bring you to reason.

This should not be happening.

He was a prince.

And you were just..

“So good,” he cooed, planting a few more kisses just behind your ear. “Tighter…”

The amount of moans you had been holding back were starting to strain your throat.

You did as he requested, biting down on your lip until you almost drew blood.

Aemond grunted as rolled his hips into your touch.

“Moan for me,” he said before gripping your hand and shoving it inside his pants.

You let out a breathy gasp as your fingers wrapped around his impressive cock, his own wetness coating your skin.

Aemond was soaked.

“Oh… oh….” you moaned as you struggled to grip all of him.

He hissed in your ear, snapping his hips into a sloppy rhythm as he fucked your hand.

“Tighter, my lady…” he groaned in urgency, undoing his pants, tugging them down just enough to spring his cock free and giving you more room to properly slide your fingers along it.

Before you could fully process everything that was happening, Aemond splattered his hand on your lower abdomen, dangerously close to your throbbing clit.

“Aemond… please… don’t,” you pleaded, knowing fully well you wouldn’t be able to hold back if he touched you like that.

Another kiss to your shoulder followed by a low chuckle made you shiver against him.

“Let me feel how wet you are for me.”

His words dragged a low cry from you, but it was the feeling of his slender fingers sliding across your folds and clit that caused you to jolt back into him.

Your mind was too hazy from lust to focus on his cock, causing your hand to still around him.

That didn’t seem to bother him, as he simply proceed to fuck your hand regardless.

“How many fingers can you take?”

Oh… my….

“I… I don’t…” you began, but were interrupted by Aemond slowly shoving one finger inside you. “Aemond…”

“Say my name again,” he urged with such urgency you nearly came undone right then and there.

“Aemond…” you repeated, parting your legs slightly to allow his finger to slide deeper inside.

“Can you take a second one?” He asked, his voice in tones of honey. “Can you do that for me?”

You honestly couldn’t give him an honest answer. Both stemming from inexperience and from how too lost in your own pleasure you were.

“Please,” he asked, pressing his palm into your clit, causing you to cry out. “You’re wet enough.”

Not trusting your words, you simply nodded.

Aemond wasted no time and had a second finger join the one already inside you.

Your walls stretched around him and greeted him in a warm and soaked welcome.

His hips snapped rapidly into your touch and you squeezed him as tight as you could, delighted to hear the wet sounds.

From his fingers pumping relentlessly in and out of your soaked pussy to the realisation that you had the young prince in the palm of your hand, you weren’t at all surprised when your vision began to blur.

“Sweet girl…” he praised mindlessly as he neared his own release as well.

Aemond was thrown over the edge first, spilling streaks of warm cum to coat your back and ass and hand.

The needy and desperate moan that erupted from him as his hips jerked in a final and broken rhythm was enough to plunge you into a blinding wave of bliss.

Aemond’s hold on you didn’t falter until he had your walls clenching around his fingers in gripping contractions.

Your lips parted wide to allow a strangled cry to fill the room as your thighs quivered with such intensity you had to grip the edge of the bed to hold yourself in place.

“Can we stay like this?” Aemond asked after a while, his breathing still uneven.

“Hmm…” you merely groaned, all the energy having been drained from you.

He shifted closer until his softening cock was pressed flat against your ass, keeping his fingers buried deep inside you.

i present to you the best piece of media i've consumed all week

Take a Seat

Summary: You tell Aemond you can´t stand him. He invites you to take a seat.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Face riding. Oral sex. Aemond is a tease. Aemond's nose is amazing. Masturbation. Aemond’s POV.

Word count: 1.3k

“Aemond!”

Your screech reverberated through the walls of his bedchambers.

The young prince reckoned it wouldn’t take much longer before your angry voice was heard yet again.

“Aemond!”

There it was.

A wave of satisfaction rippled along his entire body as anticipation gradually built up.

“Where are my clothes?” you bellowed in frustration from inside the bathing room. “Your sister awaits me! I will be late.”

Truth be told, Aemond dreaded having to part ways with you this early in the morning. Selfishness might be an overstatement.

He preferred to see it as a need.

The need to have you around and all to himself.

To consume all of you.

So, he decided to hide your clothes and bath towel while you were readying yourself for another day at court.

Quite a dull a fair, in his opinion.

He could deliver so much more to you than a day of walking around behind his sister and tending to her needs.

What about his needs?

And yours?

His antics proved to be enough to kindle your anger and frustration, which would only work in his favour in the end.

The dragon always comes out victorious.

As soon as your burst into the room, dripping wet and ready to pounce him, Aemond felt a rush of blood flooding downwards in a subtle tingling sensation.

“What did you do with my clothes?” you growled, taking large steps in his direction. “I will be late!”

Aemond merely shrugged, grateful that his ever growing erection was neatly hidden away from you under the bed cover.

He watched in sheer delight as you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he promptly deflected with one hand, his reflexes sharp as ever.

“You are so… infuriating!” you sighed in exasperation.

A teasing smile curled his lips. Getting under your skin had become one of his favourite pastimes. It got you all riled up with this pent-up tension that he’d so gladly fuck out of you.

But then something else crossed his mind.

Oh… you were probably going to flip at this.

But he was feeling particularly daring and willing to push you a little more than usual.

“I’m feeling feverish,” he started. “There’s this pain….”

And just as he had predicted, the visible traces of anger on your face faded into a worried look.

You sat naked on the edge of the bed, placing the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Where does it hurt?”

Aemond lifted the bedsheets, revealing his hard cock to you. “Here.”

You immediately scowled at how shameless he was.

“I was seriously worried!”

And just as you stood up and were about to smack him, he took the opportunity to grab both your wrists and had your leg swing over his body with such refined skill you were left sitting on his bare torso at lightning speed.

You tried to jerk free from his grasp. “Aemond! I’m going to be late!”

He honestly couldn’t care less. Having you fully naked and on top of him only served to further ignite his desire for you.

“Your sister awaits me near the gates of King’s Landing,” you huffed in annoyance. “We are going for a walk today.”

“I’ll fly you there on Vhagar if I have to,” he said casually, rubbing both thumbs along your pulse points. “I am sure my sister can do without you for a while, my lady.”

Once again, you yanked both arms in an attempt to break free, but all in vain. He was far too strong, and he wasn’t willing to let go of you just yet.

“I cannot stand you!” you growled menacingly.

What a blatant lie.

All that forced outrage had his cock twitch in anticipation. How he adored fucking you into submission, peeling off all those layers that you so vehemently insisted on keeping on just to have him crawl for you.

You were aware of your hold on him. If you really wanted to, you’d be able to bend him to your will.

He’d do everything and anything for you.

“Say that again.”

Your eyed narrowed with renowned defiance. “I cannot stand you.”

“Then sit on my face.”

Your eyes then widened in surprise. “What?”

Aemond wanted to let go of his hold on you have his hands cup your breasts, but he decided against it. He wanted to make sure you were fully committed to him.

“Let me taste you,” he insisted, his cock throbbing lightly.

You faltered briefly as you clenched your thighs around him. “You’re so…”

“So what, my lady?”

Aemond then let go of you, knowing fully well he had you trapped.

“Infuriating.”

“I’ll take that as compliment,” he said and with one hand, he smacked your ass lightly, but you didn’t budge.

“I… I am going to be late…”

Aemond was a patient man, but his patience was wearing thin. “Then stop wasting time and ride my face.”

You hesitated at first, but caved in eventually. He slid his pillow to the side so that he could be the perfect seat for you. Carefully, you lifted yourself from him before finally settling directly above his face.

Aemond wouldn’t mind parting ways with life with the sight of your inviting pussy as his last memory.

What a glorious way to go.

He nearly letting out a groan and a sigh of relief rumbled across his chest the moment you were fully sitting on him.

Instinctively, he brought both hands to grip your thighs. The delicious moan that escaped your lips was incentive enough for him and without much effort he parted his lips and delved his tongue deep inside you.

Delicious.

“Oh…”

You were so fucking endearing. The fact that you were still surprised that he could deliver all that pleasure with just a few strokes of his skillful tongue did wonders to his ego.

Your folds encased the corners of his mouth, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

And he had no intention of doing so.

Aemond was well aware of how to increase the pleasure he delivered to you.

He knew you would quiver from feeling his nose pressing into your swollen clit.

The moment he did so, his hands had to grip your thighs harder to keep you in place from all the shuddering.

An intense shiver ran down his spine as he was able to feel the pulse from your throbbing clit on his nose.

Truthfully, he simply could never get tired of how your body responded to him so eagerly.

His hips to shot up reflexively as his cock twitched from the need to be buried inside you.

“Aemond… not … not the—”

Your words faded and turned into a pleasurable moan as soon as his tongue went deeper, forcing his nose to press into you harder than before.

Aemond was still able to watch you gripping the headboard for support, before shutting his eyes as overwhelming bliss filled him. His cock throbbed with each heartbeart and the skin at the base pulling as he hardened even more.

He kept tongue-fucking you, drinking in your juices and your whimpers. Your wetness was now spreading across his chin, and he brought one of his hands to free his cock from the sheet on top, allowing it to spring free. The dire need to fuck you was ever growing.

But he had would have you reach your peak on his face rather than his around his cock.

The way his nose rubbed your clit caused your hips to buck and jerk from the stimulation, forcing his other hand to increase his grip even more on you to keep you in place as you were riding his face.

“Oh… oh… Aemond…”

You were done for.

And so was he.

He wrapped his fingers around his leaking and needy cock, yearning for nothing more than relief. It was becoming unbearable to feel your heartbeat invade his mind and travel down his body in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

A high-pitched moan fell from your lips. “Aemond… my prince… please…”

Aemond had no need of your words of approval or praise or bliss. He could feel your pleasure and that was all he needed.

Showing was far more saturated than telling.

The obscene slurping sounds coming from him were enough to have his hips jerk once again as he fucked his hand desperately.

He was too close.

Almost embarrassingly so.

He was aware that pumping his own cock drastically hindered his endurance. There was only so much he could withstand.

Soon enough, he felt your thighs begin to quiver erratically as he ran his tongue along the sensitive clit.

With a few more jerks from your hips, you were catapulted into your orgasm, shaking violently into his face while raking your fingers through his hair before gripping a few strands forcefully.

“Good… so good…” you cried out too lost in your own pleasure as a gush of your wetness flooded his tongue.

Not long after, he felt your legs begin spasm uncontrollably. And he didn’t just feel this because they were tightening around his head; he felt your every contraction and twitch as he brought his nose to tease your swollen bud, tongue still lodged between your soaked folds.

And that was precisely what pushed him over the edge.

The overwhelming pleasure took over him completely and Aemond reached the point of no return. Hot spurts of cum shot from his tip with each spasm of his own body; the muscles in his thighs and lower abdomen tightened along with his balls.

No words in High Valyrian or any other tongue could do justice to the intense pleasure that took over him.

A few strands of hot liquid ran down his fingers, but he paid no mind to the mess. His own heart pounded insanely loud inside his ears and he stopped breathing for a moment as a guttural growl ripped through his throat through gritted teeth.

You slid off to the side, allowing his deep groans to echo around the bedchamber.

Aemond’d endurance was something he took pride in, but a powerful release was still enough to have him panting and feeling lightheaded. Your juices were spread across his chin and lips and jaw and nose with a few drops running down his face.

“I still cannot stand you…” you struggled to say in between pants.

He licked the excess liquid from his lips, locking his eye with your hazy ones. “Are you challenging me to bring you to your peak once more?”

“I am already late,” you protested, struggling to slide out of bed and nearly tripping as your legs wobbled from having your strained leg muscles.

Aemond couldn’t help but to chuckle as you tried your best to keep your balance.

“I will carry you to Vhagar and fly you there,” he offered. “I doubt you’ll be able to walk regardless.”

It was in moments like these that Aemond was thankful to his fast reflexes as his hand prevented yet another pillow from reaching his face.

if you’ve been following me for 4+ years i’m certain you could make a chart of every character i’ve gotten attached to and it would tell you more about me than any therapist’s notes ever could. but we don’t have the time for that. there are other things at hand. do not even worry about it. next exhibit. we’re moving along. we’re walking

In the Morning

Summary: Aemond loves being buried deep inside you.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Fluff. Cockwarming.

Word count: 900

It was Aemond’s hard and warm cock sliding along your ass that rose you from your deep sleep. One arm draped over your waist as his thumb grazed the underside of your breasts, his nails lightly digging into your skin, serving as a reminder that you were his.

Sharing a bed with Aemond meant complete nakedness. He adored having you stripped bare for him, and you adored how he was willing to do the same for you.

He’d be at his most vulnerable with you.

The non verbal language between you two was second nature.

With each slow roll of his hips.

His arm’s hold on you.

The warm lips pressed on the nape of your neck before sliding down to feel your quickening pulse.

The need to be inside you first thing in the morning was primal.

You could feel him intentionally raking his teeth and nipping at you, pulling the neediest moans from you.

Aemond wasn’t one to willingly show emotions. Over the years, he had trained himself to be calm and collected.

But when it came to being buried deep inside you, he always found it in him to succumb to his urges.

“Leg up,” he whispered in a breathless velvety voice that had you instantly perk up your ass against his cock.

You reckoned he was still half asleep and was moving on pure instinct. After all, there was no need to for words when he was already this hard and eager for you.

As soon as you lifted your leg, he pressed a long kiss to your neck while his hand traveled downwards just so he could brush your clit with his thumb.

Your body had grown so accustomed to his touch that, in no time, your clit would swell and throb and your walls would clench, ready to welcome him inside.

You needed all the preparation you could get to take him with so little effort and he was more than willing to aid you with a few lazy rubs on your clit.

With no warning, he pressed down on it with the palm of his hand and you jerked reflexively against him, angling your ass in a way that had his leaking tip jabbing at your entrance.

Even after having his cock inside you so many times, your pussy would always struggle to accommodate him.

In one swift thrust, he pushed the head into you, forcing your walls to stretch out around him.

It was still too tight for him, which had him still briefly.

“Don’t clench,” he said, voice briefly faltering. “Do not.”

“I’m not…” you answered truthfully, holding back a pained sob once you realised he was barely halfway through.

He groaned in your ear, pulling your leg up in an attempt to ease his cock all the way inside you.

“Fuck…” you let out a soft cry, gripping the sheets around you for momentary relief.

The stinging sensation that rippled across your walls came to a halt and you felt completely stuffed with him.

“You always take me so well…” he praised more like an afterthought before dropping your leg and pressing your thights together, further increasing your grip around his cock.

The sun was barely up outside, and you realised right there and then that this was not simply about lust that had taken over him first thing in the morning.

This was something else.

Aemond stilled inside you once more, but this time he made no further attempt at moving.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck while enveloping your torso with one arm to have your back fully pressed against him.

Lust and intimacy entwined to create a combination that always had your heart skip several beats.

You heard him heave a deep and relieved sigh.

Because Aemond craved that connection more than anyone else you had ever known. More than he allowed others to know.

He found that in you. Inside you. Around you. The sort of comfort many search for endlessly and seldom find.

The sort of comfort you were certain he never thought it’d be his.

You’d stay like this for a while, and while the prospect of making love to him definitely allured you, this had you feeling undoubtedly blissful.

His breathing was back to being soft and regular, indicating that he had most likely fallen back to sleep.

Inside you.

With you.

Despair

Summary: Aemond craved you to the point of despair.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Masturbation. Aemond’s POV. Breeding kink.

Word count: 800

Keep readingAemond should have more resilience.

He wished his body and mind would agree on this much.

He wished he had the will to rein in his lust for you.

He wished he could have all of you.

Instead, he was left to handle this nuisance on his own.

Aemond heaved a deep sigh as he wrapped his fingers around his throbbing cock.

Fucking his hand would never come close to how he envisioned fucking you.

Even as he tightened the grip around him as a reminder of how tight you were, it wasn’t enough.

You were too tight.

He had relished his fingers inside your several times to know you’d fit his cock perfectly.

The mere memory of having your walls clenching around his fingers — as he uttered profanities in your ear in some dark corridor of the Red Keep — was enough for a deep moan to leave his parted lips.

The need to be fully inside him consumed him day and night.

As the first droplets of precum pooled at the tip, Aemond knew his body was starting to respond to that need.

He could be patient and wait for you to be ready to take him.

It would require skill and no less amount of time to have your pussy dripping for him.

Droplets of precum rolled down his cock, coating his fingers and knuckles as he pumped himself slower, yearning to know how it’d feel to slide inside you for the first time.

“Fuck…”

His hips rose from the bed so he could gently push his cock deeper into his grip, the image of you on top of him nearly overtaking his senses.

There was no denying nothing else had such a hold on him. He couldn’t wait to be be buried inside you, filling you with his seed. He’d give it all to you. Every last drop.

He’d have you full to the brim with him so Gods helped him.

The strokes quickened and wet sounds soon echoed through the room, gradually bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

It didn’t take much to get his release these days.

Not when the pent up despair and lust for you had reached dangerously high levels.

Aemond slumped into his bed, focused on having his hand glide along his cock in blinding delight.

“Prince Aemond?”

He snapped his eye open at once, freezing in place.

Another light knock on the door.

His torment was suddenly on the other side.

You.

“Prince Aemond,” your sweet voice tried once again. “We are about to break fast.”

He would have melted from the innocence that coated your voice had it not been for his cock demanding his attention.

“Prince Aemond?”

Aemond contemplated letting you inside to witness his thirst for you, but he was too close to hold back.

He simply would burst at the mere sight of you.

As such, his hand resumed a steady pace, further bringing him closer to the edge.

He just needed your voice for now.

Trying to control his ragged breaths and moans, he finally spoke, “What is it?”

“We are about to break fast,” you said, your voice was as honey to his ears, unknowingly urging him to go faster. “Are you coming?”

The unfortunate choice of words drove him to bring the back of his hand to his lips, sinking his teeth into the skin.

He was so close.

Too close.

“Is everything alright, my prince?”

Gods.

You were so fucking sweet.

Not able to hold back any longer, Aemond set a final rhythm with his slender fingers gripping his cock tighter than ever.

“Yes…” Aemond moaned through gritted teeth.

“So you’re coming?”

“Yes!” he grunted lowly.

Aemond felt the familiar licks of bliss wash over his entire body in a sudden heat wave as your voice guided him through it. His hips stilled violently and he felt the first streaks of warm cum coat his exposed lower abdomen, some even reaching his hardened nipples.

His breath came out in shallow pants and he dropped his hand to the side as the other milked the last drops of his release.

All of it going to waste, unfortunately. You would have looked glorious with his cum dripping from your face, breasts, belly…

Or better yet…

Having it neatly stuffed inside you in the hopes he’d get to see you swell with his child.

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵❤❤❤❤❤

Magic Flute

Aemond Targaryen x Librarian!Reader

Summary: You were in charge of upkeeping the room of knowledge in the castle. Aemond was in charge of upkeeping the upkeeper's sanity.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Brief mention of mama issues, crying, fem!reader, smut (public sex ig, praise kink, biting), established relationship, typos, etc.

A/N: move over daemon, it's aemond brain rot time. who needs therapy when you can write fanfics🎈 the title is totally not about aemond's magnum co-

"I can understand why people reread books," I speak to the silver haired man, though I make no effort to turn to him, since my focus was on tomes on its shelf, "but you, my prince, read that as if your life depended on it." I look over to Prince Aemond, who looks like I just asked him to jump out of the window beside him. I raise my brows, "perhaps you are unaware that has a second part?" He stiffens. My face contorts in horror when I see red rise up from his neck, "apologies my prince. I did not mean to offend you." With that, I scurry away. Aemond shot out of his chair and raised his hand for naught.

I heaved heavily, willing the tears streaming down my face away. I ripped at my cheeks and prayed to all the gods that Aemond would be late today.

I laugh pathetically at myself.

Like seven hells he'd be.

I rub my eyes one last time and release a deep breath.

I gather myself up, bunching my skirt in my hand. But before I could even walk to the end of the isle, I gasp at the sight of the prince standing before him. My hands fly to my chest. His own that were behind him fall to his side.

His one eye takes in the sight of my tears. He tilts his head, "what was it this time?"

"A splinter," I blurt too quickly, too unconvincingly, too prepared.

"Mm," he steps forward, "a funny thing to call your mother."

I do not rebut, nor do I move. I only allow him to press near enough that I could hear him breathe in the silence of the room. I gnaw at my lower lip as his hands land on my shoulder.

"Allow me to rephrase," his hands brush down my arms, "what did your mother say to you this time?"

My eyes water so quickly that I could not do anything but cry.

His hands rest by my cheeks, pushing my tears away. I instinctively lean into his touch as I shudder out, "I would not dare worry my beloved prince."

"Then speak."

I close my eyes as I sigh. My hands grab onto his wrists and I begin to form the words in my head, "she made me out to be a fool again-- in front of everyone, my younger siblings, the good God in heaven, our housecats..." I heave, finally opening my wet eyelids. I frown deeper when I see his expression, the curve of his brows and lips.

"Aemond, I told you, I-"

He silences me with a kiss. It is firm but quick, and the moment he pulls away, he looks down on me with the same expression, "you're quite annoying when you're like this."

I am taken aback my his words. I scoff, "when I'm what?"

"When you think you're above being helped."

The annoyance on my face fades.

He lifts his head, as if in challenge, "you think I do not worry about the darkness in me that's corrupting you?"

"But that's diff-"

"How is that different?"

I knit my brows at his sardonic look and I grunt, "because I love you."

He chuckles, brushing my hair behind my ear, "you wound me deeply, lover," he presses a kiss on my forehead, "do I not show you enough that my feelings are mutual, if not more?"

I try to push back when he pulls me into his chest, just so I could look at him when I say, "You know I did not mean-"

"Yet it's what it means," Aemond dismisses, locking me in his arms until I have no choice but to relax against him. He releases a sigh, kissing the crown of my head, "good girl."

I begin to snake my own arms around his torso, feeling lulled at the sound of his heartbeat against my ear.

Aemond leans his cheek against my head and rubs circles on my back, "now that my adoration for you has been brought to question," he leans back to take my face in his hands again, "it is only right I recount all the ways my heart bleeds for you."

I am powerless against him when his lips press against mine. No amount of better judgement could have repelled me from kissing him so eagerly. Even as he shifts in his spot, pushing me against the shelves, sealing me against him, I do not squeak any form of protest.

It is only when his hands expertly grab at my skirts and handle my thighs that I finally gain some semblance of reason. I press my palms on his chest, half-heartedly pushing him off so I could moan his name in protest.

He mistakes this as praise as he bends and pulls me onto him, securing my legs around his hips. I hiss at the friction in my core and pull away from our kiss, "Aemond, please."

His lips quirk, "so restless," he pecks my lips then trails down to my neck, "I'm getting there, my dear."

My hands dart to his shoulders. I do try to push him off but he is too eagerly working on my skin than I decide it would be better to dig my fingers into his nape and tug at his roots.

He moans against me, hips grinding me harder into the shelf.

"Aemond," I whine, breathlessly.

"Shhh," he kiss my lips, laughing darkly, "someone could hear."

All at once, the haze in my mind is lifted. By the time Aemond secures me against the shelf, I glare down at the scumbag, "that's what I've been trying to t-"

One of his hand flies to my mouth and my core is absolutely titillated by the vibrations of his chuckles as he rubs against me.

"Don't test me," he whispers against my ear, "you know I love the pretty sounds you make." The remaining hand on my thigh makes its way to my center. I screw my eyes when I feel his fingers rub against me. Aemond chuckles again, "be a good girl or I'll make sure you have no choice but to scream."

When he pulls his hand away from me, he props me down on the floor. I look up at him and gulp at his hot gaze as he undoes his pants. I lick my lips and watch him as he does so, readying my skirt back up, making him chuckle.

Once he is free, I don't manage to do much as he carries me back into our previous position and hastily sheathes himself in my burning heat.

He does a better job at concealing his groans. I however have to bite down on his shoulder to shut myself up.

"Good girl," he praises, positioning his hands on my thighs again, squeezing the flesh tightly.

My hands claw up to his shoulders as I pull my head back to allow myself to heave heavily.

He takes this as his cue to begin his ministrations. When he does, my arms latch around him and I bite my lip for dear life. I bottle in the whines I would have screamed out had we been in his chambers. In exchange, however, so I don't slip into madness, I rip at his blonde roots and bite at his earlobe.

He sucks in a deep breath, repositioning me against the surface so to get a better angle.

I cannot help but mewl against his ear when he begins to move so deliciously into me. I choke back whines, opting to bite down on his neck to keep myself mute.

He growls when I suck on his skin, pulling away. He looks down at me and warns with both his voice and his hips, "play fair."

I barely have my eyes open when I retort, "you feel so good." I make the mistake of not closing my mouth after, which is why my moans ride up and down with this thrust.

"Fuck," Aemond mutters, covering my mouth with his in an attempt to shut me up. He nips at my lower lip, thinking it would make me close it, but I only end up moaning louder.

He quickly pulls away and slaps a hand back on my lips. He does not even scold me upon seeing how I was coming undone against him. His lips tug into a smirk as he roughens his actions, my moans threatening to spill from his palm.

"So pretty against me," he croons, as if he wasn't absolutely destroying me right this moment, "so loud and wanton, and all for me."

My pulse begins to quicken. My breath behinds to lose me.

Aemond watches me as I open my eyes. He releases me and I crumble against his shoulder, biting down again at his shoulder.

Aemond is so wondrously controlled that his brutal actions were barely audible, even with how he was fucking me against the ancient shelves.

"Say my name," he commands.

Obviously, I don't, cause I wont' say it, I'd scream.

He still urges me though, and snaps his hips harder in that instant, "say my name against my ear so you will not forget again who loves you so, who makes you feel so good like this."

I hold back a whine. It takes everything in me not to be loud. I mutter under hot breath, "Aemond."

He growls, pace reaching a plateau at the speed his is in, "again."

The squeeze he gives my thighs make it impossible for me not to squeak. Still, I do my best to do his bidding, "Aemond."

And as if that was the secret code to pleasure, I clench around him and moan out his name one last time, a lot louder than anyone else in the vicinity would have enjoyed.

Aemond doesn't find it in himself to care as he chases his own high and subsequently spills into me as I shake against him in pure relief. The feel of him coming into me leaves me reeling.

He lets us ride the feeling up until he is too sloppy and spent to move at all.

I drag my lips over to his and pepper him with kisses as I repeat his name over and over and over again.

He leans into me, repeating the praise but with my own name instead. His hands finally release my thighs, only so he could gently put me down and bring his hands to my back.

I whine in protest, unwilling to unravel my legs against him.

He chuckles at that, and cannot bring himself to deny me of his touch. Aemond pulls me back in, making me squeak and he throws me up in his grip to readjust me on him.

He kisses both sides of my cheek before muttering, "you did well, my love."

I wrap my arms tighter against him as I release a breath, "only because you did me well."

"Mm," he smiles, planting a kiss on my lips.

"My prince!"

My heart leaps into my mouth.

The sound draws nearer, "Prince Aemond!"

As much as I don't want to, I shuffle against him. He looks down at me with a raised brow as he suppresses my motions. I whine, looking up at him, "Aemond," I whisper-yell, "he's going to-"

"My prince!" the voice yells, "are you h-"

"I swear to you," Aemond growls so loudly that I cower at its intensity, "if you so take a step closer here, I will have both your eyes and feel you to Vhagar."

I slap his shoulder, releasing a whine.

"What?" he turns to me with a pount, "you wanted this."

Wine

Summary: You have too much to drink with Aegon and Aemond is left to deal with the aftermath.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Attentive Aemond. Alcohol.

A/N: My first try at some comic relief (hopefully)! I want to thank @aemonds-war-crime for inspiring me to write this! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1k

“Let me go fetch a few dresses and we’ll get right to it!”

Aegon grunted, taking yet another sip of his cup. “No! I will not wear a dress.”

“But you’d look so pretty,” you cooed, slumping against the wooden table in utmost despair. “A blue one would go well with your eyes!”

That caused Aegon to shoot from his seat to join your side. “You think?”

You clapped enthusiastically, forgetting the cup in your hand and spilling wine over both of you.

“Oops!”

Aegon gasped dramatically before bursting into laughter with you.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

You turned in your seat and blinked up at Aemond, surprised to see him there all of a sudden and out of nowhere.

It was clear your senses weren’t as tuned as you’d hoped and the young prince could avoid being noticed if necessary.

Aegon made a snorting sound and rolled his eyes. “Ugh… here comes Prince I-must-not-have-fun…”

A rush of boldness and you bolted into lover’s embrace.

“Aemond!” you giggled, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “I’ve convinced Aegon to try a few dresses.”

He stiffened lightly under your touch. “Charming.”

“I think he’ll love it,” you whispered dramatically into his ear.

Aegon slamed the golden cup on the wooden surface. “Aemond must join in, then.”

“Yes!” you beamed, bouncing on your feet with excitement.

Until the room pitched to the left and Aemond had to grab you with both hands to keep you from toppling over to the side.

“You would look lovely in a rose pink dress, little brother,” Aegon grinned.

Aemond shot him a murderous glare.

“No, really,” he continued his teasing in between sips. “I’d give up my birthright to witness that.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a menacing smile. “You can say that again, brother,” his tone deceptively light and nonchalant.

“Can I?” Aegon laughed, raising his cup to him.

You merely clapped your hands in pure delight. “I adore you both!” You said, turning to take a seat, but halted midway as Aemond gripped you waist.

“Time to go to your bedchamber,” he said, removing the empty cup from your hand.

“Oh!” you wiggled your eyebrows. “Are we going to… you know—”

Aemond immediately interrupted you. “I’m sure Aegon doesn’t need to hear this.”

“But I need to know!” you demanded. “I may need some help getting undressed.”

Aemond’s face went livid.

“By all means, carry on,” he taunted, emptying his cup. “Pretend I’m not here.”

Aemond clicked his tongue. “Of course,” he huffed in annoyance before turning to you. “Say goodbye to Aegon.”

You lifted your hand to wave as a pout turned your lips. “Goodbye, Aegon.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” he said out loud with a smile, refilling his cup.

You allowed Aemond to guide you silently along the stairs and halls of the Red Keep.

“Aegon can be so much fun,” you whispered, leaning against his shoulder and looping your arm through his.

“You shouldn’t have been drinking with him,” he said, catching you as you tripped over thin air for the third time. “His stomach is bottomless.”

“But he’s fun,” you said with a hiccup before freezing as you took a turn to the left. “Why is the corridor spinning, Aemond?”

Your balance was so off that it was a surprise you hadn’t met the floor already.

Or maybe it had something to do with the handsome young prince who refused to leave your side.

“Just keep walking,” he said. “I’ll help.”

You accepted his offer and proceeded to stride valiantly through the wobbly hall ahead.

“Do you think he’d wear a dress?”

“What?”

“Aegon wearing a dress, Aemond,” you said impatiently, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Keep up!”

“Hmm.”

You sighed. “I really think he’d look adorable.”

Aemond disentangled your arm from his to place one hand on your shoulder. “How much did have to drink?”

You pondered briefly. At least as much as your brain would allow.

“Two cups…” you said. “… maybe three.”

Aemond was not particularly fond of his brother’s drinking habits, especially when they were extended to you.

His eye was fixed on your face. “Next time I’ll be there.”

Bur you were not paying attention to him anymore.

You narrowed your eyes, wondering why there were suddenly two Aemonds in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” Both of them asked in unison.

“Ugh…” you drawled, reaching out with your arm to one of them, only to grab nothing but air. “… why are there two of you?”

“What?”

You rubbed your eyes rapidly and blinked.

Only one Aemond Targaryen stood before you, looking perplexed as he gripped both your shoulders.

“Let me carry you.”

You flinched away from his touch, stomping your foot. “Absolutely not! I am perfectly capable of carrying myself into my bedchambers, kind ser.”

Every single time you stumbled, he would just correct you as his hand hovered your elbow.

Aemond clicked his tongue, pacing closely behind you. “You nearly walked off the balcony. Twice.”

“Nonsense. Blasphemy,” you muttered as he steered you in the right direction. “Very serious accusation.”

You then inhaled deeply, trying to settle the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“Let me carry you before you hurt yourself,” you heard his voice behind you.

Instead, you strode rapidly, almost colliding with the wall to your right had it not been for Aemond’s quick reflexes.

“Alright. That’s enough,” he said, hoisting you effortlessly with his arms and bringing you close to his chest.

Your stomach violently lurched. “Put me down. I think I’m going to be sick…”

For the first time that night you heard a chuckle from him. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wrapped your arms around him for support, feeling you head spin dangerously fast, but still managing to find some comfort in his embrace.

“Your hair is so beautiful…” you whispered giddily.

“Hmm.”

“Let me braid it…” you offered.

Aemond remained silent as he carried you across the poorly lit corridor.

“Let me add some adorable velvety ribbons.”

No reply.

“Please?”

Nothing.

“Come on! Please,” you whined into his ear, tightening the grip around him. “Please… please. I’ll give you a kiss.”

This time Aemond chuckled. “A kiss?”

“Yes!” you smiled enthusiastically. “Many kisses.”

“We have an arrangement, then.”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew he was smiling.

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 literally never disappoints

Curiosity

Summary: Aemond may be an exceptional swordsman, he may study history and philosophy, he may ride the largest dragon in the world, but he still has much to learn.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Inexperienced Aemond. Oral sex (f receiving). Praise kink.

A/N: I received a request wanting to see more of an inexperienced Aemond. It was interesting for me to explore this concept as I tend to write him as very savvy when it comes to sex and intimacy and taking the lead. I hope you enjoy this!

Word count: 1.3k

“Tell me what to do.”

“Are you certain of this?”

“Hmm.”

You sighed. “Aemond.”

Prince Aemond sat across from you on his lavish bed, fully naked, and with a look on his face that could bring a valiant man to his knees.

The only sliver of modesty was a the bedsheet that he had placed across his waist.

It didn’t leave much to the imagination, but it did leave your heart beating faster in anticipation.

“Eyes up here,” he said, snapping his fingers.

You jolted and straightened you back, as you met his eye.

“I can tell you want to do,” you started, letting the silken robe around your shoulders to slide slowly along your arms. “Or I can show you.”

Aemond Targaryen swallowed hard, his uncovered eye landing on your exposed skin.

You allowed the fabric to drape around your arms teasingly, with unspoken promise of what else you had reserved for him.

“Just tell me.”

Aemond was as persistent as ever. The need to always be in control seeping through the cracks of his forced calmness.

Chuckling, you brought your fingers to graze over your nipples. “This is not a fight, my prince,” you shifted closer to him. “We are not sparring.”

His eye widened slightly as you brought your nipples to a a hardened peak.

“Think of it as a… dance,” you said with a smile, rolling one nipple in between your fingers as if inviting him to take your place.

Aemond’s lips parted as he gazed at you with undivided attention.

“Give me your hand,” you asked, extending yours.

Seeing that he didn’t return the gesture, you spoke again, “Or do you wish to give me your lips instead?”

The invitation caused him to regain his composure, looking away momentarily.

“My prince…” you said, yearning for his gaze on you once again. “Look at me.”

Aemond’s eye immediately snapped to your face, lips pressed into a firm line.

You could feel the burning desire coursing throughout your body, further ignited when his hand slipped under the bedsheets to cup his covered cock.

It was your turn to be amazed at how needy Aemond could be.

Aemond was needy as he was inexperienced. He was reluctant to give into the life of pleasure his elder brother had chosen, but some urges were hard to quench by yourself.

“Give me your hand,” you said, feeling your clit begin to swell. “Please.”

This time, Aemond leaned forward and reached out to offer his hand, while the other slid along his cock.

As soon as you brought his fingers to your breast, you let out a gasp, relishing in the warmth and firmness of his touch.

“Let me see it,” you whispered, eyes fixed on what you craved the most.

Aemond took a deep breath as he squeezed your breast lightly, before tossing the fabric to the side, revealing his hardened cock.

The urge to lick the leaking tip nearly overtook you, but this wasn’t about you indulging in your own desires.

Prince Aemond wanted to learn how to pleasure you and you would gladly guide him.

“What do you want, my prince,” you asked, mesmerised by the droplets of precum that rolled down his thick cock and coated the fingers wrapped around it.

He hesitated for a while, halting the strokes. “Let me taste you.”

You shifted even closer to him, giving him access to your breast while he caressed the other.

“No. I want to taste you.”

Oh.

He promptly slid from the bed and knelt on the carpeted floor.

The young prince who rode the largest dragon in the world, had knelt.

For you.

You tossed your legs over the edge so you could face him.

“Show me what to do,” he said, placing both hands on the fabric covering your thighs.

Parting the robe fully, you exposed all of you to his gaze.

Aemond was eager to learn.

To please.

Behind that impenetrable armour of duty and honour lay something more primal.

Your legs moved apart, presenting the ultimate invitation you could offer him.

Curiousity guided him to your core as his slender fingers tentatively touched your folds. “How are you so wet?”

His lack of knowledge was nearly endearing. He had never once witnessed the effect he had on your body when you’d share fleeting kisses across the Red Keep.

Prince Aemond, much like his mother, was thought to be too pious to succumb to the sins of the flesh unless duty was in order.

That was until the seeds of curiosity had began to grow and spread in his mind.

“Because…” you started, but failed miserably as he dragged one finger, his eye taking in how vocal youmd get whenever he brushed against yout clit.

“Tell me, my lady.”

“Get closer…” you said.

Your hands grasped at the sheets underneath you and a shiver ran down your spine once you felt his breath drawing near.

As much as you wished to let his figure out how to pleasure you on his own, you knew he craved more than words of guidance.

He craved your praise.

“This…” you said as you parted your folds to expose your throbbing clit to him. “Lick it… slowly.”

Aemond parted his lips and flattened his tongue against the swollen bud, causing your hips to jerk involuntarily.

In all honesty, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of his handsome face flustered in between your legs, tongue ravaging you.

His inexperience was showing and you had to force a steady voice. “Slower… you can suck…”

Aemond took pride in being a fast learner, promptly wrapping his lips around you clit, slowly suckling on it.

“Slower…”

His dedication was in itself enough to have your walls clench around nothing, let alone his burning touch.

“There… good,” you cooed in delight, leaning back and placing your legs on his shoulders for better support. “Good boy…”

The moment those words left your lips, Aemond halted his ministrations, eye on you.

“Carry on, my prince…” you urged him impatiently. “You’re doing so well…”

Aemond released your clit, allowing you to see the wetness coating his chin and lips.

“Sylutī…” he said while licking his lips clean. “Delicious.”

You were having a hard time controlling your ragged breaths, the alluring promise of release taunting you from not afar.

Heaving a deep sigh, you pressed your thighs lightly on his shoulders, urging him forward. “Tongue out, my prince.”

He complied instantly, eye fixed on your face and waiting for your command.

You sat upright and brought one hand to back of his head, pushing him into you and gasping loudly as his tongue poked at your entrance before sliding all the way inside.

Aemond grunted deeply and you felt your walls clench around him, but what truly made you arch your back in riveting bliss was feeling his nose digging into your clit as he slurped your wetness.

“Aemond… Aemond…” you gasped, lacing your legs behind his head and further pressing him into you. “My prince…”

His long nose worked in unison with his tongue and the obscene wet sounds of him feasting in you had you throw your head back.

The sudden jab of pleasure hit your clit and it spread like wildfire across your entire body and you spilled moans and cries, bucking you hips into him

Aemond allowed you to ride his face as you rode out the intense wave of bliss that had crashed into you. Relentless as he was known to be, the young man chuckled as he felt you contracting rhythmically around his tongue.

Your arms gave up from under you and you slumped back into the shits, panting heavily as he dragged his tongue in between your folds.

“Did I do good?”

“Aemond…”

He planted wet kisses to your thigh. “Was I a good boy, my lady?”

I love your writing!! Would you be willing to write an Aemond x reader fic where the reader has a large scar on her neck and he comforts her because she's insecure about it? Thank you :)

Scar

Warnings: Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

A/N: I absolutely adored this request… thank you so much for sending it!

It was said that time healed most wounds of body and mind.

However, once you were forced to gaze upon the reminder of your pain on a daily basis, things could get out of hand.

You dreaded looking in the mirror.

In fact, you had them all removed from your bedchambers.

It was daunting enough having to feel it.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your bitter thoughts. “Come in.”

The door swung open and you glaced to see Aemond Targaryen pacing toward you, looking as dashing and impeccable as always.

He came to a halt just behind you, one hand resting on your shoulder.

“Are you well?”

“No.”

You were exhausted from having to pretend this didn’t affect you. Having to put on a mask brushing aside the discomfort and shame.

It was unbearable at times.

The moment he moved his hand closer to your neck, you immediately flinched away, covering the cause of your tormed with a gloved hand.

“Do not…” you whispered not daring to look into his eye. “Just…”

Even though your words failed you, Aemond’s did not. “You can show me.”

The familiar sting of tears pooling in your eyes, made you feel utterly powerless.

You did not want him to see you cry.

You did not want him to think of you as weak.

He took a few steps until he brought his hands to your arms, offering you warmth and tenderness that you had grown to hold dear.

“I know of your pain,” he said, in tones of genuine affection. “I know what it’s like to hide away.”

Strength faltered and you crumbled completely in a muffled sob, crashing into his embrace.

Aemond remained in silence, allowing you to pour out your pain through tears and whimpers.

He was a good listener, your Aemond. But it was his words and touch you yearned for when seeking comfort.

“I’m broken…” you sobbed into his chest.

Once he was sure you had calmed down, he cradled your face in his hands, making sure you locked eyes with his. “Remove my eyepatch.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks and you swallowed hard before complying.

“Do you think I’m broken?”

You shook your head immediately, feeling knots of guilt twirling in your stomach.

Aemond’s scar ran through his browbone and across his sapphire eye all the way down to his cheek.

How could you be so senseless?

Aemond knew firsthand the hurt that came from being marked permanently.

“This,” he said, slowly and cautiously bringing his fingers to graze the ragged surface of the scar on your neck. “It takes nothing away from you. You are as whole as before,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours, carefully tracing the uneven edges. “You will be angry. You will feel repulsed. You will demand revenge for it, but it will only consume you instead.”

You brought your hand to return the gesture, pressing your thumb across his own scar, admiring how beautifully it framed his glistening eye.

“I just… want to hide it,” you confessed, trying to hold back your tears.

“You do not have to hide it from me,” he said as he pressed the softest kiss to your forehead. “Ever.”

i shouldnt have to deal with things <3,,,,