Despair

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.

you, bitch. he's expecting YOU.

2x01 || 2x03 || 2x07

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.”

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

<3

2x13 || 3x10 || 3x13

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.”