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Warmth & Stories - Aemond Targaryen x Wildling!Reader

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Summary: Love can bloom in the most unusual ways. The love between a stoic prince from the South and a wildling storyteller will be written in history as one of the strangest but truest of loves.

Author's Notes: To my very lovely and wonderful friend and beta reader Bel, aka @valeskafics, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's! This is the first part of this fic gift I wanted to give you, and I promise the next part will have smut! I hope you like this fic and can feel my love and appreciation for you. Bel, you are one of my favorite writers of all time and a huge reason I began posting fanfics and writing in the first place. I am so grateful that you opened a whole new world for me, and I hope this year gives you lots of happiness.

Warning(s): Slight cursing, Reader's parents were killed, Daemon's an ass, Viserys is a negligent father, Westeros is Westeros, dysfunctional family shenanigans

Prince Aemond Targaryen was known to be many things. Proud. Serious. Studious. All things one should be proud of in a young man’s position. Every single one of his teachers and wet nurses sung praises of the young prince since he began to toddle. And although it might seem cruel to admit it, the second prince was the apple of the Queen’s eye and the clear favorite of her four children.

Her sweet Aemond was a mild, studious young boy who practiced his faith in the Seven despite his blood lineage belonging to the Old Gods of Valryia. Besides Aegon, he had always been respectful to his siblings–especially to his elder sister, Helaena. Aemond would often humor his sister’s strange ramblings and gift her with little creatures he found as he wandered the ancient walls of the Red Keep. Helanea, despite all her reclusiveness, only seemed comfortable enough to be touched with her younger brother and often offered comfort whenever he complained about how unfair it was that he still had no dragon. His sister was as fond of her younger brother as he was of her and would usually humor his requests.

Except now.

“Please?” Aemond had been pleading for over an hour, reaching a point where most would pity him.

“No,” replied his sister sternly, “I’ve already told you my answer won’t change.”

“But why?” he pathetically asked as his voice cracked. It was good that Aegon was still in his room, too drunk to start the day. Aemond would never have lived it down without allowing his brother to see him like this. “I won’t ask for anything else from you, I swear it.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“But why?” demanded Aemond. “I would never harm (Y/N). Name one person in the Seven Kingdoms who would treat her better than I?”

Too upset by his sister’s refusal, the prince stormed out of the room in a near-blind rage.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no noblewoman or someone with any particularly wealthy connections or background. You weren’t even someone born within the Walls in the North.

No, you were from a tribe of wildings that hailed outside the Wall and were brought within the borders after your parents were caught stealing. The Starks decided to spare when they realized their daughter was just a tiny child with an incredible talent for storytelling. Within a year, the tales that Y/N wove with her tongue had reached the ears of Aemond’s father, King Viserys of House Targaryen. The King was fascinated by the young girl beyond the Wall, who spun tales of giants and spirits from the Land of Always Winter. He spared no expense in bringing you to King’s Landing.

Aemond could remember the day so clearly, as you arrived very shortly after his bastard nephew took his eye in Driftmark, and his father did nothing but protect his whore of a half-sister. When brought into the keep, you could hardly present yourself to a room full of nobles, let alone the King. You stood before his father and family barefoot and filthy. Your clothes looked closer to rags and torn cloth, and your (h/c) mane was wild with a few braids and feathers. But that hardly mattered. As soon as you opened your mouth, it was as if everyone in the Great Hall had been transported to another world.

The story you told started with a young princess given a toy soldier named the “Nussknacker.” The young princess loved her little toy soldier so much that her sweet Nussknacker came to life one night. He told the princess a prince to a winter wonderland full of fairies, sugar plums, and magic. His home had been overtaken by a maniacal Rattenkönig, and he turned the prince into his current form. The soldier and princess had to face many trials, but they were successful in defeating the evil Rattenkönig and saving the prince’s kingdom. The Nussknacker turned back into the handsome prince he had always been, and he and the princess married to lead his kingdom into prosperity.

By the time you finished telling your story, the Royal court went ablaze with applause. Your pretty words and skillful tongue enraptured every noble. They longed to hear more of your stories and were starved for entertainment. His father was in an especially jolly mood after hearing your tale. He immediately appointed you as the troubadour of the Royal Court held in protection under the Royal Targaryen House. A proclamation that horrified both the king’s Hand and the Queen, to say the least. It was no secret that Aemond’s mother and grandfather did not look favorably on you. More than once, he heard his mother seethe in anger at the attention her husband gave to you as you sat beside him during his father’s pain flares. In her eyes, you were a savage hellion who likely spread her legs up from the Wall in the North to the Great Hall of the Red Keep in the South.

But in Aemond’s eyes, you were an angel. It was not only his father’s pain you soothed with your stories, but also his own. He tried his best to keep his distance from you, but it wasn’t long until you gained his sister’s favor. From then on, whenever he spotted Helaena, you were by her side. The tall and icy walls he tried to maintain around you came crashing down before he knew it. His mother so loved him because he always did as she instructed, including to remain far away from the new child from beyond the North.

But one night, the scar on his eye had been so painful that he gained a fever that lasted for nearly a week. The maesters weren’t sure if he would survive the sickness, as it was a result of his lost eye being inflamed. His mother had resigned herself to crying by his bedside while his sister would sit with him and talk about her day. But one night, when he was delirious with pain, you somehow managed to sneak in from one of the secret tunnels within the keep’s walls. He couldn’t see you, but he recognized your voice. He wanted to scream for you to leave his room, threatening that he would call over the guards standing outside. But then you spoke, and it seemed as if his world of pain had just washed away. You spoke to him about the history of Old Valyria and the beautiful tales of dragons and knights that were lost in time. This continued on every night during his ailment.

“Do you miss your parents?” Aemond asked you one night. But he immediately regretted his question when he saw how your shoulders tensed.

“Sometimes,” you replied after a few moments of silence, “I understand that they are in a better place, wherever they are. But sometimes I wish they were here so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“But you have Helaena to be with you. Even my father adores your company.”

You only scoffed in response.

“Helaena is wonderful,” you bitterly continued, “I am glad to have a friend as sweet and kind as her in this poisonous hellhole you call home. But your father-” you paused a moment to lick your lips to figure out how to phrase your thoughts – “all he sees me as is a toy. A commodity. A funny little object that he bought to entertain him. He never mistreated me but does not respect me as a person, let alone as a subject.”

The tears in your eyes welled to the point where they almost spilled, and you immediately stopped talking to prevent further incriminating yourself.

“You have no idea what it’s like-” you let out a bitter laugh before continuing to cry – “to have your family taken away from you. To watch your parents be executed before your eyes when you were only a small child. And for what? Stealing a loaf of stale bread? What should that matter to the Starks? They have their pretty castle with warm fires and fur blankets. My mother and father worked for everything they had in order to care for me. Now here I am, away from the silver winter I called home and stuck in the shit-odor that covers precious South.”

“However much you hate your family, at least you still have them. I have no one. No one to share my culture and past with, no one to understand your customs and way of life. Call my parents whatever you want. Savages. Thieves. Scum. But they loved me. However little it was, they taught me to be proud of myself. They were my whole life, and now they’re gone.”

You ran out of his chambers and back into the wall. Aemond didn’t see you for several days, even after his fever broke and the maesters told his mother he would live. Two weeks passed, and Aemond felt as if he were going mad. When he finally spotted you in one of the more secluded areas of the library, he grabbed your arm before you could scurry off.

“Tell me,” he told you. “Tell me everything about your parents, your home. Tell me about how the air was clean and clear. Tell me about how everywhere you looked, you saw white snow and clear ice. Tell me how much you loved your family, pets, friends – if you had any. I don’t care what it is. Tell me everything.”

At first, you only stared. He couldn’t tell if you were furious or in shock. But soon, your eyes lit up as if you had been given five hundred gold dragons.

“Where do you want me to start?” you asked him, eyes wide with joy and a heart finally learning to trust.

Lo and behold, he found his heart beginning to feel the same.

“Wherever you want.”

The smile you gave him was worth more than all the money locked within the Royal Treasury.

So many nights since that day, you would sit by his bedside, speaking so prettily that even the most brutal of their acts and customs fascinated Aemond. You would burn the midnight oil, telling him about the adventures and raids of the Free People beyond the Wall. That’s how you referred to yourself as a “free woman.” While you despised the title “savage,” you did not mind being labeled as “wilding.” You claimed that since you were born outside the Wall, the laws of Westeros did not apply to you. You have been seen as wild, but you knew in your heart that you were born free. And what was more impressive to Aemond was how you honestly and sincerely believed that you were born as a free woman.

He saw it in the way you would make little shadow puppets shows to bring a smile from Daeron after it was announced that he would leave for Oldtown.

He heard it in how you got the cooks to spit on your name after stealing bread from kitchens and then giving it to the small folk children living in impoverished areas of Flea Bottom.

He smelt it in how your hair would always smell like the wind in the Godswood to ride his horse when you were supposed to be learning your letters with the Head Septa.

He tasted it when you let him take a sip of that rotten ale you made in secret when you went through one of your horrible bouts of homesickness.

He felt it in how you raced to his chambers to hug him after he woke up from another nightmare of the memory of that night when he lost his right eye.

You were the strangest mystery Aemond had ever and will ever know. No matter how long he spent searching for answers in his favorite corner of the library, Aemond could never understand how someone with a heart as warm as (Y/N) could come from the frozen wasteland she loved to call home.

With a single but powerful stroke of his blade, Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s upper jaw fell as the rest of his body dropped to the floor. Visenya’s Dark Sister had once more bathed in its victim’s blood. Gasps and shrieks filled the Great Hall at the sight of dark blood oozing from his corpse. The members of the Royal members all had varying reactions. From his mother’s side, Helaena immediately covered her eyes and turned away – utterly horrified by the swift mutilation. Aegon grimaced but was otherwise unaffected. Not surprising. He’d seen similar carnage from the illegal fight rings run in Flea Bottom. Aemond took a slight step back in shock as he gaped at the now-deceased lord in mild admiration.

He had no idea tongues were so long.

Prince Daemon Targaryen stood before his ailing brother, tall and proud. There was not a twinge of remorse or regret on his youthful visage as he towered over the spilled blood soaking his boots. Undoubtedly, this man carried the blood and fire of the proud dragons that graced their house.

“He can keep his tongue.”

Brutish as Daemon was known to be, Aemond respected his uncle’s instinct to remove objects that voiced slander against his wife. However much of a whore his half-sister may be, she was still of royal blood and their father’s firstborn.

However, he wasn’t sure how much that last fact mattered, considering how she spread her legs to swill only to produce bastards as her heirs.

His grandfather ordered the Kingsguards to disarm his uncle, but Daemon only scoffed as he wiped the blood off his ancient blade with an old rag. Moments later, Aemond’s decaying father collapsed on the Iron Throne in exhaustion after over-exerting himself. His mother immediately rushed over to aid him when she heard his pained groans.

“Call the Maesters!” she shouted before reaching him. And when his father fell into her arms, that was the first time Aemond saw you throughout this entire proceeding.

You stood close to the walls, remaining present but unseen. It was not until his father called for you by his side that he removed you from your hiding place. You and an apprentice Maester took Viserys to his chambers, leaving behind his wife, children, grandchildren, and every member of the Royal Court. As Aemond watched you carry his hobbling sire to his chambers – likely to recite to him a passage of the History of Old Valyria or one of the many tales surrounding Queen Visenya’s practice of the dark arts – his blood froze as he noticed Daemon’s gaze was focused not on his brother, but on you.

An hour had passed since Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s unfortunate passing, and Aemond was still no closer to finding you. He felt as if he was going mad in desperation. He checked everywhere. The kitchens, catching you sneak bites of freshly baked honey cakes. The stables, to find you feeding the mares and stallions carrots and apples. Your chambers, spying through the keyhole as you sat at your desk writing new stories. He even went so far as to ride to the dragonpit, hoping that you were reading to Vhagar again. He was close to announcing an order to search for you to the closest Kingsguard when he spotted you standing underneath the Heartstree. When another figure approached you, the one-eyed prince was about to call out your name.

Daemon. And judging by the way his violet eyes leered at your womanly form, it was clear to Aemond that this meeting was no coincidence. Aemond stepped out of view and pressed himself close to the garden’s entrance. The silver-tressed prince cursed himself for not publicly claiming you so everyone knew you were his and his alone. Differences in stations mattered little when you grew up so beautifully.

A fact he was sure that did not go unnoticed by his uncle despite meeting you for the first time.

Not for the first time did Aemond find himself cursing the gods for creating perfection in a single woman. Time had been unkind to many but seemed to spare you of any misfortune. While you were far from the polished and perfect image of a proper lady, you slowly but surely assimilated yourself to life in the South of the Wall. You traded your hides and furs for dresses and trousers. Your wild (h/c) mane became untangled by his sister’s ladies-in-waiting frequent brushings. Regular meals and proper care took a starving child with sharp, bony jabs to a woman with soft, feminine curves and beauty rivaling the Maiden herself.

“How have you found your time so far from the wall, little wilding?”

“I spent every waking second soaked and flushed from sweat and heat. To make it worse, I can’t escape the shit and piss that stains and bathes your pretty keep. Tell me, does that answer your question, my prince?”

Daemon barked a short laugh, amused that his brother took in someone so clearly different from the court’s usual vultures.

“When I heard my brother had taken in a little girl from outside the wall as his little entertainer, I was expecting a hobbled cripple caked in dirt with no sign of grooming. But here you stand, appearing more like a proper lady than a savage wildling.”

“You can take the girl from the North, but you can never take the North from the girl.”

No truer words had ever been spoken.

Aemond smiled at your quick wit and tongue. You were still every bit of the girl dragged before his father when he was only ten name-days old, even if you changed a little bit.

You still styled your hair with the little braids commonly worn in the North, but sometimes, he would catch Helaena tucking feathers in your locks.

You still carried your father’s old hunting knife on your person, but you also kept the Valyrian steel dagger Aemond gave you on Yuletide Eve from three years past.

You still made frequent trips to pass the bread to the small folk in Flea Bottom; you always made sure to help lead Aegon back to his bed after he drank himself stupidly.

It was a challenge, but you’ve adapted and made a life here with the Royal Family, whether you liked it or not.

“Do you ever plan on coming out from behind the wall, my prince? Or do you plan on renouncing your title and becoming Master of Whispers on your father’s small council?”

Realizing that his cover has been blown, Aemond brought himself in view to face the wildling girl who had stolen his heart almost eight years ago. He was relieved that his uncle had left the gardens, probably to inseminate his half-sister once more. It was as if she needed more children to convince all of King’s Landing that her claim on his brother’s throne was legitimate and valid. It did not matter that the evidence of her whorish nature was growing before their eyes.

“Careful, my lady,” replied Aemond, “one might think your words as treason towards the prince.”

“Please,” you scoffed, “the only people who continue to insist on taming my tongue are your mother and grandfather. And we both know my opinions of both parties.” Your cheeks began to flush, and your demeanor grew shy as you whispered your following words. “Besides, why would I need to be afraid of anything when I have you?”

Oh, how his cold, bitter heart grew ten times warmer with your sweet words. He removed his black riding gloves, reached for your hands, and was taken aback by how cold your skin felt against his own.

As if afraid of his voice, he cradled your hands softly as if he were the hunter and you were a little snow rabbit on the edge of running away. Your unblinking observation persisted as you silently watched your silver-haired prince raised both of your hands to his pink lips. He took in a deep breath before exhaling out. The heat of his breath against your fingers sent chills down your back. His mouth was opened just enough for you to see his tongue, bringing a deep sense of shame to wash over you as you dreamed of how good it would feel to have his tongue feast on your cunt.

“What possessed you to come outside without a cloak?” The low timbres of his voice broke you from your lust as you just now realized that you brought yourself into his trap. “It is already winter (Y/n). You could grow sick if you are not careful.”

“You forget yourself, Aemond,” you replied, tearing your hands from his grip. You almost wept at how profoundly you felt the loss of his warmth. When did his hands become so rough and big? “I have the true North in my veins. Such meek and pitiful clouds and winds could never get me ill.”

“Why were you outside at all?” Aemond had hoped to find you in one of the rooms with a fire roaring inside. Even if you were not alone, you would have been warm.

“Thinking about home, I suppose. I was tiny, but I would help gather whatever wood was available and put it in a big pile. We would put on our ceremonial furs and robes, along with masks we painted from the skulls of our kills. After that, the adults would drink themselves stupid on ale and heated yak’s milk as they and the children would gather around the wood pile and then burn it. I remember dancing with my parents around the fire as we sang praises for the old gods and yelled out prayers for the sun. A few boys would probably try to sneak some kisses from the girls with mistletoe.”

The silence that followed only added to the tension.

“I think I would have been stolen by now.”

“Stolen?”

“Your Southerners version of ‘marriage,’ I suppose,” you stated as you lightly shrugged, “at my age, if you weren’t stolen, it meant that something was wrong with you. If I remained with my tribe, some man would have stolen me by now and pumped me full of his babies.”

Aemond saw red. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles further paled to an almost translucent view of his veins as he imagined some savage, wildling man forcing himself on you. He wanted to ride Vhaghar beyond the North, if only reaching beyond the Wall and burning it all to the ground. No man other than him was allowed to touch you. He had only touched your hand and already decided that the rest of you belonged to him and him alone.

Taking a few steps closer to you, he removed his leather patch and lifted your chin between his fingers to force your focus on him. His ears caught a slight intake of breath when you saw his sapphire eye as he was so close that he could practically feel your heart racing in anticipation. He preened in satisfaction when he caught your perfect (e/c) irises dart down to his lips before resting his face again. Aemond didn’t need to look down to know that you were clenching your thighs in an attempt to stop your arousal from leaking.

His sister’s approval be damned.

If your traditions dictated that you must be ‘stolen’ to be a wife, then he would be the one to steal you.

“Sweet (Y/n), you’ve grown so cold.”

Do you wish to go back?

His face was so close to yours that you could feel breaths mix with your own. You could smell the fine leather of his tunic, and the fragrance of spices from his silvery locks wrapped you in a blanket of comfort. His violet eye’s gaze showed a vulnerability lost since that night in Driftmark. The night when he gained a dragon at the cost of becoming a cripple. If Aemond was to risk everything he’s worked for, he had to know.

Would you, a Free Woman, let yourself be called as his?

“No, my Aemond” - you took his hands in yours to tenderly kiss his knuckles- “not anymore.”

I am right where I belong.

And he believed you.

Tagging: @valeskafics, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @lady-ashfade , @faesspace, @its-actually-minicika, @aphroditesmoon, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @leavemeoutofitlay

Warmth & Stories - Aemond Targaryen x Wildling!Reader Part 2

Summary: Love can bloom in the most unusual ways. The love between a stoic prince from the South and a wildling storyteller will be written in history as one of the strangest but truest of loves.

Author's Notes: I had to get this out before January ended. This part does have smut! It is the second part of the holiday fic gift I gave to @valeskafics .

Warning(s): MDNI 18+, sex, breeding kink, blowjobs, 69 sex position, clothes ripping, loss of virginity

Usually, when it was late, you would often find Aemond in the library. You and he would swap stories about your day that often resulted in both of you giggling and gossiping like two shopkeepers’ wives. So when you find yourself in your two’s usual section without him, you think it a bit strange but do not enough to leave. You figured he was still enjoying supper with his half-sister and nephews. However, when the grand doors swung open to reveal a raging one-eyed dragon, you deduced that the dinner was less than a success. You were prepared to de-escalate his temper when he grabbed your arm. He then dragged you out of the library and inside his room.

He promptly caged you in his arms when he violently closed the doors shut.

“Aemond, what are you –”

Your outrage was silenced when your prince slammed his mouth against yours as he locked you in a crushing embrace. His lips were moving so feverishly that you could hardly match his pace. You tried your best to remain angry, but you quickly felt your body melted with his and realized that you wanted nothing more than to be devoured by him.

So efficient, your prince, he had managed to both quell your fury while also driving you mad with lust.

So often, you’ve dreamed of kissing Aemond, your sweet silver-haired Southern boy who captured your heart when he asked you about your life in the real North. You never expected to feel these feelings, let alone for a Southern man, let alone for a prince as beautiful as he. So many nights, you brought pleasure from your fingers by just imagining how his lips would feel against your skin. It was by no means as delicate as you imagined, but it was damn satisfying.

As he crowded you against his door, all of your senses felt heightened by his presence. Despite the cold winds blowing in from the window, you remained lost in the heat and haze that came from being loved by Aemond Targaryen. Pulling away for a moment of reprieve, your chest heaved in an attempt to catch your breath as Aemond made no effort to hide the ocean of love and lust in his eye. When enough air finally reached your brain, you could focus your vision enough to see the tips of your prince’s ear turn pink from his actions.

You closed your eyes as you inwardly preened at knowing that you made such a stoic man fluster. However, you may not have hidden your expression as well as you believed, given how Aemond shot his hips forward and let you understand how mad you’ve driven him. Even underneath the layers of fine leather and underclothes, you could feel the outline of his hardened cock press against your stomach. You tried to rub your thighs together in a pitiful attempt to ease away your arousal, but Aemond saw through your scheme. Nudging his knee between your legs, he lifted his leg until your wet center was grazing against his leather-clad thighs. His head dipped, and you wondered if he could feel your breath shaking under his lips as he mouthed along your jaw and down your neck. Meanwhile, his leg remained steady, and you continued to grind against the firm muscles of his thigh.

Riding on Vhagar certainly did wonders for his physique.

Ecstasy overtook you as you pathetically cried out your pleasure as Aemond’s lips continued down your body and lathered the swells of your breasts from your dress with his tongue and kisses. There was a knot inside you that coiled tighter and tighter as you ground your cunt in hopes that it would cause your release.

Aemond raised his head as he felt you ground harder down his thigh. When he saw the state you were in, he damn near tore your dress apart and threw you on the bed. But he refrained from any movement to aid you in your plight, delighted by the sight of you so completely enraptured by his actions as he was from your presence. But when he witnessed you thrusting your hips so pitifully, he couldn’t stop the smirk creeping on his face as he leered down at you. Lowering his head till his lips barely grazed your ear, you could tell how much it pleased him to feel how desperate you were for him.

“A few kisses,” he breathily whispered, “and already you’re thrusting your hips like the whores in Flea Bottom.”

“I ’m-I’m not a-a w-whore,” you whimpered out.

Gods, it mortified you at how pathetic your voice sounded. You tried to steady yourself by placing your hands on the stone walls of his room, but all it achieved was making you appear more vulnerable to your one-eyed dragon.

“Oh really?” Aemond was having so much fun teasing you. “Because only whores would try to reach their peak with such lustful abandon. Is that not your cunt currently soaking my trouser leg? Gods, you’re leaking so much I can practically smell it from here.”

Ever so swiftly, he moved his hand underneath your dress and immediately plunged two of his fingers into your sopping cunt. The knot inside you coiled so tightly that it snapped. Your eyes shot open, but all you could see was white and stars. Your body trembled as you opened your mouth, but no noise was made. The pleasure you just experienced was too great for words to describe it.

Aemond knew that you did not need to be prepped for his fingers, but he did not expect you to peak so quickly.

You felt your face ablaze in embarrassment. Where did your stoic yet kind prince go? Where was this silver-tongued cad come from? You reminded yourself to swap Aegon’s favorite wine with vinegar and beetroot juice. While the concoction would not deter him from drowning in his cups daily, you hoped it was enough to keep him in bed for at least a day.

You wondered if your prince could see you were lost in your thoughts and no longer paying close attention to him. He must have since his eyes showed a new determination. He flipped your position so that your chest was hard-pressed against the walls before firmly grasping the back of your dress. With half-lidded eyes, you opened your mouth to question him.

Rippppp

Immediately, your eyes shot open as you quickly realized that Aemond had ripped a clean tear down your dress and underclothes, leaving you as bare as the day you were born. Not even having enough time to shout your indignation, your prince swung your body onto his shoulder like you were just a flour sack. In a few short strides, he reached his bed and tossed you on top of the covers. Each curve on your body, from your full breasts to your soft thighs, beckoned him like a moth to a flame. Your tresses framed your face like a (h/c) halo, giving you an aura befitting of a divinity. Aemond had dreamed of this sight for as long as he could remember since he met you. It was almost enough to make him kneel before you and weep his praises while begging for your love and devotion to belong to him and him alone. He instead stripped himself of every layer of clothing until he was as exposed as you.

You watched in enraptured adoration as he continued tearing away each layer that hid his beautiful physique. It was torture to wait, but it was more than worth it. You felt your breath hitch as you took in each line and shadow of that creature, this magnificent being. Aemond was by far the most beautiful person you ever had the pleasure of witnessing. To see him with any clothes almost seemed like a crime with how he presented himself to you. The growth spurt from his thirteenth name-day, along with years of training under Ser Criston Cole and riding Vhagar brought forth the Warrior in mortal form. Your Aemond had a likeness that resembled a marble sculpture, with his lean and firm muscles under the unblemished pallor that made up the tall, elegant man standing before you.

But as much as you trusted Aemond, a small part of you was also scared. You were no Southern beauty. For the first ten years of your life, you had to hunt and fight for your right to survive. Such skills were remembered. You have grown beside royalty for eight years, but many would still find you lacking. And the pain - the pain terrified you. The women in your tribe and the small folk maids would warn against noblemen. Such men would often break a young girl’s maidenhood without any regard for her reputation – only to throw her on the streets to fend for herself.

Sensing your discomfort, Aemond realized he had acted too brash. While you would always be a wildling at heart, you spent years hearing horror stories from the maids of what happened behind the chamber doors of the highest nobility. He remembered how much Helanea had cried after her first night with Aegon, and he cursed himself for behaving as brutish as his pathetic brother. Leaning forward until he just barely hovered over you with his arm to keep him steady, Aemond softly dotted kisses across your face – your temple, your cheeks, your eyes, and even your nose – before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“My sweet, wild girl,” he cooed, “I swear to you that I will make sure that this will be enjoyable for us both. Such love between two equals, such as us, means that we were meant to be each other’s firsts and lasts. But if you do not wish to continue, I swear we will stop and only have each other’s company as proof of our love and devotion to one another. There is nothing but time for us.”

“Aemond,” you whispered, “you would do that? Would you truly wait for me?”

“(Y/N), your love is everything and more. So long as I have that, is there truly a need for anything else?”

Searching in his eyes to see if there was any trickery or deception, you only saw unadulterated and steadfast adoration. If Aemond were true to his heart, so would you. You summoned as much courage as you could and leaned forward from your back to kiss him this time. Relief filled your heart when he kissed you back.

Cupping your beasts with gentle hands, your silver-haired prince broke away for you to catch your breath and for him to look in awe at your naked splendor. The sight of you flushed and gazing at him with lust and reverence, with your breasts perfectly fitting in his hands, made his cock twitch. Pinching one nipple between his two fingers, Aemond watched with enraptured worship at your reactions. Boldness overtaking him, he lowered his mouth on your other breast and sucked hard on your mound’s peak. Breathless gasps and high-pitched sighs played a symphony in his ears. Having his fill of one, he switched his ministrations to the other. Your voice and desperation were growing only stronger.

“Aemond!” you exclaimed. “Something’s coming. It feels – it feels s-so strange!”

Knowing you were reaching your peak, Aemond took his free hand and flicked your clit. When he heard your wails, it pleased him more than any duel won. He began to press more against your soaking button, taking in the song of your lust.

Biting your lip, you squirmed and squealed at the shock of ecstasy coursing through your veins. Why was Aemond touching that place? And why did it feel so good?

“A-Aemond!” you keened as tears trailed down your cheeks. “What’s happening?”

“Let go, my darling,” he purred, “let me give you more pleasure than you have brought for yourself.”

The coil snapped, and your release was so much stronger than anything you have ever done to yourself. The release that Aemond provided for you was so powerful that you soaked the sheets and Aemond’s abdomen when you came. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths, and you swore you saw white at your peak.

“Aemond,” you sighed, “I wish to taste you.”

“(Y/N),” he stated with widened eyes, “there is no need. I do not expect such things from you.”

But you only asserted yourself by raising your torso from your elbows.

“Ameond, I want to taste and please you. Won’t you let me?”

“Alright,” he agreed, “but only I am allowed to do the same for you.”

“How would that be possible?”

His leer brought butterflies fluttering in your heart. “Let me show you.”

“There you go, my love. Spread your legs – let me see you. Gods, you’re perfect. Your cunt is so pretty and pink. Your scent alone is driving me mad with want. Do you not see the evidence of it before you?”

By the Old Gods and New, you have never felt so exposed in your entire life. Even your capture by the Starks and being brought before the King dressed in heavy chains and torn rags was less humiliating than your current position.

“Did he have to be so vocal?” you thought. “Is he trying to make me pass out from his words alone?”

Seeing you tremble from his voice as your arousal further soaked your lower lips brought such perverse fulfillment to the prince underneath you. Taking his hands from your waist, he palmed the cheeks of your ample bottom before spreading them for a better view.

“So nervous, aren’t you? There’s no need to fear my little wildling. There is only us in this room – there will never be another whom I will taste that way I will for you.”

You were only half-listening to your beloved prince – as you were still enraptured by the sight of the stiff, long, hot rod standing upright before you. His tip was pink with a bead of his pearly seed just leaving it. Being so close, you breathed in the scent of its musk of leather, sweat, and dragon’s smoke. Its pungency – although strong – captivated you and made you salivate instead of putting you off. So often, you would sneak into his chambers while he was riding, take any clothes put away for washing by the chambermaids, and breathe them in.

Just last year, your boldness allowed you to steal one of the undershirts he discarded. It was soaked and stained with his sweat from a particularly challenging sparring match with Ser Cole. You knew that he would not miss one out of dozens of similar articles of clothing, so you tucked it under your skirt and hurried away to the secret tunnels before you were caught.

It remains under your pillow, and you wear it to sleep every night.

“Are you going to begin? Or do you need my help?”

“Shut up!” you hissed with flushed cheeks. “Don’t rush me.”

“Just make sure not to use your teeth.”

Leaning forward, you stuck your tongue to kitten-lick the bead of his pre-cum. When you heard his guttural groan, you continued by swirling your tongue over the tip before wrapping your lips around the head. You then lowered your head so that your mouth could try and take as much of his length as possible.

“Oh, fuck!” Aemond gasped at the feeling of your warm, wet throat enveloping his cock. “Gods, you feel so good. Take more. Take my entire length down your throat. Oh, fu– yes, just like that. Now bob your head up and down.”

Doing exactly as he instructed, your eyes watered, and tears spilled as saliva dribbled from your mouth. How was he so big? When you took his entire length in your mouth, the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. You nearly gagged, but you fought against the impulse to keep bobbing your head down to take him in your mouth. His scent became only more potent as you continued, and you wanted so badly to taste his essence.

Watching your head moving up and down his cock only strengthened Aemond’s appetite for you. Finally, focusing on your lower lips, he slowly swept his tongue across your cunt. You were still soaked from your previous climax brought from his fingers, so the taste of your body’s nectar was heavy on his tongue.

What use was wine if he could get just as drunk from the ambrosia that came as the evidence of your pleasure from his actions?

Just a taste was enough to make Aemond’s mind rave with lust. Plunging his tongue into your heat, he was eating you out as if he were a peasant man who had been starved for months instead of the prince who lived in comfortable luxury. To Aemond, you tasted beyond exquisite. You were the greatest treasure in the entire keep.

Meanwhile, you were going insane from his tongue as you tried to keep up with pace. Faster and faster, you bobbed your head to quicken his release. You weren’t able to hold out for much longer, and you wanted him to come in your mouth at least once before you came twice from him. But the feel of his velvet tongue was too much to bear, and the coil in your stomach had tightened once more. Before you could even recognize the signs, Aemond’s mouth dragged out your release faster than before. It was not as strong as your first, but it was enough to make you release his cock from your mouth as you cried out your pathetic whines. You had not collapsed from the shock of it, and you maintained your position on your knees.

Fighting back the tears in your eyes, you once more wrapped your lips around his pink head. But this time, you felt a slight twitch in your mouth. Realizing that he would soon spill his release, you took the entire length of his cock in your mouth and stayed there. You only swirled your tongue across the veins on his member. Aemond’s lower muscles tensed as he felt his seed fighting to escape.

“FUCK!” he yelled out – loud enough for the entire castle to know what the two of you were doing.

 Soon, your mouth was filled with his white and thick seed. Aemond slid his limp member, and despite your face hidden from his view, he spied a small stream of white fluid dribbling out of your mouth.

“Turn around,” he ordered, “and face me when you swallow my seed.”

Slowly turning your body, your cheeks bulged from the volume of his release. When you swallowed his cum, he could see it go down your throat. When you felt the last of his spent trickle down your throat, you crawled up to lay your head on his chest. You laid little pecks down his throat and across his collarbone.

Having your body lain on top of his without the barriers of fabric and station blocking their love was heaven. A few minutes had passed before he felt himself harden again, and Aemond had one question left to ask you.

“Are you ready to be stolen?”

Tilting your head up to face him, your (e/c) irises were drowning in your want for the man in front of you.

“Yes.”

“Lay on your back with your head against the headboard.”

Positioning yourselves to be ready for what was to come, Aemond looked at you again for your approval. You slowly nodded, silently informing your royal love that you were prepared to accept all of him and his devotion.

He took his member, leveled it to your center, and slowly pushed the head in. He tilted his head to whimper and gasped at the profound heat surrounding him. When he pushed further, he marveled at how tightly your body gripped him despite him only being halfway inside you. The whimpers that left your lips implied him of your pain. But you dug your nails into his arms when he tried to stop.

“Don’t you dare stop,” you ordered him, “you sweet, wonderful fool.”

When he fully inserted himself inside you, you opened your mouth – but no noise left. There was pain, but you were so aroused that the sting only added to your ardor. Aemond leaned forward and pressed his forward to yours – it did not matter how you would insist he push on. This was your first time – and his too. You both needed a few moments to adjust.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked you when a few minutes had passed. “Are you sure you wish to continue?”

You nodded in confirmation. “Yes, my dragon prince. Please – I think I am ready now.”

Spreading your legs further apart so he could push himself deeper inside you, he thrust into you back and forth just slowly enough for you to feel every inch of him inside you. He prayed to the Seven Gods that you were drowning in the same ocean of desire he was. He listened to each gasp and sigh pass through your lips. If he focused himself enough, he was sure he could recognize the beat of your heart apart from any person in his father’s kingdom.

You wondered if you were in a dream with how much joy overflowed inside you. Cradling his cheek, you brought Aemond down to kiss him to show him the depth of your feelings. You brought him into your arms without breaking the kiss while wrapping your legs around his waist.

You wanted him to devour you.

Breaking the kiss, Aemond was in your arms as both of your chests were pressed against each other in each other’s embrace. Feeling your arousal wetting his cock, he began to quicken his pace.

“A-A-Aemond!–” You were gasping for air, but it would never be enough. “–I feel you! All of you – you’re so big! Oh Gods!”

Aemond bit the inside of his cheek for the pain to distract him from your cervix tightening around him.

“How does it feel to be stolen? Do you feel how tightly you’re gripping me?” he knew he was being cruel in his taunting, but he wanted to show that there was only him for you – not some barbaric hunter who didn’t bathe and likely lost all his teeth.

“You are mine – only mine. You were made for me (Y/N), as I was made for you.”

Placing one elbow on the spot next to your head and pushing himself up, he slid one hand down your body to press against your swollen clit. Your pupils dilated at the additional pleasure your silver-haired dragon knight gifted you. As your cries confirmed him of your satisfaction, he pistoned in and out of you.

“Tell me,” he hissed, “could another man bring you such pleasure – such love and devotion as I have for you? Do you think there would be another man who could provide more than I, the rider of Vhagar? If you must be stolen, it will not be done by anyone but me. Not my father, not my brother, not even by fucking Daemon – only me. Do you understand?”

You could only frantically nod. But it was not enough to satisfy your prince. He gave you a very hard thrust.

“Answer me!” he ordered.

“YES!” you answered. “Only you! There was and will only be you, Aemond! I am yours – please don’t stop! Don’t stop – I want your seed inside me! I want to carry your child!”

Taking a handful of your (h/c) tresses, Aemond pressed his nose to the crook of your neck. His scent was mixed with you – a harmonious combination of the trees in the Godwoods you took from and dragon smoke locked into his skin. He bit your neck before sucking it enough for it to turn into a lovely purple hue by the coming morning.

You only screamed out for more.

“Come for me, (Y/N). Soak my cock with your nectar so that I can implant my seed into your womb. Our child will hold the powers of my Old Valyria and your Old Gods. Can you see it? Do you want to see our beautiful child?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Using his fingers to pinch your clit, he gave you one final order.

“Then come.”

“AEMOND!”

Intense pleasure flooded your entire body as you screamed out his name, and you entirely gave all of yourself to Aemond. The waves of desire crashed and rocked the boat that held whatever was left of your sanity as your vision flashed white. A dull thudding pounded in your head, and your body continued vibrating as a result of your powerful climax.

Gasping at the feel of the vice grip that your cunt had on his cock, Aemond took all of his previous inhibitions and threw them to the wind. Babbling out his declarations of his love to you, he wildly thrust deeper and deeper into your cervix until the tip of his cock hit the entrance to your womb. And spilled everything inside him into you – holding himself there so that his seed would take.

The world around him disappeared. Everything outside of you and him faded into the background as white noise and the sound of your heavy breaths filled his head. He collapsed on top of you, bringing the sheets and blankets to cover your bodies as sweat sheening on your pair’s skin cooled. Aemond shifted his weight to next to you and took you into his arms.

He was exhausted – both of you were – but a feeling of contentment and serenity filled the room as you basked in the love you showed one another.

“Your mother and grandfather,” you whispered, “they will never accept me. They will never accept our child. Our child will be a bastard – the very thing you hate the most in life.”

“My love,” Aemond tried to alleviate your fears, but you only continued.

“It’s true, my dragon.” Your eyes held your strength but also showed your terror of what was coming. “Do not attempt to play me for a fool. Do not dare disrespect me in such a way.”

The prince knew every word you spoke was the truth. On the brink of war, his happiness mattered little to his mother and grandfather. They would tear his child out of your womb with their own two hands if it meant that his hand was free for political alliances.

All to keep Rhaenyra off the Iron Throne.

But there was a solution. It was one he wished wasn’t the only option left – but it was the only one he saw could work and keep you and his child safe. In a solemn voice, he revealed his plan.

“I could swear to Rhaenyra.”

Not believing the words left from his mouth, your jaw dropped as you openly gaped at your lover. But anger replaced shock only seconds later.

“Aemond, that is not funny.”

“It is no joke, my (Y/N). Listen to me.”

He explained that he and you will travel to Dragonstone by daybreak tomorrow. With Vhagar on the Blacks’ side, the threat of her ancient fire burning everything to mountains of ash would stop the war before it could even begin.

“For compensation, I will only request that you and I be wed in the tradition of both of our ancestors.”

“Yours,” you interjected, “just yours.”

You softly giggled at the befuddlement on his face – the sweetness of the picture was such a stark contrast to the events that just transpired.

“You have stolen my heart so long ago already. And now you have stolen my body. Have I not told you that this is my people’s way of marriage?”

“Of course,” Aemond chuckled, “now all that is left is for us to be wed in the traditions of Old Valyria.”

He leaned in close to press a kiss on your forehead. “I hope you are prepared, little wildling. By the latest, at the end of this week, you will no longer be a free woman – but the wife to a prince and the mother of his children.”

“Our children,” you insisted, “the mother of our children.”

“Yes, dearest. Our children.”

Stories were legends, and legends were lessons that ring with truth.

This was the first lesson your mother shared with you.

You learned every story you told in court from your mother. Your favorite story was about how the Children of the Forest sometimes gave that child a rare gem when a free child survived their tenth winter. But to prove themselves worthy, the children needed to endure many trials and meet many new people.

On your tenth winter, you traveled South to Winterfell with your parents to steal a loaf of bread. Your parents were killed, but alone you remained. You cried and cried until your body no longer had any tears left to cry. You cursed the Children of the Forest. You cursed the Old Gods your parents swore would protect you.

You met a boy with only one working eye during your third and tenth winters. His other had been slashed and taken by his nephew. It was replaced by an orb of the prettiest blue stone you had ever seen.

It was your fourth and tenth winter that you learned that his eye of blue stone had a name, “sapphire.”

You were eight and ten winters when your and your dragon’s hearts beat to the same tune, and your bodies joined together as one.

You were still eight and ten winters when you realized that the Children of the Forest kept their word. They had indeed gifted you a rare gem – they just didn’t tell you that gems could be people.

Aemond was your gem, and you were his.

And Aemond and you raised your 12 kids in Westeros peacefully while Rhaenyra reigned as Queen of the Iron Throne and Daemon and Alicent take turns having sex with her!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics , @dreaming-for-an-escape, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @lady-ashfade, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @immyowndefender, @katzarantos, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @boxedpandas, @lokiofasgard12, @aemondsbabe, @aemondslove, @axelsagewrites

I am so sorry if I forgot to tag you! It's hard to keep track bc I lost the list

I had this cute idea of this happening with Aemond standing on the edge of Vhagar’s nostrils because she’s the best wingman. This isn’t necessarily a specific request but I just like to hear your thoughts about it. 😃

Okay, I love this idea! It’s adorably Aemond in my eyes. Vhagar as his wingman is just as hilarious as it is unbearably cute to have a war dragon of her stature help Aemond get his beloved.

Anyway let’s say Aemond develops a crush on you and he wants to do something that puts him a head above the rest. Unfortunately due to the lack of friends he could ask for secondary opinion from. He goes to dragon grandma Vhagar…or Alicent but mostly Vhagar.

Ngl Vhagar probably forgets most of the conversations they have due to her getting on in age and the fact that in terms of bonds between dragon and their riders, theirs ain’t Caraxes and Daemon level strong. However when she hears this grand idea of his display of love, she’s like ‘I got u tiny human.’

So Aemond would probably send you some cryptic letter saying to look out to the skies that night, which you do albeit a little confused. Only to be greeted by the behemoth Vhagar hovering just in front of your balcony; nearly scaring you shitless whilst Aemond looking all cute and smug from his position on the edge of Vhagar’s nose. Spouting about how beautiful the night is but pales in comparison to you, buttering you up so he can steal a smooch.

Keep Out

Summary: modern!Aemond takes his girlfriend home with him for the semester break over summer. He had already forgotten that he barely got any peace and quiet in his old room.

Wordcount: 1.717

Warnings: tiny smuttish part, but also not really, mentions of an unwanted lap dance, lots and lots of fluff

Present

They heard something rumbling loudly against the door. "Urgh. Fuck. Aemond?" shouted Aegon through the door.

(Y/n) laughed silently and shook an equally smirking Aemond, who was lying on her stomach.

2 months before

Aemond was unusually nervous for his ratio. He had never brought anyone home before. It was unusual. He felt strangely naked, as she paced around his room, looking at the books and posters from his school days.

When a grin appeared on her face, he knew immediately what was coming.

"Aha!" She pulled the CD case from the shelf and held it up triumphantly. "I knew it!",she grinned at him.

He just rolled his eyes and put the My Chemical Romance CD back in its place. "Behave.", was all he said.

Her smile softened. Her arms gently wrapped around his neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

"Close the door! Would you?", they heard someone laugh. None other than Aegon stood in the doorway and grinned at them both. "We don't want mummy to think you're promiscuous."

"Wow. That was a difficult word for you.", Aemond replied in a calm voice, but (Y/n) could see the tension in his jaw.

"At least I'm not a twenty-year-old virgin.", Aegon rolled his eyes and walked away again.

(Y/n) scratched his neck reassuringly. "So this is Aegon?"

He grumbled in agreement, annoyed.

"You exaggerated a bit with his hair. I was almost expecting a half bald head.", she turned his mind to another topic, knowing full well that he was largely uncomfortable with the subject of sex.

"You didn't see him after rehab. He was close."

She laughed lightly.

He lay relaxed on the bed. (Y/n) half beneath him. His head lay on her chest and he savoured the delicate fingers, as they ran over his scalp and through his long strands.

Sleeptoken was playing softly in the background, but he focussed more on her heartbeat, which he could now hear so clearly.

His eyes had fallen shut at the caresses, his breathing was calm and deep.

Everything was beautiful. Everything was good. Everything-

"Aemond we - Oh sorry."

Both their gazes shot in the direction of the roughly flung open door. His mum stood in the doorway, a little embarrassed. "We'll order something from the Italian. Please come downstairs... And put a shirt on Aemond!"

He dropped his face into the crook of her neck and groaned in annoyance. "I should have taken a hotel.", he grumbled.

She kissed his temple. "Just locking up is cheaper, I think."

"We don't have to.", she explained quietly.

Aemond shook his head. "I want to try it.", he admitted, still looking nervous. "But only on you for now.", he confessed quickly.

She stroked his hair. "Okay."

"You sure?"

She nodded with a smile.

Aemond cleared his throat. He had come a long way since he was a boy and a teenager, but the memory of that night was still so present.

Aegon had dragged him along to his birthday. He doesn't know what he'd expected, but it hadn't been a stripper.

He and his friends had cheered her on as she danced on Aemonds lap. He had never felt so overwhelmed und uncomfortable. The fact that he had come in his pants less than two minutes later had, of course, taken the mockery to the extreme.

They had bawled and Aemond had simply run away until he could lock himself in the bathroom, where he washed himself three times in a row in an attempt to wash off the shame.

"Hey." He felt her hand on his cheek. He pulled himself from his memory. "It's just me here. No one else." She smiled so warmly at him again. And she was right. The rest of his family was gone tonight, except for Haelena. But she rarely left her bugs voluntarily anyway.

He nodded, but still buried his face briefly on her shoulder. "Can I?," he asked, stroking her waistband with his fingers.

She nodded with a smile.

He carefully slipped his hand under the elasticated fabric and immediately came across the top of her panties. He looked at her questioningly again. She simply nodded. His fingers travelled deeper. He felt light stubble and took in the slightly scratchy feeling beneath his fingertips. He drew a few exploratory circles.

"Does that bother you?", she asked a little hesitantly, but he immediately shook his head.

"Not at all."

He let his fingers wander deeper until he felt what he was looking for. He groped around a little awkwardly and blindly. Searching for what he had already read about. She tenderly pushed her hand towards his. Grasped his fingers and brought them into position. She calmly showed him how to move them. He followed her with concentration.

She sighed slightly and withdrew her hand again. He tried himself out. Experimented. Memorised what caused which reaction.

And he realised, that this was okay. It was even kind of nice. It was-

The door to his room opened again. Helaena poked her head into the room. She didn't pay any attention to the situation of the two of them, frantically trying to present themselves in a more socially acceptable manner.

"Helaena!", shouted Aemond reprovingly.

She looked absolutely neutral in return. "Have you seen my Tarantula? She's run off."

"Your what?", asked (Y/n) immediately in alarm.

"My Tarantula. She-"

"Rethorical question.", explained Aemond immediately. "And no."

"Okay."

The door closed again.

"Please tell me that Tarantula is the name of your cat."

"Don't worry about it. The creature is ancient. It probably just turned to dust."

"Found her!", Heelena shouted from the corridor.

"Great.", Aemond called back, only slightly annoyed.

(Y/n) was still sitting tensely on his bed. "What do you say we-"

"Chinese or Thai?" he asked.

"Chinese."

"I'll just wash my hands and get the car.", he explained and stood up humbly. Would he ever have a quiet evening in this house?

"I love you.", she called after him tensely.

"Love you too.", he called back with a sigh. 

They made out violently. She was sitting on his old desk and had her legs wrapped around his hips like a snake.

His centre kept twitching slightly forward. His family was gone, even his sister, and the damn door was locked.

Aemond pressed himself against her even more than he already did. His hands wandered under her top. His lips broke away from hers and travelled to her neck. He was ready. He was sure. He felt comfortable with her. He wanted this.

"To bed?", he asked, slightly out of breath.

She nodded eagerly. "Please.", she sighed. He lifted her from the table and carried her towards the bed. She took off her own top and threw it somewhere. He did the same.

She was already sitting down on the mattress and pushed herself into the middle of it, when Aemond tried to get out of his trousers.

He lay down on top of her. Their lips met. He sighed, when he felt her hands on his bare back.

He was just sliding his hands into the waistband of her trousers when he heard the click of the lock. He frantically threw half of the blanket over (Y/n) to cover her body as his grandfather stood in the doorway.

He looked at them both in astonishment.

"Excuse me.", he nodded briefly to (Y/n). "Otto Hightower. The grandfather." He introduced himself impassively.

"Hello." (Y/n) waved back, overwhelmed.

"You still have my encyclopaedia.", he explained, turning to Aemond.

He looked at him perplexed. "Couldn't you have just called me?"

Otto just raised an eyebrow. "The book, Aemond.", he demanded.

Aemond stood up angrily, took the book from the shelf and pressed it into his grandfather's hand.

"Could we have some privacy now, please?"

Otto just waved him off. "But don't get her pregnant. We don't need any more complaints like your brother's."

He didn't even look at them again. He simply left the house.

Aemond breathed in and out in a controlled manner.

He turned round with a jerk and pulled his trousers back on.

"Aemond, it's all-"

"Get dressed. We're driving."

"Driving? Where?"

"To a hotel.", he explained curtly and held out her top.

(Y/n) looked at him in surprise. "So we're not stopping?", she asked, half teasingly, half cheerfully.

Aemond looked at her insistently. "Not if you don't want to."

She smiled. "Let's go then."

The night was mild. Mild enough that they didn't try to put as much distance between them as possible. Just touching fingers or knuckles.

No. Aemond had snuggled up to her chest and (Y/n) held him in a relaxed grip.

They both lingered in the land of dreams, knowing that the door was locked and the key was still in it.

They had had their peace and quiet all evening. No one had gotten on their nerves. Aemond had snuggled up to her as he usually only did in his own flat. A place where no one could go without his permission. The key in the lock wasn't the highend security system in his flat, but it reassured him enough.

Even in his dreams, he still had the feeling that he had finally triumphed when he was suddenly and rudely torn from this world.

A loud, breaking sound rang out. The sound crashed into the room like a bang.

And with the noise, Aegon smashed in too.

"Oaaa! Fuck!", he exclaimed, annoyed, then he laughed clearly drunk.

Aemond and (Y/n) immediately sat upright in bed. (Y/n) looked perplexed at Aegon.

Aemond looked at the hole in the wall that had once been his door, now lying as splinters of wood on the floor.

"I didn't get the curve.", Aegon laughed, still on the floor. "Sorry little brother."

Present

"Stable.", (Y/n) stated, when she had her laughter under control again.

"Steel core with a security lock. Standard for banks.", explained Aemond relaxed.

He firmly grabbed her hand, which she had withdrawn during her fit of laughter, and put it back on his head.

"Don't stop.", he just sighed and closed his eye again. A slight smile played around his lips.

She kissed the top of his head with a smile and complied.

we're all just High Valayrian hoes now

The Midnight Relief - Part 4 (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) NSFW

Summary: Your relationship with Prince Aemond has changed, so much that you tend to forget not only who you are but who he truly is.

Tags: SMUT, Porn with Plot (sort of), Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Fingering, Squirting, Breeding kink, Dubious Consent, Targcest (Reader is Daemon Targaryen’s bastard), Angst and Fluff.

Author’s note: I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting. I have been very busy with work lately so I couldn’t find time to focus on writing this story. I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter nevertheless. Next chapter will probably be the last one. Tell me how you imagine the end of this fan fiction. And please do not hesitate to like or reblog this chapter (it is the best reward for any writer)

         Your eyes opened slowly at dawn, woken up by the first rays that shone through the large lancet windows. They did not dazzle you – they were too orange and dim for that - but you blinked a few times with a smile upon your face, not because of the light but to make sure the blurry pale silhouette that was slowly taking shape before your sleepy and lidded eyes would not disappear as quick as dew in the morning sun. Aemond looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was as if the ferocious aura he carried within him all day long disappeared during the night to allow him a short moment of serenity. Seeing him like this was surprising and unexpected. You always thought he would be the kind of man to sleep with a frown and with his fists clenched … and possibly a dagger underneath his pillow.       You chuckled silently at this idea, finding it more amusing than formidable and you wrapped your naked body in the soft sheet with a happy grin on your face to enjoy the view and the comfort of Aemond’s bed a little longer. You had never slept in a bed like this one. All you knew were poor thin mattresses on the floor and scratchy patched blankets that couldn’t keep you warm at night. But you definitely could get used it: the mattress as soft as a pile of delicate feathers, the fine cotton sheets so pleasant to the skin and the naked handsome prince sleeping by your side. They could almost make you believe you belonged here and not in a humid crowded dorm. If only the whole world was just this bed. Life would be so much easier.

You didn’t know how long you gazed at Aemond, your fingertips connecting the few moles on his milky chest by tracing invisible lines like an astronomer would draw constellations, but when you began to hear the growing hubbub in the corridors outside the prince’s room, you thought it might be time for you to leave your waking dream.         You instinctively pecked Aemond’s shoulder and reluctantly abandoned the warm sheets to get out of the bed and go back to your harsh reality. But before you could put a toe on the stone floor, a sleepy raspy voice stopped you.     “May I ask where you’re going? I did not dismiss you and I certainly did not order you to stop what you were doing.”       You glanced briefly over your shoulder and beamed away from Aemond’s sight, amused by the domesticity that warmed your heart.   

Keep reading

My precious boy

{Aemond learns to love his son the hard way}

You can read part 1 here!💕

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They say you don’t truly love something until it’s gone, until the thought of never seeing them again is suddenly a possibility, Aemond woke up to an empty bed, and his heart dropped when you came bursting into your shared bedchambers.

The first thing he noticed was the tears that poured from your pained eyes, how shaken you were, and his mind spiralled with horrid thoughts as he immediately made his way towards you, taking your shaky body in his arms.

“What is it?— my love what happened?” He asks, as you gasp through sobs, you couldn’t speak, the words catching in your throat.

You shook your head frantically, hands grasping at your chest as you heave, “Aenys- my boy” you choke, a blocky feeling stifling your breaths as your trembling hands grasp at Aemonds shoulders.

His chest tightens at your broken sentence, and he wants to scream and demand answers but he sees the fear that swims within your eyes, so he takes a deep breath, “What happened?” He asks, his thumb wiping away your stray tears.

“He— he’s gone! He’s gone! I can’t find him Aemond— I can’t find him” You feel your knees buck underneath the weight of the situation, as your hands grasp around his arms trying to stabilise yourself.

He looks around at the room full of guards as he guides you to your shared bed, sitting you down before demanding they prepare for a search, he tells them no one is to eat unless his Son is found and they’re quick to leave the room, each one of them getting ready to look for the missing prince.

The sun is barely rising and already the entirety of the castle is awake, most were woken by your gut-wrenching screams and they’re quick to rush to see what the problem is.

“I will find him. If I have to burn Westeros to the ground I will find him” he tells you, although you can’t really comprehend his words, your mind fuzzy with panic, he can see the despair that hangs around you and it makes him feel hopeless.

Alicent walks into your bedchambers a hand against her chest, news travels fast in the castle, and by the look in her eyes you could tell she already knows what has happened, “My dear, we will find him” she says, hand on yours as you nod weakly.

She watches as her son frantically paces the expanse of the room, taking his sword with his brows knitted together in anger, Alicent walks over to him with a delicate hand on his shoulder, “Aemond, she needs you- stay with her” she says, and he can’t bare to look at your distressed eyes the fear that contorts your face, it hurts him too much.

“I can’t mother- she—“ he trails off, they both look over at you as you rock yourself gently, “I’m going to find him,” he says, with so much determination it leaves little room to doubt his words.

Hours upon hours have passed since this morning, and you haven’t eaten, the thought of it makes you feel queasy and your tears have subsided far too exhausted to bring yourself to cry anymore.

You walk around Aenys’ room, as you look at all of his paintings and books, and your heart shatters at the thought of never seeing him again, you’re so wrapped up with your own thoughts you don’t see your husband walk into the room.

It’s quiet in the room, a lot quieter than you’re used to, you look over at Aemond and you can see the tears that well up in his eye, “Have you eaten?” He asks, voice quiet and broken, he frowns as you shake your head with a small ‘no’, the sun is beginning to set.

“I can’t Aemond— I can’t- Please find my son” you sigh, gently holding one of his paintings, it’s of you and him, and you feel like you can’t breathe, Aemond looks down at the artwork, it’s breathtaking, and he can’t quite believe his boy, of seven, made that.

An overwhelming feeling of regret crashes against him, and he bends down to level with where you’re sitting, “I’m going to find him, my love, I promise you— I will find our son” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your hand reaches for his,

“He’s just a boy Aemond, he's so small he can’t protect himself— what if-“ He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, he can't even bare the thought.

“-Don’t, he’s smart,” he says, and your eyes look at his watching as he stands up, “Everyone is looking, my love and we won’t stop until he is found” he promises and you watch as he leaves the room with a solemn heart.

You spend the rest of the day beside Alicent as she tries her best to comfort you, her hand soothing your back as you both wait and wait for any news, the sun has set as you lose hope, and your mind hasn’t stopped reeling with horrifying thoughts.

Alicent asks for some food to be delivered to the room and you’re about to reject the offer yet again but Aemond comes rushing into the room, demanding for Maesters with Aenys in his arms, and you choke at the sight, gasping as you scramble to sit by your sons side as Aemond lays him on your bed.

“What happened?— Where was he? Is he going to be okay?” You panic watching as the Maesters quickly get to work.

“He was in the Dragon pit” Aemond sighs, catching his breath as he sits down beside you, his hand holding Aenys’ small one, as your fingers brush through his hair, you lean to press a kiss to his forehead focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest, and you cling onto the small amount of hope you have.

The moon hangs high casting its ominous light upon your shared bedchambers, and you watch Aemond light candles around the room as you still sit next to your youngest son.

“Rhaegar, pass me the cloth please my dear,” you ask watching as your oldest son of ten, as he wrings the cold water from the washcloth before handing it to you and you thank him softly before placing it on Aenys’ forehead.

“Will he be okay, Mother?” He whispers, looking down at his brother with saddened eyes and the sight makes Aemonds’ throat close up.

He walks over to you, looking down at his youngest son, “Yes, of course, he will, the blood of the dragon runs within him” he says, looking over at your exhausted face and it pains him deeply to see.

You nod with agreement, “He will be fine” you say, squeezing your husband's hand gently. He looks up at you with a gentle smile.

“Brella, get Rhaegar ready for bed and make sure he has eaten,” Aemond says, watching as the Maesters walk back into the room, and she nods curtly guiding him out the room after you kiss his cheek wishing him goodnight.

“Hold this under his nose, it should wake him,” Maester Orwyle says, gently handing you a small cup of crushed herbs the scent itches at the back of your throat, a second goes by and you watch, worry etched into your face, as your son stirs from his sleep, rubbing at his eyes.

And you sigh in relief as his eyes flutter open, gasping as you take your son in your arms crying with joy as you rock him gently, “Aenys, my precious boy, oh— my sweet sweet boy” you gasp, you pull away hands clasping either side of his face.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask, studying his face, and he nods, mumbling about how his head is hurting just a little.

Aemond tells Maester Orwyle and he’s quick to prepare some tea. Your husband shuffles to sit next to you bringing you both into his arms, his head resting against Aenys’ and he’s never felt so thankful in his life, his boy is okay.

Aemond smiles as his son snuggles closer to you both, his tiny arms trying their best to wrap around you both, and you laugh at his attempt.

You pull away slightly, “I’ll get you some tea for your head,” you say smoothing down his hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

You thank the Maesters' watching as they take their leave before walking over to the table and preparing the herbs for the tea, you feel Aemonds arms wrap around your waist as you turn to face him.

“Here let me do this, my love, you go eat something,” he says quietly, he can tell how tired you are, how exhaustion lingers in your eyes, and the last thing he wants is you burning yourself.

You nod, your thumb grazing over his cheek, “Thank you Aemond, thank you so much” you whisper leaning to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he rests his forehead against yours, and you both go quiet. You hear small giggles as you look over back at the bed, and you both smile at the sight of your son, book in lap as he reads away.

Aemond smiles at the familiar cover, it’s one of his personal favourites, and he comes to slowly realise that perhaps there is more to bond over his son with and he makes a silent vow to you and Aenys to do better by you both.

That night the castle rested calmly knowing the missing prince was found, and you and Aemond both slept very happily with your son between you both, snuggled and safe.

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Could you write a fic where Aemond dramatically catches his crush after she falls?

Knight In Shining Armour | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Helaena x Platonic!Reader, Aemond x Reader

Summary: Aemond plays the knight in shining Armour.

Warnings: None I think?

Walking with Helaena mindlessly was one of your favourite pastimes. Talking about the bugs she'd acquired recently, how Aegon had been a dick to her, she was fun to talk to.

Walking around the gardens, unaware of the tall, one-eyed, silver-haired man who followed your every move. He justified it to himself as he was there for protection, but in reality, he had a huge crush on you.

"I think Aemond has a slight crush on you," Helaena giggles and you smile fondly. "I dont believe that to be true, hes way above my station." You politely reply, looking down bashfully.

God, he adored your shy personality.

You and Helaena continued chatting about everything and nothing at the same time, making your way into the keep as you do. You were soon to prepare for the feast tonight.

Walking up the stairs with Helaena, your mind fumbles up the placing of the stairs, causing you to be short on your step. You go tumbling backwards, and Aemond essentially runs from his place, catching you softly in his strong arms. You gasp, but your heart beats faster and your cheeks flush upon noticing who caught you.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Aemond asks worriedly, his hand going to your cheek as he stands you upright.

"My knight in shining armour," You jest with a vibrant grin. "I am fine, you caught me before any real damage." You assure him.

"Thankfully," Aemond says, his smile warm, and eyes friendly. "Does your Knight in shining armour get a dance at the feast tonight?" Aemond asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

"That's the least I can do," You grin, your belly full of butterflies.

Aemonds mentally doing a happy dance as he takes your hand, kissing it gently and excusing himself, strolling away.

You look to Helaena, who is looking at you with an I told you so look in her eyes, and you shake your head and laugh, walking back up with her.

Please could I request aegon and aemond both falling in love with their childhood friend who’s a princess and has her own dragon 💙💙

That Girl || Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader Pairing: Romantic!Aegon x reader, Romantic!Aemond x reader Warnings: comments on the body, perv Aegon as always A/N: sorry this is so short, i'm unmotivated, but would this be good as a series? You had grown up alongside Aemond and Aegon, being the twin sister to Jacaerys. Though you never let that stop you from being there for Aemond and Aegon, you spent most of your time with them. So when you arrived at Kingslanding on dragonback alongside your family, you bounded towards the two boys, who gladly accepted your clumsy embraces. "Gods I've missed you two," You mumble, completely forgetting to inform them that you had claimed Seasmoke, the pale dragon perched behind you. Aemond seems to be the only one who cares, looking back at the dragon hesitantly. "Looks like you've grown considerably," Aegon says with a grin that made Aemond jab him with his elbow, though Aemond couldn't deny that you had grown into your body, thats for sure.

You held yourself in a certain manner now, one that shows you had grown. You walked away and greeted Helaena, and Aegon whispers to his brother, "May the best man win," Aegon smirks, and Aemond lets a small smile come onto his face, "Trust me, I will." He replies snarkily, and offers to walk with you in the gardens.

Can you write Aegon (or Aemond, I can't decide) x reader and one bed trope? 😊😊

One Bed? | Aegon & Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Only one bed, whatever will the three of you do?

Warnings: Smut, PIV sex, Aegon is a perv, Aemonds a subtle perv

A/N: I’m back, random little burst of inspiration came over me

You had no clue how you ended up here. Venturing through the streets with your two best friends, Aegon and Aemond. It was night, yet you hadnt found what you were looking for.

Checking into a Tavern for the night, you found yourself at the door of the only available room. Yet the owner neglected to mention the lack of beds, except for one double bed.

Aegon smirked, "Looks like you've got to sleep with me, sweetheart." He grins, and you make a fake gag.

"Aemonds here too, y'know." You reply snarkily, and Aegon grins further.

"He can sleep on the floor.” Aegon chuckles, and Aemond looks at him,

“If anyone’s sleeping on the floor it’s you.” Aemond snaps in return, causing Aegon to sneer at him.

“We can all fit, I can squish.” Aleria says, discarding herself of her shoes, and dress, to which she swapped into a night dress behind a curtain for changing.

Aegon and Aemond gape at the slight shadow of your nude body, and Aegon let’s put a quiet whistle, Aemond hitting him with his elbow.

The two follow suit, getting into their nightclothes, Aemond offering you his coat to sleep in due to the cold weather.

You gladly accepted it, and the three of you managed to just fit in the bed.

The two boys were squished up against you, not that you could deny the way that made you feel.

Throughout the night, it got harder to ignore the lingering touches on your body when you’d shift positions, Aemonds hand on your inner thigh and Aegons arm under your neck.

Aegon let his hot breath hit your neck, and you shivered, much to the two brothers amusement. You were in Aemonds coat, there was no way you were cold.

Aemonds slender hand traced shapes on your inner thigh, and Aegon began pressing kisses to your neck.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Your heart was racing, and finally, Aegon broke the silence.

“Touch her, brother.” Aegons voice comes out, “She wants it, don’t you, little one?” Aegons voice was low, deep with lust and desire.

“I.. I do.” You whispered, and Aemond wasted no time in sitting up, forcefully parting your legs to which you moan.

Aegon chuckles, standing from the bed to give them more space, Aemond then lifted the night gown, and you wriggled out of your underwear to help him.

“Do you think our sweet girl can take a finger?” Aemond asks Aegon, and Aegon shrugs.

“Let’s find out.” Aegon suggests, and you nod. Aemonds finger goes expertly to rub at your clit, and your hips jolt up into his finger.

“So pathetic,” Aemond tsks, and you whine, he attacks his nub with his tongue, and your hands go to his silver hair, gripping it with force.

Aegon hums in pleasure, and you notice he’s stroking himself. You let out a deep breath at the sight, and he moves closer, stroking your hair to prepare you as Aemond sticks a finger in.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, and Aegon shushes you.

“My love, as much as I’d love to hear you scream, we can do that later.” Aegon speaks gently, and you nod. Aegon kisses you to muffle your noises.

Your thighs wrap around Aemonds neck as his finger rubs the rough patch in your cunt, your spot. He has you mewling into Aegons mouth, a submissive mess.

Aemond pulls away and so does Aegon, you cry out in disappointment.

Aemond pulls out his cock, it’s fully hard, and it’s long, dripping with precum, his tip is a light purple from arousal, veins look to be pulsing.

“This is gonna hurt,” Aemond speaks, and you nod.

“I can handle it.” You speak confidently.

“Good girl” Aemonds tantalising voice came as he slowly inched into you. The feeling was painful, it was a burning sensation as you were stretched, and you grit your teeth as he rested.

“Taking him so good,” Aegon speaks, still stroking his thick cock, angled over your chest.

The pain subsides after a few moments, and you’re consumed by your desire.

“Move, please Aem.” You beg, and he does that, erratically thrusting into you at an upward angle, his cock grazing your spot in a mind numbing sensation.

Your moans are muffled by your hand, and Aegon places your other around his cock, and you learn from him, gripping it as he wished and stroking, learning from what he was doing earlier, and his reactions.

Your pussy was throbbing, and cheeks flushed, Aemond angled your legs over his shoulders, and the assault on your pussy made you insatiable, bucking against him.

“ ‘M close!” You squeak, and Aemonds quick to speed up.

“You’re so tight around me,” He grunts, and you let out a long, erotic moan as your release comes closer.

All it takes is one extra hard thrust from Aemond for your eyes to be rolling back, walls clenching around him and a deep moan coming from your chest.

Aegon moaned along with you, the sight of you cumming was too much, and his seed was spilled all over your chest,

Aemond, however, emptied his seed inside you, placing your legs down and letting out a loud groan as he leaned over your body, a few weak thrusts as he pulled out.

“How was that, little one?” Aemond asks as he strokes your hair, and you smile.

“Too good,” You shakily say, your legs twitching from your orgasm.

Aegon, being the degenerate he is, uses your nightgown to clean the cum from your chest and you gasp,

“Aeg! I was going to sleep in that.” You pout, and Aemond looks at him, humour and confusion in his eyes.

“You can sleep naked, you can’t be shy now.” Aegon speaks with humour and you groan.

The two boys crawled into bed, both sticking to your side. They pulled the blanket over all of you and Aegon fell asleep with his head in the crook of your neck, and Aemond fell asleep with his arm around your stomach, holding you close.

Lonesome Town || Aemond Targaryen

summary : aemond mourns his queen.

pairing: fem!reader x aemond

warnings : sad. just sad. i love my babygirl

Aemond sits in the corner of your shared chambers, watching as you cradle your daughter. The one you’d fought to have, you’d fought to keep.

The love and adoration in your eyes when they’d met his, fizzled out as fast as it came. Your little girl, the only thing keeping you from leaving.

Aemond looks at you, and he wishes he could sweep you into his arms, and make the love return. No one knew what happened.

Not even the two of you knew what the breaking point was. All everyone knew, is one day, you sat by his side, but you were only there physically.

Though the two of you were as far apart mentally as you’d ever been. Pity from all sides, as they looked at what once was remarked to be a powerful union. One of both politics and love.

Until you’d birthed your daughter, and the maesters informed Aemond that you wouldn’t be able to give birth again.

It took too much of a toll on you physically, and mentally. You had recovered alone, much to Aemonds protests.

You were not able to bare him a boy, and for that, you did not deserve his help.

Aemond looks back to you cradling his child, and a soft feeling overcomes him. Memories of the beginnings, before the war. When everything was better.

You braiding Aemonds hair, preparing him for the day with a smile of such kindness he had never felt before.

The secret meetings before you were wed, where you would talk about anything and everything there was to chat about. Oh how you’d made him quite the fan of courtly gossip.

The strolls through the gardens, where he’d pick a flower to put behind your ear, and you’d pick one to tuck in his belt.

When he’d showed you his sapphire eye, and you’d only kissed him, and exclaimed excitedly over the gem, gushing over its his beauty.

And now, here the two of you were. With a little girl that you cherished, but the air between you felt cold.

A maid took your little one to bed, leaving you and Aemond in an uncomfortable silence. You looked from the floor, to your husband.

Your heart plummeting out of your chest, as his gaze diverted to the fire, you didn’t know how to rectify this with words.

So as he stood to depart from the room, you stood also, shaking your head as tears filled your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall.

Aemond looked at you, and couldn’t utter a word before you had pushed yourself into his arms, your smaller ones going around his waist tightly, head tucked into his chest.

“Stay, please.” You spoke meekly, mumbled by the leathers on his clothes. But he knew you too well, he understood.

Aemond came to a similar conclusion. Words were not needed here, only actions would suffice. So his calloused hand took your soft one, he gently laid you into the plush furs, stripping to only his breeches and crawling into bed beside you.

He moved your head to his chest, and the two of you slept in an embrace, you had missed far too much.

Neither of you knew what was going to come, if this could be fixed. But you knew, it was enough for the night.

For you are his flower, and him your jewel.

sweet thing | aemond targaryen

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: sex club au, vulgar language, no slur yet;)

A/N: should be a series. i need requests guys, ask box got randomly cleared :)

When you first started working at the exclusive sex club, the Red Keep, you did it because you needed the money. But over time, you found yourself enjoying the job. Pretty outfits and drinks paid for, you were pretty much a sugar baby.

It was extremely hard to get into, only people of status were allowed in. You had seen many a famous people, important political figures, and most if not all of them have thrown bills at your feet.

You found it empowering. You were a dancer there, only limited touches allowed when it came to you. Nothing too explicit, being as you weren’t one of your more physically involved co workers.

Your division was to put on a show, draw the men in. And that you did,

The neon lights shined over your figure, illuminating you in a purpley pink colour. You found that cliche, and a bit annoying when it came to dancing.

Dressed in a black babydoll tonight, you worked the pole elegantly, as if it was an extension of you. Your eyes fluttered to the crowd, seeing a few of your regulars. You smiled at them, most of them were kind men.

Your eyes met a familiar person to you, someone you’d seen on the news, and in cheesy tabloid articles.

Aemond Fucking Targaryen.

He certainly held an aura of importance, that almost made you stutter on one of your moves. You regained composure, and continued focusing on your dance. Luckily enough, the song was coming to an end.

Your body seductively became one with the pole, intertwining with it smoothly. The song came to an end and you let go of the pole, doing an exaggerated bow to the crowd, showing your cleavage. It was your little signature, something you did at the end of every dance.

A bouncer walked you off the stage, and you decided to mingle. You felt eyes on you, and you shook off the feeling. You’re a stripper, people are going to look at you.

A regular paid for a lap dance from you, to which you happily abided.

“Hey Jason, how’s it going love?” You spoke fondly, and he rambled about his day to which you’d add in a little comment here and there as you straddled him and swung your hips.

Jason was a tad bit obnoxious, always loved to talk about himself. You didn’t mind that, he could be a lot worse.

You moved seductively, making sure your boobs were bouncing and ass looked perfect. You made sure he was getting a good view of you as you danced, and then you felt it again.

The eyes on you. You looked around, trying to find the source of them. But your attention was torn away as Jason’s hands landed on your hips and began gliding up your sides. You move them back down to your hips, but he doesn’t give up, attempting to move them back to your top half.

“Jason, you know you’re not allowed to touch.” You say sternly, and he shakes his head. “With what I pay for you, I can do what I want.” He says, and your mouth drops. He had never treated you like that, nor had he spoke of you like some object.

His hands harshly grabbed at your breasts and you winced, pushing away from him and getting a distance away.

“Jason, do you think your wife would be appreciative to learn that you’re here, manhandling a woman?” A deep voice spoke from beside you, and you jumped.

You turned your head as fast as light, and saw him. Aemond Targaryen, standing next to you, threatening the man who groped you. Jason gulped, obviously drunken.

“Aemond, we were just having a little bit of fun.” Jason’s shaky voice came out, and you looked over the club and did a come hither motion to a bouncer, who immediately comes to your side, escorting Jason out, no questions asked.

Aemond turns to you, eyes flittering over your figure, and settling at your eyes.

“Jason frequently has issues such as that in establishments like these.” His voice comes out painfully neutral, and you think about how his phrasing meant he also frequents places like these.

“Well then, nice to meet you.” You stutter, putting your hand out for him to grab. His hand is large in comparison to yours as it wraps around it.

“It’s nice to meet you aswell.” Aemond begins, taking a breath and letting go of your hand. You look up at him with curious eyes that affect him more than he is willing to admit.

“What services do you offer?” He asks, and you smile. “I offer lap dances, private dances, in a room where you can be more physical with me.” You speak softly, and lean to whisper.

“I also am a sugar baby, though that is not connected to this establishment.” Your voice comes out a shaky whisper, and Aemond nods.

That’s exactly what he needed to hear.

“I’ll pay for a private room with you, so we can discuss what we can do for eachother, hmm?” Aemond says, already flipping open his leather wallet. His domineering aura made you feel as if you had no control, and that feeling made your pussy wetter than it should’ve.

He hands you the bills, plus a rather large tip which you widen your eyes at the sight of. You nod and make an effort to appear unphased. “Follow me then,”

You take Aemond to a free room, which had bright red LED lights. You sit on the couch, and he does the same.

“What services would you like me to provide?” You ask sweetly, trailing the rough leather couch with your finger to ease your nerves.

“I’d like you to be my sugar baby. I’ll provide you with anything you should need, and you’ll be my arm candy for events.” Aemond speaks bluntly, and you gulp. You’d been a sugar baby before, but not for someone of his stature.

Managing to build the courage to reply, you say “I’d be delighted, sir.”

“Call me Aemond, sweet thing.” he replies, stretching his arms out on the backrest of the couch.