#aemond “work song” targaryen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aemondsbabe · 6 months

Text

Little Love

summary: aegon comes to your chambers crying and needing comfort, but what happens when your husband walks in?

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader x aegon ii targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, mommy kink!! i cannot stress that enough!! astronomical amounts of titty suckin', nipple/breast play, oral (f receiving), handjob, fingering, piv, angst but happy ending, hand on throat but no choking, subby aegon, breeding kink, creampie, consensual threeway relationship, let me know if i missed any!

word count: 6k oops

a/n: header image is for aesthetics only & is not used to describe the reader! a huge huge thanks to my honorary wife & this fics adoptive mother @toms-cherry-trees 🩵 thank you for all your help with this one!!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Aww,” you coo softly, eyes filled with adoration as you study the man on your lap, “Are you mommy’s precious little baby? Hm?” You brush a silvery lock of hair off of his face, trailing your thumb over the light flush across his cheeks as your other hand rubs soothingly over one of his biceps.

Aegon hummed and nodded as best he could around your pert nipple, bright eyes lazily blinking up at you. One of your thumbs gently sweeps away tears from the corners of his eyes while you gently rock him as best you can, gazing at him with a smile. You stay quiet for a while, taking pleasure in the way he clings to you so needily, the way he’s looking at you as if you hung the stars in the sky.

You can’t help the sigh that leaves your lips at the feel of his warm mouth around your nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing at the sensitive skin as he carefully suckles it in his mouth. “Shh,” you whisper, calming Aegon when you see another wave of tears threatening to spill from his violet eyes, “I promise there is nothing to worry yourself over, my little prince,” you tell him softly, trying to squeeze him somehow closer to you, “Just rumors, nothing more.”

You couldn’t help but feel protective of Aegon, your heart twisting as you remember the state he was in at the beginning of the evening when he had first loudly burst into your chamber.

The fire in the hearth warmed your skin as you sat on the sofa in the small sitting area of yours and Aemond’s chambers, easily guiding the needle through the fabric of your embroidery as you hummed a song. With a sigh, you held the hoop up and tilted your head as you examined your work, nearly dropping it when you jumped at the sound of the heavy doors of your chambers crashing open.

You jumped up, whirling around to see who could’ve possibly been disturbing you in such a manner, already glaring before you’d even turned your head. Your narrowed eyes widened however when you saw Aegon striding toward you, a pained look on his face.

“Is it true?” He had questioned, coming to a stop a little ways away from you, voice shaking even through the angry tone of his voice.

“Is what true?” Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as you clasped your hands in front of you.

His frown had faltered for a second, eyes already sparkling with tears as his hands clenched at his sides. “The whispers in court,” he explained, gaze flitting from you to the stone floor, “The rumors about – about you and my brother.”

Shaking your head, you had carefully walked toward him, “My love, I am sure they are untrue,” your voice had been gentle, “I cannot even imagine what they would be ab—“

“That you’re pregnant!” His voice was thick with unshed tears as he spit out the words, “That you must be!” This had left you dumbfounded, unable to do anything but gawk at him, which had only served to upset him further. He had sighed heavily and fixed you with a tearful gaze, bottom lip quivering, “So it’s true?”

“No!” You rushed out, emphatically shaking your head as you hurried to him. “My love, my sweet baby,” your fingers carded through his hair when you reached him. You had gently pulled his gaze to yours before you had cupped his cheeks, your fingers already damp from the tears streaking them, “That is nothing more than court gossip, I promise you. I swear upon the Mother, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

The dam had finally broken as he hiccuped out a sob, his shoulders sagging. “D-Do you mean it?” He’d asked meekly, voice so small you had felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest.

“Oh,” you had taken his hands in yours and led him to your bed, sitting him down at the edge as his body started shaking with sobs. Sitting next to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, gently cupping the back of his head as he slumped against you and rested a wet cheek against your chest. “My little prince, I swear to you I do,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, rocking the two of you together, “You know Aemond and I would not do that to you.”

His fingers had clung to your sides as he sobbed, hands bunching in the fabric of your gown. “They’re saying it’s been long enough,” he’d said mournfully, “Th-That it’s been three moons since the w-wedding and y-you must be by now.”

You’d stroked his hair comfortingly and rested your chin on the top of his head, feeling his hot tears trail down your cleavage, “You know your brother and I would speak with you first, my love. We would not leave you out, you know how this arrangement works.”

The only answer you got was a small sniffle, his shoulders still trembling, although not nearly as badly. You had let him calm down for a moment more, rocking him against you while you hummed his favorite song.

Eventually, he had calmed down, his shoulders steadying and his breath evening out. You had almost assumed he was asleep before you heard him whimper against your collarbone, pink lips mouthing needily at your skin. Your lips had quirked up in a smile as you had gently pulled him up, his small whine making you chuckle as you looked into his eyes.

“Do you need some time with mommy, my little love?”

Which is how you found yourself in your current position – reclined on the plush pillows of your bed with Aegon’s head in your lap, his lips eagerly suckling at your breast, not getting any real milk but the action calmed him still. You shiver slightly in the cool breeze that wafts in from the balcony, the air growing colder now that the sun has set.

Aegon sighs contentedly, his warm breath fanning across your chest as small whimpers and whines slip past his lips. The small noises make you chuckle as you run a hand over his bare chest, “You’re my favorite little prince, do you know that?” You whisper, softly tickling his side enough to make him giggle and squirm. He smiles around your breast and nods happily, his nose digging into the fat of your breast as he presses himself more firmly against you.

You stiffen a little at the sound of your chamber door opening once again, unable to see the entryway from the decorative screen you and your husband had placed in front of the bed. You make no move to disturb Aegon, though – bless the poor maids but there is not much they haven’t seen already. It is not a maid, however, that rounds the corner and you are instead met with the wide, surprised eye of your husband.

After a second, the shock melts off of his face and he smirks at the sight of the two of you, his older brother still suckling away at your breast as if nothing were amiss. “My, my,” he tuts, stalking across the room to deposit the stack of books he carries onto the small breakfast table by the balcony before returning his attention to you once more, “I left my wife this morning dripping with my spend and already I return to a babe.”

“Aemond!” You hiss, frowning when you hear Aegon whimper at your chest, “Please, he is already in a state.”

“And in our chambers,” Aemond takes a seat at the table, unlacing his boots before setting them to the side, along with his leather tunic, “Normally you two reserve this… intimacy for his rooms.” His long fingers quickly untie his trousers, leaving them hanging from his slender waist as he moves about your chambers, poking the fire in the hearth back to life and tidying the papers on the writing desk.

You soothe Aegon when he whimpers again, looking up at you with questioning, unsure eyes as a blush blooms on his cheeks. Even if his brother knows the details of your relationship with him, and even though he had walked in on him in this exact position before, he couldn’t help but feel so shy and vulnerable when he got this way.

“Shh, my sweet,” you speak softly to the man at your breast, running your fingers through his pale hair, “Just relax, you’re okay.” Your words seem to settle him and his eyes grow droopy and half-lidded once more, a contented groan rumbling through his chest.

“You should have seen him earlier,” you turn back to Aemond, eyes following him as he walks to your dressing table, “Poor thing came crying about court gossip.” You didn’t miss the small eye roll your husband gave at you calling his brother “poor thing” but you chose to ignore it for the time being; you didn’t love their endless taunts and teasing but they were still brothers, after all.

“And what was the sweet babe weeping about this time?” Aemond asks, his voice dripping with derision as he takes a cloth from the small wash basin on the dressing table and quickly wipes at his neck and shoulders, droplets of water streaming down his defined frame and running into the lines and dips of the muscles on his chest, arms, and abdomen.

Aegon growls at your chest, not missing the mockery in his brother’s tone. You try to calm him but it’s no use, he pulls off of your chest and throws Aemond a vicious look; you merely make yourself comfortable against the pillows and sigh tiredly. Gods be good, you thought, staring up at the stone ceiling as if the Seven would appear to offer their guidance; you love the two brothers more than anything else but you could do without their brotherly spats.

“Well?” Aemond goads, his eye widening as he stares at his brother, a silent challenge.

“He feared I was pregnant,” you interject quickly, attempting to quell the coming squabble before it broke out, “Apparently the ladies of court have nothing better to do than monitor my condition.” You put an arm around Aegon as you speak, as if keeping him close to you would keep the two men from bickering.

“You are my wife,” Aemond huffs out a sardonic laugh, a smirk playing at his lips as he wrings out the cloth and leaves it to dry on the side of the wash basin, “Why would it be of his concern if –”

Aegon growls against your breast again, letting your nipple fall from his pink lips as he fixes his brother with a glare, one that falters for half a second as you protectively tighten your hold on him. His dark eyes continue to glare at Aemond, following his every move as he comes to stand at the side of the bed, arms crossed over his chest as he studies the two of you.

“Hush, my love,” you pet at his head and shoulders in an attempt to soothe him once more, glaring at your husband in warning, “This is nothing we need worry ourselves with tonight.”

Aemond comes to sit next to you on the bed, giving Aegon a quick glare before he leans down and places a tender kiss to the top of your head. “You’re right,” he says into your hair, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face, “We need not trouble ourselves with it tonight.”

Aegon huffs against your chest once more and gives his brother a final warning glance before looking up at you with a questioning gaze, pouty lips parted in an unspoken question.

“You need some more time with mommy?” You ask him softly, grinning when he shyly nods, still so skittish of his needs around his brother. You coo and give him a nod, unable to stop the sigh that leaves you at the feel of his mouth on you once more. His tongue delicately licks at your hardened nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, still teasing it as he suckles.

You admire him for a moment, studying the way his long lashes fan out over his cheeks once his eyes slip closed, his arms wrapped protectively around your middle as he kneels at your side.

Finally, you turn your head to Aemond, surprised to see his eye trained on his brother, watching as he nurses at your breast. “Husband?” You ask tentatively; your relationship with both brothers was not a secret, at least not between the three of you, but even still, you rarely had them at the same time.

His eye finally meets yours and he smiles, cuddling you closer, which earns a small whine from Aegon as he’s forced to move a fraction of an inch with you. “You needn’t worry so much,” he keeps his voice soft as he speaks, trailing kisses down your temple and cheek, “I’m merely thinking.”

“About?”

“Putting a babe in you,” he all but growls into your ear before kissing the delicate skin just below it. “Seeing you grow with my child,” he continues, one hand skimming up your arm before he cups your unoccupied breast, long fingers kneading it gently before they pinch at your nipple, “Watching as these swell with your sweet milk.”

A shiver rolls through you at the thought, and at the salacious groan that vibrates from Aegon’s mouth. Your husband smirks at your reaction, watching proudly as your eyes become cloudy and unfocused.

“Do you like that?” Aemond asks against the column of your throat as his lips and teeth and tongue work against your skin, sucking marks into the flesh, “Like the thought of my seed filling you up, finally taking root?”

You hardly register Aegon’s whine, eyes squeezed shut as you feel your husband pressing himself to you, lips pressing against any bit of your skin he can reach, chuckling softly at how easy it is to work his brother up. “Wouldn’t that be something, brother?” Aemond questions sarcastically, his eye glimmering mischievously, “Wouldn’t she be so beautiful with my babe in her?”

The older brother grumbles something against you before redoubling his efforts, making you gasp as he begins suckling at you harshly, nose twitching in annoyance. You calm him as best you can, a shaky hand coming up and carding delicately through his hair – Aemond’s ministrations making it hard to concentrate.

“You’ll be such a good mother, sweetling,” Aemond says lowly, kissing his way down your stomach as he moves to kneel between your thighs, “So perfect and sweet and caring.” He continues, punctuating each word with a kiss against your abdomen, his long hair tickling the skin of your thighs.

“Aemond,” you pant softly, back arching as Aegon’s teeth just barely graze against your sensitive nipple, “Please!” You beg, though whether it’s to get him to stop taunting his brother or carry on with you, you cannot say.

“Shh,” he presses wet kisses against one of your thighs, lips trailing slowly up to where you want him most before he tilts his head and begins kissing up the other thigh as well, his pace torturously slow, “I always give you what you want, do I not?”

A loud, uncontained moan tears itself from your throat as Aemond presses a kiss against your folds, groaning into your heat as he tastes you. “Gods, you’re dripping,” he growls into your cunt, practically making out with your center as his hands come to rest on the tops of your thighs, holding you in place, “Did your babe not care for you at all?”

At this, Aegon pauses, whining against your breast as he lifts his head, thin tendrils of drool connecting his shining lips to your hardened nipple. The feeling of his mouth lifting off of you has you finally opening your eyes, only to be met with his wide, uncertain eyes.

“Mommy?” His voice is so small, so terribly worried at the thought that he may have disappointed you somehow.

“Oh, sweet prince,” you whisper, voice catching in your throat as you gasp at the feel of Aemond sucking your aching pearl into his mouth, worrying the sensitive skin between his lips. Your brows furrow with concentration as your eyes meet Aegon’s, your hands gently cupping his cheeks, “Don’t worry yourself,” you have to pause again as a curse slips past your lips, “You’re my perfect little baby, you could never disappoint me.”

You finally manage to pant out your reassurances, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at the feel of Aemond’s hot tongue licking into your center, his nose pressed firmly against your bud as he fucks you on the long muscle, groaning into your slick folds as he savors your sweet taste. You stare desperately into Aegon’s dark eyes, back arching as your husband feasts on your cunt with practiced ease, the slick, squelching sounds of him licking into you and suckling at your pearl making you mewl and blush.

“You’re so beautiful, mommy,” Aegon murmurs softly, violet eyes staring at you with rapture, as if he’s trying to absorb the pleasure radiating from you, “So pretty.” He breathes finally and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips, whimpering when he feels your tongue press into his mouth.

The men hold you like that for a moment, letting you lie back on the bed as they attend to you – Aemond murmuring dirty praises into your cunt as he licks at you wildly, flicking shapes and patterns against your pearl that have your head spinning; Aegon swallowing your wanton moans in his own mouth as he moves his lips against yours.

You whine against the older brother’s mouth when you feel your husband’s fingers gently prodding your center, gathering wetness on them before carefully pushing two into your heat. “Seven, you’re tight,” his breath is warm against your glossy folds, “Always so tight, feels so good, sweetling.” He purrs before quickly wrapping his lips around your bud once more, gently sucking at the tender flesh but combined with the pressure of his fingers, it’s enough to send you into a tailspin.

You pull away from Aegon with a gasp, back arching off the bed as you whine Aemond’s name, blushing as you hear the loud wet sounds emanating from where his fingers fuck into your cunt. Faintly, you hear Aegon whimpering next to you, his soft cries almost in time with yours as he presses soft kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“Mommy, my mommy,” he whispers in reverence, leaning across your chest to get to the breast he’s neglected thus far, kissing softly across your supple skin and teasing your nipple with the tip of his tongue before finally suckling it into his mouth, closing his eyes with a soft groan as he nurses, getting lost in the feel of you beneath him, your skin on his.

Aegon’s lips around your nipple has you breaking, every muscle in your body seeming to tense up as your high overtakes you. A strange mixture of their names leaves your lips in a rough moan as you squeeze your eyes shut, fire exploding through you.

“That’s it,” Aemond groans, crooking up his fingers within you as he feels your walls pulsing around them, pressing them into that rough patch he has memorized in your heat, the one he knows prolongs your peak, “Gods, that felt like a big one, sweetling.”

Somehow, you find it within yourself to nod tiredly, chest heaving as you catch your breath, slinging an arm over Aegon’s back as he sighs happily against your chest.

“Made you feel good, mommy,” he chuckles proudly around your breast, nipping and licking at your nipple as he tilts his head to meet your gaze, earning an annoyed huff from Aemond as he presses calming kisses against your thighs and hips.

He’s so proud of himself that you can’t help yourself from smiling and giggling, your fingers carding through his hair. “Oh, yes you did,” you coo, “You made me feel so good, my precious boy.”

Below you, Aemond bites at your thigh as a warning, making you jump. “Keep it up and you’ll only give him a bigger ego,” he rolls his eyes and presses wet kisses in a trail up your stomach, stopping only when he reaches Aegon, still lying across you. The bed dips as Aemond crawls back up to lie next to you, kissing his way up your neck and jaw before finally slotting his lips against your own.

A whimper escapes your lips as he does, one of your hands reaching up to run your fingers through his long hair, the pale strands threading between your digits like silk. He sighs into the kiss, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your neck, not choking but merely staking a claim. The action makes you mewl and he uses it to his advantage, quickly sliding his tongue across your bottom lip before entwining it with your own as he licks into your mouth. You can feel your face heat up as you taste yourself on his lips, squirming in his hold as Aegon continues licking and suckling at your hardened nipple, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine and quickly reigniting the flames in your belly.

Aemond smirks as your moans change in pitch, the familiar high-pitched, whiny cadence causing him to let out a low, vibrating growl himself.

“Please, Aemond,” you whisper against his lips, whimpering as he trails his kisses down your jaw and neck.

Your husband groans softly against your shoulder, a shudder rolling through him at the breathy way you say his name, his favorite sound. “You need not beg me, sweetling,” he sighs, gently gripping your hips and nodding for you to roll onto your side, “I’ve got you.”

Aegon whines as Aemond moves you, struggling to keep his soft lips latched around your peaked nipple, which earns him another eye roll from your husband. Quickly, you settle onto your side, both arms immediately wrapping around Aegon to hold him close. His pale hair tickles your lips as you press a sweet kiss to the crown of his head, softly giggling as he desperately suckles your nipple back into his mouth; your sweet boy could be at your breast for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough for him.

The bed dips on either side of you as the two men bracket you between them, Aemond behind you and Aegon in front. Your husband presses kisses against the back of your shoulder as he slots himself against you, the warmth of his chest pressing against your back sends a shiver down your spine and makes your already stiff nipples harden to the point of aching.

“Iksā sīr gevie, ñuha ābrazȳrys,” Aemond whispers against your shoulder as he trails a hand over your curves, humming appreciatively as he palms the swell of your arse, “Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie.” (You are so beautiful, my wife, I love you so much.)

You whimper at his words, your heart twisting happily in your chest as you recall their meaning from the lessons he had given you during your courtship. “Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha valzȳrys,” you manage to moan brokenly, “So much, Aemond!” You breathe, foggy brain unable to keep up with translations any longer. (I love you too, my husband.)

A gasp leaves you as Aemond presses himself against you tightly as you realize that he had managed to tug off his trousers at some point, his length slotting beautifully between your thighs as he ruts against you.

“Gods!” Your slick folds part greedily as your husband rubs against your center, coating his cock in your juices, the tip rubbing deliciously against your pearl, “Oh, Aemond!”

“Shhh,” he breathes against your ear as one of his warm hands latches onto your thigh and pulls it up, giving him more room to guide his cock into your heat, “I’ve got you, sweetling, I have you.”

You nod, near delirious, practically sobbing as he finally guides himself into you, filling you perfectly. Your head lolls back, further into his embrace as he slowly presses into you, stretching you as he finally bottoms out, stones pressed firmly to your backside as a low, gravelly groan vibrates against your back.

“You feel so good,” you moan breathily, your fingers scrambling through Aegon’s hair as you press his mouth against you, earning a whimper from the prince as he takes your breast further into his mouth, suckling at it greedily, spit leaking from the corners of his lips.

“Feels perfect,” Aemond huffs, grunting as he begins moving his hips against yours, eye squeezing shut at the feel of your slick walls sucking him in as you quiver around his length, “You feel perfect, tight little cunt.” He mutters, more to himself than to you, hissing the words between clenched teeth.

You let yourself get lost for a moment, a light sheen of sweat blanketing your skin from the heat of the two men around you. You make no attempt to stop soft, satisfied moans from slipping out of your lips, breathing your pleasure against Aegon’s forehead as Aemond rocks into you, thrusting his hips in a well-practiced pattern as he fills you again and again. Your husband’s grip tightens on your thigh, making your eyes roll back deliciously as Aegon flicks his tongue against your nipple before greedily sucking it back into his mouth.

A few moments later, you’re brought out of your reverie by a slick feeling at the front of your thigh, small whimpers and whines from the man at your breast finally managing to trickle their way into your consciousness.

You finally open your eyes, letting out a soft moan as you take in the sight before you – Aegon suckling desperately at your sensitive breast, his dark eyes looking up at you pleadingly, already shimmering with unshed tears, as he ruts his hard length against your thigh, already leaking glossy trails onto your skin with every movement.

“Ohh,” you coo softly, pressing a kiss to his sweat-damp forehead as you wrap your hand around his length, feeling it immediately twitch in your grasp, “You need mommy to take care of you?” You ask breathily.

“P-Please,” Aegon whimpers brokenly, flicking his tongue over your nipple as he nods his head, “Hurts!” He whines, voice thick as tears leak from the corners of his eyes.

You press another comforting kiss to his forehead, gasping in time with Aemond’s hard thrusts as you begin slowly teasing the prince’s hard length, cooing again as you feel him pulsing in your grasp. “What a good boy,” you whine, swirling your thumb against his leaking tip, “Getting so hard from hearing mommy get fucked, hm?”

You feel him shudder against you, a low groan sounding against your breast as his hips fuck up into your hold. He whines as you let go of his cock for a second, quickly running your fingers around where Aemond spears into you. Your husband grunts behind you at the sensation as you quickly gather some of your juices on your fingers, moaning brokenly as you flick them around your pearl for a second before returning your attention to Aegon.

Your face heats as you suddenly get a dirty idea and you take a second to spread some of your juices across your unoccupied breast, chuckling breathily as Aegon immediately abandons the one he’s currently suckling on, a loud moan snaking past his lips when you wrap your slick fingers around his cock once again, easing his thrusts into your fists.

“Greedy babe,” Aemond grunts from over your shoulder, watching as Aegon frantically licks around your breast, humming excitedly at your sweet taste before latching onto your nipple once more, “Suckling at any part of my sweet wife he can reach.”

A fire lights in your belly at Aemond’s words as you’re surprised he’s addressing Aegon at all, his teasing lilt only adding to the heat within you. The prince whines within your grasp, his face flushing to a deeper shade of pink than it already is and his violet eyes shoot daggers in his brother’s general direction, not caring that he can’t see them.

Suddenly, Aemond lets go of your thigh, leaving you to sling it over one of Aegon’s pale hips as he continues thrusting his cock into you, deep and slow. His hand instead settles on one breast and he lovingly palms at it, humming with satisfaction at its weighty feel in his hand.

A loud whine leaves you as his fingers pinch around your overly-sensitive bud, tweaking and tugging at the swollen skin. Your back arches, loud whimpers tumbling past your lips as his touch borders on pain. Aegon growls at your sounds of discomfort, letting your nipple fall from his lips as he sits up just enough to throw him a malicious glare over your shoulder.

“Ngh!” Your little prince grunts, smacking Aemond’s hand away from you before wrapping an arm around your waist protectively and pressing soft kisses to your abused breast, “Mommy?” He questions softly, teary eyes searching yours, desperately wanting to make sure you’re alright.

“Shh, shh,” you soothe sweetly, carding your fingers through his hair as he lays his head on your pillow once more, “Mommy’s okay, my sweet, thank you.” Your words are breathy, feeling halfway forced out of you as Aemond’s thrusts speed up, your mind growing fuzzy as the head of his cock moves against the sensitive spot within you perfectly, making you clench around him. Aegon continues thrusting into your grasp, his hands frantically grabbing onto any parts of you he can reach.

“Pathetic,” Aemond huffs at his brother, biting into the sensitive skin of your neck, “So whiny, fuck, so whiny under your muña’s touch you can’t even speak.” (Mother’s)

Aegon whines again, a high, pitiful sound against your beast as he latches onto you once more, low groans ripping through him as the leaking head of his cock rubs against your soft thigh.

“Hush,” you admonish, one arm hugging possessively around the prince, “Mommy’s taking good care of her sweet little boy, isn’t she?”

“Y-Yes,” Aegon breathes brokenly around a soft moan, his cock twitching desperately in your hand, “Yes, yes, yes!” He chants around your breast, soft little words in time with each stroke of your hand.

You can see him start to lose himself — watching as his eyes grow ever more glossy, tears welling up in the corners while throaty sobs and sighs warm your breast, his length seeming to get somehow thicker in your grasp as the head of his cock positively weeps against you.

“What a good boy,” you sigh encouragingly, smiling proudly, glowing with the knowledge that you can reduce him to such a state, “Are you close, my sweet?”

He nods desperately, soft grunts accompanying the thrusts of his hips up into your grasp. You keep your pace steady, your own head swimming as your release builds within you.

After another few seconds, Aegon begins shaking helplessly in your grasp, his chest heaving as sobs are wrenched from his throat. “That’s it,” you murmur softly, feeling your cunt clench around Aemond’s length at the sight of the prince coming undone before you, making the other man groan loudly behind you, “Come on, I know you’re so close, show mommy how good she makes you feel, my love.”

As always, your soft approval is what unravels him. You moan loudly, watching him fall apart in your arms, relishing the soft moans and sighs of your name as they fall from his pouty lips, the way his hips stutter in your hold. You gasp softly at the feel of his cock twitching between the two of you, his spend coating his belly and chest in pearlescent streaks.

Before he’s even had the chance to recover, your sweet boy finds it within himself to bring one hand down, greedily seeking out your bud. He sighs happily when you cry out his name, his fingers circling your aching pearl perfectly, just in the way you’d taught him, his chest still heaving with his own release.

“Oh, Gods!” You gasp, your own hips rutting back and forth between the two men, “So c-close, fuck!” You whine, the fire in your belly threatening to consume you.

“That’s a good girl,” Aemond grunts, hips thrusting into you at a maddening pace, “Do you want me to breed a baby into your wet little cunt, sweetling?”

You and Aegon whine at the same instant, yours in pleasure and his in annoyance. Your walls clench desperately at your husband's thick length, making him chuckle breathlessly behind you.

“Find your pleasure, sweet girl,” he groans, his thrusts somehow perfectly timed to the swirls of Aegon’s fingers against your bud, “Peak and I’ll put a little babe in your belly, my love.”

Aemond’s promise, Aegon’s soft whine, and the feel of their touches mingling on your slick heat finally pushes you over the edge once more. Your cunt pulses around Aemond as you slip over the edge, your pearl buzzing and twitching under Aegon’s fingers as flames of pleasure lick up your spine, sparks exploding behind your eyelids as you cry out against Aegon’s neck.

Your release claws Aemond’s out of him as well, the feeling of his seed emptying into you spurring your peak on further. You whimper, mouthing at the pale skin of your prince’s throat as you feel warmth bloom within you, your husband’s harsh strokes finally slowing to a stop.

The three of you lay silent for a while, the only sounds in your chambers being soft pants and sighs. Finally, Aemond carefully pulls his length from you, soothing you gently when you whine.

“Seven,” he groans softly, watching his seed slip slowly from your spent center, “Perhaps this time we should let it take.” He muses as he gets up from the bed, retrieving a fresh cloth from your dressing table and quickly cleaning your center and thighs.

“But,” Aegon whimpers softly, drawing your attention back to him as he looks at you with wide, worried eyes, “What…what about me?” The meekness in his voice makes your heart ache as you hurriedly hush him, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes with your thumbs.

“You don’t worry about a thing, my little love,” you reassure him, pulling him into your arms and rocking him slowly against you, “No matter what the future holds, you will always be my precious little prince. I swear it.” You promise, pressing soft kisses to each of his cheeks, one of your hands tickling at his side until he squirms and giggles against you, burying his head in your neck with a tired sigh.

Aemond huffs again, setting his eyepatch on the table by your bed before he assumes his spot next to you once more, slinging an arm over your waist as he makes himself comfortable.

On your other side, Aegon shuffles down the bed once more, making you giggle softly as he presses feather light kisses to your breast, sighing happily at the mere feel of your supple skin against his lips as he cozies himself against you.

“Maybe we should hold off on the moon tea this time,” Aemond ponders, mumbling against your shoulder as his fingers trace soothing patterns into the soft skin of your hip, “Surely an actual babe could be no more difficult than the one we already seem to have.”

Aegon whines, Aemond chuckles, and you tiredly groan.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @hopelesswritergall @phantombitch @fan-goddess @aemshaircare @cuddlejeongin @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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thekinslayed · 17 days

Text

Give You My Lovin’

summary | It takes little effort for your boyfriend, Aemond, to drive you insane.

pairing | modern aemond targaryen x girlfriend!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, blowjob, naughty thoughts, aemond is So Fucking Hot, attempt at drunk sex, alcohol intoxication, spit kink, daddy kink, unexpectedly fluffy at the end!

wordcount | 3.3k

note | a little something to start your week! i need modern aemond astronomically bad. in ways concerning to feminism.

song rec | Give You My Lovin - Mazzy Star

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated! i am open for fic requests <3

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

When you first started dating your boyfriend, Aemond, you had never felt so greedy for someone the way you did for him. You just couldn't get enough of him– his hair, scent, innate confidence, and that face, gods, that was a face you would certainly go to war for. You were insatiable, and so was he. Many dates had been cut short because both your hands started wandering a little too much, or a look from him would immediately have your skin on fire and end up with you pulling him out the door to rush home.

And after 3 years of dating, it was safe to say this man still had you feral from every little thing he did, even without the intention of doing so.

It was early, too early even, to be feeling this way. You both had just woken up in your shared apartment, having a slow morning on your day off. With having lived together for more than a year now, you and Aemond had established your respective routines at home. At this time, both of you should have been out on a morning run, but your activities from last night left a terrible ache in your thighs which had you both staying in that morning. You were still in bed, leaning on the headboard, watching Aemond do pull-ups on the bar by the doorframe. He was only clad in his plaid pajama bottoms, and his back was turned to you, giving you a perfect view of the way his back muscles rippled with every movement. Your eyes watched as the veins on his forearms bulged every time he lifted himself. His arm muscles were well-defined and toned, waist trim, and shoulders wide. Years of calisthenics blessed your boyfriend with a lean, lithe form. He was tall, the tallest in his family, blessed with long legs and a model-like figure. There have been countless moments where girls would come up to your boyfriend in hopes of charming him, but sweet, faithful Aemond only had eyes for his girl.

He puffed out a breath of air with every rep, and droplets of sweat started to run down his back from the sheer exertion. You had lost track of how long he had been doing this, but you weren’t complaining. As he dropped back to his feet, he rolled his shoulders back, letting out a groan. The sound alone went straight to your core, which had been throbbing restlessly while watching him work out. He turned around to face you, and you bit your lip at the sight of his bare chest, sprinkled with light hair. His abs were incredibly well-defined, and you resisted the urge to run your finger down the bumps of defined muscle on his abdomen. How the hell does one even get an eight-pack?

“Baby?”

“Hm?” You hummed, snapping out your trance. The corner of Aemond’s thin lips quirked up when he caught you shamelessly staring at him, and his eye didn’t miss the way you subtly rubbed your thighs together underneath the blankets.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked amusedly, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Mm… no,” you said sheepishly. Aemond chuckled, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed by your side.

You could smell the sweat off his skin, the heat radiating from his flesh warmed you through the blankets. Your cheeks blushed as you caught the sight of a lone droplet of sweat on the tip of his aquiline nose, right on the cleft. His hand rubbed the side of your thighs, sending a spark that ran up your spine. All of your sense were gone as your blood rushed to your cunt, rendering your mind cloudy aside from the fact of how much you want to fuck.

Shit, were you ovulating?

“Y’alright?” He asked, his good eye studying your face.

“Mhm,” you merely nodded, not trusting your own voice to form words at that moment. He smirked, knowing full well the kind of thoughts running through your head. Aemond leaned his face closer to yours, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Really? ‘Cos you got a little drool here,” He teased you, playfully wiping the corner of your mouth. You slapped his hand away, rolling your eyes as he bellowed out a laugh, though you couldn’t resist the way your lips tugged into a smile. You furrowed your eyebrows to feign anger, grasping his wrist to pull him on top of you.

“Enough of that, come here!”

It was half past 1 a.m. when Aemond opened the front door to the sight of you, drunkenly leaning on your friend who struggled to keep you on your feet. You had been out for girls’ night, and your boyfriend had patiently waited for you at home while you were out. He took you into his arms, thanking your best friend for safely taking you home, before shutting the door behind you both.

“Aem,” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. Through your drunken haze, you feel a kiss planted on your hair, smoothing out the strands that had gotten messed up.

“Hi, baby,” Aemond greeted you, rubbing the exposed flesh on your waist. “Did you have a good time?”

You hummed as you nodded, leaning on the wall while Aemond bent down to take off your shoes. You had a fun night with your girls, perhaps a little too fun. The lightweight that you were, it only took you a couple of cocktails to have you warm and loose. Though sometime through the night you had started to miss your boyfriend, the fuzzy feeling from the alcohol going straight to your core as you thought about what he was up to.

Aemond guided you through your home with a hand on your waist, slowly taking steps forward while you leaned your weight on him. As you reached the living room, you turned your body towards him, wrapping both arms around his torso, and looking up at him with your chin on his chest.

You let out a deep affectionate sigh as you stared at him through dizzy, blurry eyes. He was wearing his glasses, having been busy reading while he waited for you to come home. The thin frames sat on his perfect nose, the sight sending a warm flutter across your chest. How he made glasses look so fucking hot, you had no idea.

“I missed you,” You confessed, rubbing a hand on his chest. Aemond smiled at your words, leaning down to plant another kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you too, darling. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” he suggested, though you only whined and planted your feet on the floor.

“I need you, Aem,” You said, gripping on his bicep. Your nipples were hard against the thin fabric of your top, poking at Aemond’s chest as you pressed yourself against him. Your boyfriend only sighed, shaking his head slightly as he knew what you were up to. Truth be told, you were always needy for him. Your heart thumped heavily with yearning for his touch, his warmth, and that only amplified when you weren’t sober.

“No, baby, you know we can’t,” Aemond refused. It went against every fiber of his morality-driven being to take pleasure from you while you were intoxicated. His mother would be horrified if he did, reprimanding him that you were a woman, and every woman must be respected as she was the image of the Mother.

But gods, you were irresistible when you were needy.

You stomped your foot childishly at his refusal, grabbing his hand to guide it up your skirt. Your grip was surprisingly strong despite your intoxicated state, forcing his fingers past your panties where your cunt dripped with arousal, just for him.

“Please, Daddy, I need you so bad,” You cried out, hiding your face in his neck. Aemond could feel his resolve faltering as his cock jumped from how your slick coated his fingertips. He gulped, pulling his hand away from your core and wiping it away.

His large hands cupped your face, prompting you to look at him. Aemond’s heart twinged at the frown on your pink lips, your cheeks still adorably flushed from the liquor you had consumed.

“It wouldn’t be right, with you drunk while I’m sober.” He explained, rubbing at your jaw affectionately. Some hair fell into your face, and his fingers tucked them behind your ear.

“I’m not drunk!”

“Okay, alright,” A chuckle fell from Aemond’s lips at your protest, before planting a kiss on your nose. “How about tomorrow, hm? I’ll spend the entire morning making it up to you if you still feel up for it.” A defeated sigh left your lips, accepting you won’t be able to convince him tonight.

Damn you, Alicent, for raising such a perfect son.

You let Aemond guide you to the bathroom, where he helped you change into your pajamas before cleaning your face. He knew how much you would regret it if you went to be with a dirty face, so he clipped away your hair before removing your makeup himself. He held your hair back in one hand as you washed your face, a towel ready in the other. Your boyfriend patted your face dry and then applied your skincare products. The liquid felt cool against your flushed skin, your eyes comfortably closing as you let him take care of you.

The cold water on your face had helped you sober up a bit, and as you opened your eyes, the sight of Aemond’s concentrated face greeted you. The man took everything in his life quite seriously, even something so mundane as helping his darling girl clean her face after a drunken night out. You huffed out a chuckle, prompting him to meet your eyes.

“What’s funny?” he asked, but only getting a shake of the head as a response from you. Your hand grabbed his wrist, stopping his hand’s ministrations. You leaned forward to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.

“Baby,” Aemond tsked, pulling away from you. His good eye met yours, which shined with affection for him. His heart fluttered at the beauty that stood before him, giving you a small smile in return to your shy one.

You were guided to your shared bedroom after brushing your teeth, sinking into the soft mattress as your exhaustion caught up to you. In the darkness of your home, your tired body turned to snuggle into Aemond’s arms. You let out a content sigh, whispering ‘I love you’ into your beloved’s skin.

The sound of Aemond’s breathless moans filled the room as they fell freely from his lips. He was sitting on the couch, boxers dropped to his ankles as your head bobbed up and down his length. Your hair was gripped tight into a ponytail in one hand while the other gripped the armrest of the couch tightly. The movie on your television was completely forgotten, only serving as background noise while you sucked your boyfriend’s cock. It drowned out the wet slick sounds coming from your mouth as Aemond continued to thrust his hips up, chasing his release.

He cursed under his breath when your hand came up to fondle his balls, throwing his head back as you hurled him closer to his precipice. Before the knot in his stomach could snap, he pulled you away from his cock, hurling you up from your knees and onto the couch.

Aemond pulled off your shorts and panties in one go, before turning you around to drape your upper body on the arm of the couch. You could only gasp when he entered you in one swift motion. His hips pounded into you mercilessly, giving you no time to catch your breath as you moaned. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as his cockhead bullied your sweet spot deliciously.

“Aemond,” You wailed, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. The sound of skin slamming onto each other overlapped with the movie soundtrack as the credits started to roll, though both of you still paid it no mind.

Aemond let out a groan, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. Your cunt throbbed as you heard him pant and grunt in your ear. His hands clutched your hips with a grip that was sure to leave marks, while his pace was still relentless, never faltering.

“Ha, so fucking tight. Perhaps I should fuck this pussy more, hm? Give it more attention?” He grunted in your ear. You whimpered at his words, walls clenching in excitement at the thought. “Yeah? You like that, baby?”

“Fu- yes, Daddy,” You whined shamelessly. Aemond let out a dark chuckle, planting a kiss on your temple before sitting back on his haunches. He pulled out his cock to manhandle you onto your back, before thrusting into you again to continue fucking you into release. Your leg draped over the back of the couch while the other was gripped tightly in Aemond’s hand. You lowered your hand to rub circles into your clit, but your boyfriend slapped it away to rub it himself. His thumb drew fast, hard circles onto your pearl, making your toes clench as it tightened the coil in your belly. You were so close, and Aemond could feel it with the way your walls spasmodically tightened around his cock.

You could feel your climax threaten to wash you over, and as your moans only grew louder in pitch, Aemond’s hips thrust into you harder and harder. A chorus of ‘uh, uh, uh’s helplessly fell from your lips as you felt yourself being sunken deeper into the plush couch.

A hand came up to the armrest above your head to ground yourself when Aemond took both of your thighs and pressed them against your chest. Your tailbone lifted into the air as your body folded in half like a doll. Aemond watched your eyebrows furrow and your jaw fall open, before clutching your cheeks to spit into your mouth. He gave you a praising pat when you swallowed, and continuing to rub your clit once more. His good eye stayed on yours which had grown dazed as you lost yourself in the throes of your pleasure.

As his hips continued to thrust into you in tandem with the circles he drew on your pearl, your thighs began to shake when you felt the beginning of your release. You let out a long whine, clutching onto Aemond’s bicep as you spilled around his cock. The man above you groaned as your walls squeezed his length, prompting his release. Curses continued to fall from his lips as your spasming walls milked him dry.

You felt boneless as you caught your breath after your climax. The weight of Aemond’s body was a welcome comfort as he collapsed on top of you, equally as breathless. His softening cock remained in your pussy which had only begun to slowly stop its spasms. The combination of your juices dripped around his cock, running down your slit and onto the couch. You reminded yourself to clean your mess later, but with Aemond still lying on top of you, you remained motionless as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

The glare of the television was still bright against your closed eyelids, which had redirected to the menu after long minutes of inactivity. You opened your eyes to the blinking reminder,

'Still watching?'

The sun shone brightly as you lounged by the courtyard in the Targaryen mansion. You and Aemond had visited for the weekly brunch organized by his mother as a chance to see her children. You loved driving up to their family home, relishing in the chance to get away from the bustling city for a moment in the quiet farmland the historic manor sat upon. Beside you, was Helaena, who indulged you with the latest gossip at the veterinary hospital she worked at.

“People saw them leave together for their break, and they were gone for more than an hour!” She exclaimed, wildly waving her martini glass around. Despite your interest in the juicy details Helaena divulged, you could only half listen to her words as you mindlessly sipped on your martini. Your focus was on a sight by the grass, where your boyfriend played with his nephews and niece. He let the children roughhouse him, rolling around in the grass as they climbed up on top of him. Aemond had always had a sweet spot for his sister’s children, while his own heart longed for babes of his own. Your heart warmed as gleeful laughter and shrieks echoed through the air, chuckling as you watched the tall silver-haired man fall helplessly to the children’s mercy. You hadn’t even noticed when Helaena stopped talking, your good friend only watching the lovestruck look on your face as your attention was fully on Aemond.

“Have you guys talked about it yet?” She asked. You tore your gaze away from the grass, turning to the woman beside you.

“About what?” you responded, clueless as to what she was referring to.

“Y’know, having kids, getting married,” she indicated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You blushed at her words, downing the cocktail in your hand before fidgeting with the stem of the glass.

“Uh, a little bit? I-I mean I want to have kids with him for sure, but… I don’t know if we’re ready yet,” You stammered, flustered with her abrupt question. Your gaze returned to your boyfriend, who had now risen to his feet, carrying all three children. Jaehaerys and Maelor clung to his legs, while Jaehaera was carried on his back. They all squealed in delight as Aemond trudged through the grass, slow and careful to not drop them. Your heart warmed at the sight, mind helplessly wandering to the thought of him being a father to your own kids. He’d expressed his want for children, often in the form of whispering his intent to breed you and leave you full of his seed during sex. But those are uttered in the heat of the moment.

Still, you can’t help but yearn for the moment when you would finally vow to be his forever and to have a family of your own.

Aemond managed to walk back to where his brothers stood without any of the children falling off. Upon seeing Aegon crouched with open arms, the boys let go of their uncle’s legs to run to him. The elder Targaryen managed to catch both boys, carrying them in his arms with no complaint. He turned to his younger brother, who shifted sweet Jaehaera from his back.

“Your girl looks like she could eat you any second, brother,” Aegon commented, eyes flickering to where you lounged with Helaena. Daeron snickered, covering his lips with the bottle of beer he held when Aemond shot him a look.

“You can’t say that in front of the kids, Aegon,” Aemond reprimanded. The children paid the adults no mind, having asked to be put down again to run off and play in their little playground.

“Y’know Mum’s asking for more grandkids? Said she wasn’t getting any younger,” Daeron said, wiggling his eyebrows at his older brother. Despite his mother’s young age, Alicent loved being a grandmother and was constantly dreaming for more grandchildren, often directing the request to her favorite son every time she brought it up. She absolutely adored you and has been treating you as her own daughter since early into your and Aemond’s relationship.

“Yeah I know, I’m working on it,” Aemond sighed wistfully, snatching Daeron’s beer to take a swig, despite the youngest’s protest.

Aemond turned to where you sat, giving you a wave when you flashed him a sweet smile. He felt happy to see you with his family, especially with his mother and sister, who were both the most important women in his life. It felt right, having you here. He could see a future with you in it, and babes of your own to play with. Truth was, Aemond was more than ready. He would take you down to city hall to marry you right away the moment you asked. He would give you the grandest of weddings, however you liked it.

However, it couldn’t be just up to him. If you needed time, he would respect it, and if you decided that marriage wasn’t for you, well, what else could he do?

Still, the longing weighed heavily in his chest, as did the ring that sat in his pocket.

#bella writes ✍️#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen #modern aemond #aemond smut #aemond fluff #ewan mitchell #hotd x reader

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aemonds-sapphire · 2 years

Text

Precious Stones

Summary: When you receive a unique gift from Prince Aemond, you know there is no turning back.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Aemond is such a tease...

Word count: 1.5k

Here is part 2

A soft jab at the door stirred you from your shared embroidery sitting with princess Helaena.

“Come in.”

The servant did as the princess commanded, and walked in, bowing profusely at both of you.

“Pardon the interruption. I come bearing a gift from Prince Aemond.”

“Precious stones are shared by loved ones…” you heard Halaena absentmindedly whisper under her breath, too involved in her craft to be bothered to accept the gift. “Precious stones are shared by loved ones.”

You rose to your feet so you could take the velvety pouch from the young girl’s hand.

Even the just mere mention of his name had your heart tighten briefly.

“Thank you,” you gave her a warm smile before walking toward the princess.

“Actually, my lady… it is for you,” her voice was but a whisper. “Prince Aemond requests that you wear it for tonight’s festivities.”

You widened your eyes. “Me?”

Nodding, the servant turned and made her way out of the quarters, leaving you to your thoughts.

This was bold.

Too bold.

Even for the likes of Aemond Targaryen.

Offering gifts to his sister’s lady-in-waiting could rapidly spread like wildfire across the Red Keep. It was not a nuisance you craved.

Even though you did crave him.

Wholeheartedly.

“Precious stones are shared by loved ones.”

Helaena managed to catch your attention as she kept on repeating the same phrase over and over.

“What is the matter, Helaena?” you asked, dropping to her knees, staring at her worriedly.

She then met your gaze with a soft smile. “Let’s see my brother’s gift.”

Resting on the heels on your feet, you untied the neat lace, pouring the gift onto your hand.

Helaena gasped in wonder.

You gasped in horror.

Prince Aemond Targaryen had offered you the most beautiful necklace you had ever had the fortune to touch.

Oval sapphires hung from it, laced in intricate golden patterns that secured them in place. Its weight dug into your hand, and you were certain this had to be the work of the finest jewelers in King’s Landing.

Helaena’s face was radiant as she clapped her hands enthusiastically.

“This is so nice of Aemond,” she beamed, holding your hand so you would stand next to her. “Let me help you put in on.”

It was in moments like these that you thanked the Gods above that Princess Helaena was so often oblivious to the intentions of others. She thought her brother was simply showing courtesy, but that wasn’t the case.

Aemond was now resorting to luxurious gifts to have your attention and… more than that.

Panic took over you. “Absolutely not. I cannot accept it,” you vehemently said, sliding the necklace back inside its pouch. “I shall return it to him.”

The princess dropped her smile, but nodded. “It can be rather rude to return a gift, but I understand.”

Sweat coated the palms of your hands as you urged Helaena to ready herself, so you could join the rest of her family in the big hall.

You felt your mind not being able to focus properly on your tasks, and you almost tripped and fell. Twice.

“You need to be careful,” Helaena rushed to you before taking a look at your feet and crouching to pick up a spider. “You nearly stepped on it…”

As much as you had expected you would have gotten used to her odd antics, it never failed to amaze you how she’d much prefer the company of crawling bugs.

A last glance at the tall mirror and both of you walked out.

She laced her arm in yours, pulling you to her side, humming a joyful song as you paced along the poorly lit corridors.

One turn to the right, and you nearly collided with someone.

“I apologise!” you yelped upon realising who it was.

“Aemond!” Helaena greeted with enthusiasm. “Come with us.”

The young prince bowed curtly. “You both look delightful.”

“As do you,” you immediately whispered, not daring to fully look at him.

Not that you needed to. Aemond always presented himself impeccably, drawing the eyes of everyone he crossed paths with.

“Although…” he said, and you could feel his eye on you. “I do not see my gift on you, my lady.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you immediately let go of Helaena’s arm.

“Go right ahead, dear sister,” he said, offering a short smirk. “I am going to help her put it on.”

The joyful girl smiled widely and took her leave humming. "Precious stones are shared by loved ones."

Feeling your mouth go dry, you stood frozen in place, as he turned to face you.

Before he could speak, you reached for the pouch in your dress and extended your arm to him.

“I cannot accept this, Aemond.”

Silence.

He had his hands laced behind his back, his eye studying you, showing no intention of taking back what he had freely given to you.

After what seemed like too long, he spoke, “Why not?”

“It is beautiful, but I do not deserve it.”

He rose one eyebrow at you. “Are you questioning my judgment? If I see you fit of receiving such gift, then you only have to accept it.”

You licked your lips.

“I just don’t… understand why.”

In half a heartbeat, you had the young Targaryen prince pacing towards you until your back hit the wall behind.

His eye never left your face as he brought one hand to remove the eyepatch that he’d always wear around court so he wouldn’t scare off those around him, revealing the glistening sapphire in place of his left eye.

“Does this repulse you?”

“No,” you answered truthfully. “Never has.”

“This necklace…” he whispered, snatching the velvety pouch from you hand. “Is an extension of myself.”

“People will talk…” you said, as he held the shiny piece of jewelry in between you, the round sapphires casting a faint blue on his face.

“Then let them,” he replied calmly. “Let them know Prince Aemond Targaryen has made his claim.”

Your pulse quickened and you felt your mouth drop open at his statement.

“Let them see that when they look upon you, they look upon me,” he said, his face drawing near. “Let them know that if they question you, they will question me.”

He stood so close, you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips.

“Let them know that if they dare hurt you, they will face my wrath.”

Aemond had you pinned against the wall with the weight of his words. He was well versed enough to move mountains. And, if given the chance, he could certainly make love to his partner without touching them.

You swallowed hard, not knowing what to do with your hands, settling for gripping the sides of your dress, threatening to tear holes into the fabric from the friction.

His lips hovered yours, and you fought back the urge to kiss the young prince.

“There is more that draws us together than apart,” he carried on, eye roaming your face. “And I’ve had enough of fighting my desire to consume you.”

You were at a loss for words, but your body spoke in your stead. The throbbing between your legs, the pants, the sweat that pooled in your hands…

Gods… how you wished he’d take you right there and then.

Aemond brought his gift to your neck, nose nearly touching yours, breath stirring heavier pants from you. He only broke eye contact once secured it neatly against your flushed skin, and you watched his eye drop to your heaving breasts.

“So beautiful…” he murmured, tracing the sapphires that framed your chest with one finger, careful enough no to touch you directy.

It was pure torture.

He shifted slowly, placing his lips to your ear in a whisper. “You look positively delicious…”

You gasped from his words and from the pads of his fingers caressing your restrained breasts.

“I want to fuck you in nothing but that necklace.”

A moan escaped your throat. “Gods…”

“You worry others will talk about my gift,” he purred, tracing your neck with his breaths. “You should worry about hard I’m going to take you.”

The moment his lips touched your collarbone, you felt your walls clench desperately around nothing, wetness dripping from you, and letting you know your body was more than ready to accept his offer.

Another moan was heard from you when he pressed his thigh to your swollen clit, sending jolts of pleasure across your body.

He dragged his lips across your neck, jaw and then almost planted a kiss to your own lips, but leaned back, breaking contact with you.

At the sudden loss of warmth and intimacy, you gasped. “Aemond…”

An amused smirk tugged at his lips, as he placed his eyepatch back in place. “Now you know how it feels like not being able to take what you desire.”

Part 2

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd imagine

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mydemimonde · 4 months

Text

'Baby Said' — Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

divider is from @plutism

a/n: this idea came up after listening to 'baby said' by maneskin on loop, love them sm and that song too

Summary: After a few stolen glances and a drink, you walk up to the bar counter where the blonde man that caught your attention is sitting, looking for some fun.

Words: 4061

Warnings: +18 (minors dni), female reader, no use y/n nor specific physical description, desperate reader, swearing, dirty talk, a bit of choking, hand kink, praising, spitting, tiddy sucking, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slightly dominant aemond, overstim, riding, holy shit so many warnings let me know if i missed one! no proof reading

Strong hands grip your waist as soon as you step foot into the place, soft lips tracing your neck as you grind your ass against his crotch, earning a deep groan from him. He closes the door with his foot and turns your body around to face him, and before he could say anything, you press your lips against his, your hands running over his clothed chest.

He starts walking, pushing you to the nearest wall as your bodies press together. His lips part slightly, letting you slip your tongue inside, and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Your hands go all the way up until you get to his broad shoulders, wrapping your arms around him as his hands cupped your ass, making you moan into his mouth.

He pulls away just to attack your neck again, taking his time to kiss, lick and nibble your skin. He pays attention to one particular spot, the one that made you squirm and shiver, something he learned a few moments before. You curse under your breath, and you feel him smirk.

“Eager, are we?” He taunts you, his hand squeezing one of your ass cheeks as you grind against him again, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

“Aemond, please… no more teasing” you sigh, as if you were annoyed. His blue eyes examining your face, relishing your desperate state —heavy breathing, lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed and enticing eyes.

He brings his hand to your cheek to stroke it as the other one caresses your waist, his head tilted to the side as he smirks. “We have the whole night, baby. No need to hurry” he runs his thumb over your lower lip, your tongue darting out just a little. His eyes widen in surprise when your lips close over his finger, closing your eyes as you suck. When you look at him he’s licking his lips, leaning in again to kiss you passionately, slowly, as if your lips were fragile. The same way he kissed you earlier, in the middle of the dance floor.

It was the second mojito you had with your friends, celebrating that you finally graduated from college. Arianne, your friend from work and college, had suggested that you celebrate by going to the famous nightclub Sunfyre, which was located in one of the most expensive districts in King’s Landing.

So there you were, sitting with your friends around a small round table, the neon lights flickering with the rhythm of the music blasting from the speakers. It was Arianne’s turn to buy the drinks, but this time she went for vodka shots.

You cheered with your friends and at the count of three, you all knocked back the liquid, your eyes closing shut at the burning feeling in your throat. All of you clapped and hollered in celebration, unintentionally attracting the attention of some locals around you, but you actually didn’t care. All you wanted was to have a good time with your friends.

As you listened to one of your other friends Lena talking about some anecdote during her summer holidays, you couldn’t shake off the spine-chilling feeling that you were being watched. You pressed your lips together as your eyes scanned the crowded bar, until you found a pair of blue piercing eyes. A playful smirk adorned the man’s face as he looked at you, he was sitting on a stool leaning against the counter, his back turned to the bartender, legs spread. You’ve never thought that manspreading would look so sexy. You gave him a coy smile before turning your attention back to Lena’s story.

The music played loud in the background, people danced and grinded against each other on the dancefloor, your friends were telling funny anecdotes while you were on the fourth drink of the night and you could still feel the man’s piercing gaze on you. Surprisingly for you it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. It was great for your ego that a man like him was looking at you like that, as if he wanted to devour you. Both of you sneaked glances at each other, but neither of you made a move.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you whip your head around, as if you were caught doing something wrong. “What the hell are you looking at, hun?” Asked Arianne, almost screaming in your ear above the music. You pressed your lips as she squinted her eyes and looked around, trying to find what —or who— was stealing your attention from them. She gave you a sly grin, lightly slapping your arm repeatedly. “Hot stuff looking at you like you’re a full course meal. C’mon, go over there and talk to the guy! He looks expensive, he could be your sugar daddy” you giggled as she wiggled her eyebrows, taking a sip from her margarita.

What Arianne said was true, he looked rather expensive. His platinum hair combed to one side, clad in effortless style —a black t-shirt with the first two buttons casually undone, the sleeves rolled up revealing his forearms, a pair of dark jeans and polished shoes. You wanted nothing more but to feel his hands on you. Maybe that was the alcohol talking, maybe not. A long time passed since you’ve been properly fucked —your ex broke up with you two years ago, and after that you only had boring dates and bad hookups, leaving you with no other choice but to use your fingers and toys to get yourself off. You needed to get fucked, and this man looked like a good hookup.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, a waitress came up to you and left a drink on the table. You and your friends looked at one another in confusion. “Uhm, sorry, but we didn’t order this…” you pointed at the drink that was placed right in front of you.

“I know. An admirer sent it to you” the blonde woman winked at you and left, Arianne chuckling and the rest of the girls oohing at you. You shake your head and feel your cheeks burning, knowing exactly who sent it. Him.

“It’s a sex on the beach!” exclaimed Arianne. “He’s begging you, honey, and you haven’t had a good shag in a while” she raised an eyebrow at you. You jokingly rolled your eyes and grabbed the glass, turning your attention to the man at the counter, who was unsurprisingly looking at you. You raised the glass and he did the same, cheering with you in the air and at the distance, as he gave you a slight nod. Both of you took a sip of your respective beverages, keeping eye contact.

You placed the glass back on the table, stirring your drink with the straw as you thought about what to do next, the alcohol making you feel more courageous to do something and Arianne’s words ringing in your head. “Hey, mind if I leave you for a bit? ‘M gonna talk to that guy” you got off the stool and point at the counter with a movement of your head, your friends making high-pitched sounds of victory at your decision.

“Go get that dick!” Whispered-shouted Lena, Arianne hitting the table repeatedly. You blew them a kiss and grabbed your sex on the beach, strutting down to the guy. As soon as he saw you his smirk got wider and he sat straighter, looking at you like you were his prey.

“Hi there” you said as you sat in the stool next to him, the short dress you were wearing hiking up your thigh just a little bit.

“Hey. Enjoying the night?” His voice was deep and smooth, making you feel all sorts of things in your stomach. He moved so that he was facing you, his forearm resting on the counter.

You nodded. “Yeah. Graduation and all, quite the occasion to celebrate.”

He lifted an eyebrow, eyes examining your figure. “Oh? Congratulations, then. Cheers.” He replied and again, raised his cup to toast with you. You smiled at him and your glasses clinked. You drank and then, he brought a hand to his chest, as if he was apologising. “Sorry if I seemed too forward by inviting you for a drink. Didn’t dare to interrupt your conversation with your friends when you were so into it... didn't seem fair to steal you from them.”

Now it was your turn to smile. You turned your body towards him too, resting one arm on the counter and crossing your legs. “It’s okay. I was actually going to talk to you, eventually. My friends were insisting.”

He chuckled in response. “Well, thank your friends for me. I’m Aemond Targaryen.” Targaryen… the surname did ring a bell. You introduced yourself as well, and both began talking, enjoying each other’s company. He was leaning over you more and more with each passing minute, and when his fingers grazed over your arm you felt electric shocks all over your body, his gaze on you was so intense you could barely form any coherent thought. He was so close that you could smell his cologne, something spicy and leathery, utterly intoxicating.

“Would you like to dance?” He suggested, narrowing his eyes.

“Of course” he stood up and offered you his hand, which you gladly took. You noticed how tall he was, towering over you and making you feel small. You led him to the middle of the dance floor, and on the way there, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friends watching you two, proud smiles on their faces.

When you got there your body started moving to the rhythm of the music, feeling Aemond’s hands on your waist as you danced. Your bodies were pressed together amidst the sea of people, feeling his breath on your neck as he moved with you. Feeling bold you started grinding against his body, bringing one hand up to place it on the nape of his neck, his hands lightly squeezing the flesh of your waist. The place was getting more and more crowded; the lights flickering and the fake smoke coming from the fog machines were making it harder to see clearly.

His eyes lowered to your lips when you turned to face him, he started leaning in slowly until his nose nudged against yours. You closed your eyes as you felt his soft lips moving against yours, tenderly yet passionately. His hands cupped your face as his tongue explored your mouth, cocking his head to the side. No one’s ever kissed you like that, he was such a good kisser.

Your hands found their way around his slim waist, the kiss was getting more and more intense that you had to pull back for a moment to catch your breaths. If it weren’t for that, you would still be kissing him nonstop. Aemond took the opportunity to leave soft pecks along your jaw, going down the side of your neck until he sucked on a particular spot that made you throw your head back and whine. It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by people —they were engrossed in dancing and drinking, it’s not like they were looking at you—. You just wanted him.

As if he could read your mind, he looked at you. “Shall we get out of here?”

And that’s how you ended up in the apartment of this stranger, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, feeling his erection on your thigh as he hiked up your dress to feel your skin. Aemond pulls back just to kiss your neck again, it’s like he’s addicted to that part of your body. He grabs your legs and picks you up so easily, you wrap your legs around his waist as he starts moving to find a more comfortable place.

You finally get to unbutton his shirt, running your hands all over the visible skin. He isn’t ripped like the guys at the gym, but you can tell that he certainly works out. He almost trips on the way to his bed, chuckling at the way your hands shake when you start unbuckling his jeans. “Fuck, you’re really desperate, huh?” He deposits you on the comfortable bed, looking at him as he takes off his shirt, your breathing heavy when he unbuckles his jeans, getting rid of them quickly, his cock straining against his white boxers.

Aemond grabs you by the ankles and drags you towards him, making you yelp. He lifts one of your legs to undo the straps of your stilettos, and as he does the same with the other you prop up on your arms to take a moment to appreciate him. His tousled hair, his knitted brows in concentration, his slightly parted lips, his long, aquiline nose and the small and almost invisible freckles adorning his shoulders.

When he’s done he hovers over you, arms on either side of your body as he leans in for another kiss. He’s positioned in between your legs and brings one hand to your chest, cupping your right breast over the dress. You whine in his mouth and he smirks. “I love those little sound you make for me… makes me wonder how you would sound when I-”

“Aemond, shut up and fuck me already” you interrump him in an irritated and desperate tone, catching him by surprise. He stares at you, mouth agape before grinning.

“Relax baby, I’m gonna do just that, but… you’re too dressed for my liking” his fingers start pulling the straps of your dress down. He lets out a gasp when he sees you naked, except for your lacy black panties. He stares at your tits and bites his lip, fingers pinching your nipples. “You’ve got beautiful tits, baby.” He immediately takes one of them in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the pebbled nipple, making you throw your head back and whine, your fingers tangling in his hair.

You grind your hips against his, trying to get some friction on your aching cunt. You’re sure you’re dripping by now, he’s got you like that since the moment he laid eyes on you. Aemond moves his hand down your body while he continues sucking on your nipple. When he finally gets to the place you needed him most, both of you release a moan.

“Fuck, you’re soaking wet.” Aemond says in a low and raspy voice when his fingertips meet the wet spot in your underwear. He kisses every inch of your skin before getting in between your legs and slides down your panties, pleased with the view of your glistening entrance. He traces two of his fingers along your slit, feeling your arousal coating them. “You’re fucking dripping on my fingers, baby. Hmm, the things I could do to this sweet pussy.”

You moan at his filthy words, breath heavy as you watch him kiss and nibble your inner thighs before giving your pussy a tentative lick, eyes set on you, revelling in the way you writhe and whine. Your hands tug at his hair instinctively as he gently sucks on your clit, then he licks the length of your cunt, his grunts sending vibrations all over you.

“Oh, f-fuck, yes” you squeal, eyes closed shut as he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you eagerly, his nose rubbing expertly against your bud. He pushes you down with his arm when you start bucking your hips, preventing you from moving as he keeps feasting on your cunt. “Don’t— s-stop!” You gasp, back arching as pleasure invades your senses, the band in your stomach growing tighter.

“Y’ gonna cum, pretty girl?” Aemond murmurs around your clit, a small huff leaving his lips when your thighs wrap around his head, pulling him even closer. “C’mon baby, lemme hear you. Cum all over my mouth” He coaxes before sucking your clit again, swirling his tongue around the bud as you fall apart on his tongue, whines and high-pitched moans spilling past your lips. “Atta girl” he praises you as you try to recover from the mindblowing orgasm he gave you. He doesn’t stop sucking at your folds, the erotic slurping noises of his mouth making you blush, licking every single drop of your arousal. Aemond wipes his chin, coated in your juices, and hovers over you again, covering your face with kisses. “You taste divine, pretty girl. You did so good for me.”

He brings his arm above your head, fingers playing with your hair while his other hand gently squeezes your cheeks. “Open” you do as told and he spits in your mouth, you gladly swallow before he kisses you. You moan into his mouth when you feel his index and middle fingers tease your wet entrance. He pulls back to watch your reactions as he slides them in, gingerly moving them, curling them and reaching the rough patch inside you, making you gasp. He smirks. “That’s the spot, hmm?” Aemond finger fucks you, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw. You breathe heavily, feeling another orgasm already building. “Fuck, can feel you squeezing my fingers, love. Let go, pretty girl.” His jaw drops open as he watches you come, groaning when he feels your cunt clenching around his fingers. Your lips form a perfect O shape, eyes closed shut and legs trembling. “You look so pretty when you cum, baby.”

When you open your eyes you find Aemond staring at you, a soft smile adorning his face. “There she is,” she caresses your cheek and you chuckle, bringing one of your hands to his boxers. He gulps when you start palming him, feeling how hard he is. He gets rid of his boxers and his cock springs out, the tip already leaking precum. You’ve never seen such a nice cock in your life, all you want to do is put your mouth on it. He reads your mind, once again. “You can suck me another day, all I want now is to bury my cock inside you. Is that okay, pretty girl?” You nod eagerly and sit on the bed, pushing him onto the mattress as you straddle him, taking him by surprise. “Well, well, well.” He chuckles darkly, feeling your hands travel all over his chest and abdomen. He reaches out for a condom in the drawer next to his bed, but you stop him.

“I’m okay without. I’m clean and on the pill, I really want to feel you” you bite your lip, hoping he says yes. Aemond smirks, telling you he’s clean as well, and you lean in for a tender, passionate kiss. You move one hand to grab him, slowly guiding him into your entrance. Both of you let out breathy moans when the tip slides in your wet cunt, stretching you.

“Holy s-shit” Aemond’s head is thrown back, jaw clenched and hands on either side of your hips, his fingers digging in. When you sink down onto him completely, you stay there for a moment, trying to adjust to his size. Your nails rake down his chest and he whines, eyes sweeping over your figure. His hands also travel through your body, up your thighs until he reaches your breasts, gently squeezing them. His hands are big, you noticed.

You start moving up and down his length, moaning and whimpering and head thrown back. “You feel so good, Aemond. Fuck” you murmur, bouncing on his cock. You feel him curse under you, his hips meeting yours in every thrust, filling you to the brim. You let out a particularly high-pitched moan when he brings one hand to your throat.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Aemond rasps, licking his lips before applying more pressure, slightly choking you as you continue moving, increasing your pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the feeling of his hands wrapped around your throat, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. “God, you’re squeezing so deliciously, sweet girl. Y’ gonna cum all over my cock, hmm?”

“Oh my God, yes, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You say through strangled moans, cunt clenching around him as you come, collapsing on his chest. He immediately wraps his arms around you as he keeps thrusting up into you, not letting you rest. He flips both of you over, fucking you slowly. You sob when his thumb circles over your sensitive bud, trying to squirm away. “T-too much, please.”

Aemond cocks his head and frowns. “Can’t take another one, huh? I thought you wanted me to fuck you, pretty girl.” He taunts, voice trembling as he ruts into you. You grasp onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and tears welling up in your eyes from the amount of pleasure and overstimulation you were receiving. “You can give me another one, baby, c’mon. I know you can” he coos, kissing and nibbling your neck.

He watches with a wicked grin as your mouth hangs open, whines and moans escaping and eyes fluttering when the head of his cock repeatedly hits your sweet spot. “Fucking come, baby, soak my cock.” Aemond commands. The squelching sounds of your cunt while he fucks you together with his praises and moans are enough to make the knot in your stomach finally snap. You moan his name loudly, your legs shaking around his waist.

In the back of your head, you hear Aemond grunting and growling, the sounds he makes are distant over the blood rushing through your ears; but you notice his thrusts becoming sloppier and his cock twitching inside you. “Fuck, fuck, baby, I’m gonna- fucking gonna cum.” That’s what brings you back to your senses, you open your heavy lidded eyes and watch him come. With a few more thrusts he spills himself inside you, coating your walls in warm spend. You’ve never seen nor heard someone come so beautifully, the sight was enough to make you let out a small moan.

His lips were parted, brows knitted together and body shaking above you. Aemond rests his head in the crook of your neck as you try to come down from your highs, embracing each other. You stay like that for a moment before he moves his head to look at you, small drops of sweat trickling down his forehead. You smile at him and close the distance by placing your lips on his, kissing him sensually.

After the make out session, Aemond pulls out of you slowly, hissing at the loss of contact. You bite your lip when you feel his cum leaking out of your pussy, he gathers it and presses it back slowly before giving a kiss to your centre.

He goes to the bathroom and brings wet cloths to clean you up, being careful not to hurt you. When both of you are done, he hands you your panties. You look too tired to stand up, but you know you have to go. After all, it was just a one night stand, and you have to work tomorrow.

“You can stay the night, if you want” Aemond suggests after putting on his boxers. He can really read your mind, it’s kinda creepy, you think. “I mean, it’s too late to go back to your apartment, plus there’s a storm coming.” He presses his lips, as if telling you that you had no choice but to stay.

After weighing your options, you decide to stay. He grins and hands you one of his t-shirts, so that you don’t have to sleep in your dress —or naked. You put it on, smelling the clean fabric and lie down on the comfy mattress, covering yourself with the soft sheets. Aemond lies next to you, and after wishing each other good night, you drift off to sleep.

The next morning, Aemond wakes up to the sound of his annoying alarm. He runs his hands over his face, and looks around the room when he doesn’t find you. A small yellow post it note on top of his drawer catches his attention. He reads it and smiles. You left your phone number and your name below.

“Thanks for an amazing night. Text me if you want to grab some coffee or if you want to do it again ;)”

taglist: @melsunshine @tsujifreya @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #modern aemond targaryen #modern aemond targaryen smut #hotd #hotd smut #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fic #mydemimondewrites

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aemondsladywife · 1 year

Text

His Lady Wife

aemond targaryen x reader

author's note: eek this is my first angst fic and i have no idea if its good so please leave comments and feedback!! its very loosely based off othello with ofc aemond as othello and the reader as desdemona. this can be read alongside my other aemond x reader but also can be read alone!! i am working on part two for my other aemond x reader but i'm struggling w ideas so please drop me a message if you have any!! also please comment if you'd like to be added to my aemond x reader taglist <3

genre: very angsty, prepare for tears

the love between aemond and his dear wife would be in the history books one day, he was sure of it. there would be songs, poems and ballads written about the ardent love between them. a love which their great, great grandchildren would aspire to have. their love was refreshing in the court, all the other marriages were ones of duty but theirs was one of love.

that was until everything tumbled down. when you first became with child, you were estatic, you ran to tell your husband, who was over the moon. however, rumours had spread of your infidelity, that you had laid with one of the knights of the kingsguard and that you were pregnant with a bastard. at first, aemond didn't believe it, his beloved wife would never do such a thing. but he started to let his self doubt overcome his love for you.

"have you seen the knight? he's a far better swordsman and far better looking than the prince, you can't blame the princess."

aemond became overcome with jealousy and insecurity. it made sense to him, why would someone as perfect as you be with something as blemished as him.

then there was the stocking incident. one of your stockings, with your initials on it was found where the kingsguard trained which led everyone, including king aegon and prince aemond to believe you to be unfaithful.

you were walking in the gardens when you saw your husband. you had a smile on your face whilst your husband barely made eye contact with you. "what is it my love, you have been ignoring me?" you asked with concern evident in your voice.

"do not call me your love when you are carrying anothers bastard." aemond replied sharply.

"you do not believe the rumours? do you? aemond i love you, you know that? please don't do this." you took a step back and could feel your voice falter.

"i have arranged for our chambers to be separated. your maids will know where it is they will take you. the king was ready to have you killed but your family are needed." he said quickly and walked straight past you. it hurt him to see that he hurt you. he wanted to go back and apologise but his pride and insecurity got the better of him.

being isolated took a toll on you and your pregnancy. you were struggling greatly with no husband or friends in court other than your handmaid who you appreciated greatly. you saw how your mother was when she was pregnant and she wasn't anywhere near as unwell as you were. you were going to send a letter to your parents asking for their guidance but decided against it, you didn't want your father to storm down kings landing. breakfast, lunches and dinners you would spend alone in your small chambers as your husband refused to be in the same room as you, which hurt you greatly. you loved aemond so dearly, you went for spending to everyday together to months apart. most days you would spend weeping in your chambers praying to the gods for any form of relief. you preferred staying in your chambers than walking around court. you would recieve stares, looks and laughs from everyone around. it broke your heart, you had good relationships with everyone, with alicent, otto, daeron, haleana and even aegon, who would refer you to as his "good sister". now they don't even look in your direction.

it was his nephews nameday celebrations which hurt you the most. you played the role of the perfect wife, in the perfect relationship which almost had you believing that aemond was still in love with you, that was until he whispered in your ear that it was all a pretence.

but that didn't stop you from loving him. though you wished it did, maybe it would hurt less if you didn't love him anymore. at whatever opportunity to ask about his wellbeing you would, you even went as far as asking his mistress, who took pity on you and kept you updated. you still prayed for his health every night and prayed that the mother would take pity on your soul and relieve you of the pain.

although aemond was smart, he wasn't as smart as his grandfather, the hand. otto had his doubts regarding the infidelity rumours he had his child spies keep tabs all over westeros and after eight months of digging, he found the truth.

"speak up boy, tell the king what you heard"

the young boy bowed to the king before the hand's spy told the council what he heard,

"the rumours regarding the princess' infidelity were created by daemon and his old whore."

aemond looked up in shock, he felt his blood boil as he held the arm of his seat tighter.

"it was said that daemon knew the easiest way to seperate the greens was through his "fickle nephew" and that once word of the princesses disrespect reached the riverlands, they would switch alleigances to the blacks."

an uncomfortable silence hung the room. all eyes were on aemond who felt a mixture of anger, guilt and distraught. he spent the past 8 months slighting and hurting his chaste lady wife. the king knew his brother well enough to know how his mind was racing,

"i promise you brother we will take down the blacks. you will be the one to take our wretched uncle yourself i swear this to you brother."

once again silence befell the room. aemonds face was unreadable. the council sat in fear of his reaction as his mother held his hand in hopes to calm him down.

"eight months. for the past eight months my lady wife has been with child with my child and i have not spent a single day with her. the lady wife who loved me so loyally has spent eight months confined to a chamber not fit for a princess because of that pathetic cunt. no, his death would not satisfy me. i need more." the calmness in aemond's voice evoked a deep fear in the room. daemon's doing caused aemond's beloved to suffer at his own hand, they all knew that aemond would not rest until she was avenged. "as for now i need to see my lady wife."

as aemond got up from his seat, a maester and midwife covered in blood, sweat and tears entered. the only lady pregnant was his wife. his heart dropped. this couldn't be happening.

"your graces. the princess entered her labours a moon early-"

before the maester could even finish, aemond ran out of the room and straight to his wifes pathetic excuse of a chamber as fast as his legs could take him with ser criston his mother, grandfather and both his brothers close behind him. when he saw the limp body of his once beloved wife he fell to his knees.

"no, no, no. wake up my love, my love please. my love i am so sorry. please no my sweet girl come back to me, open your eyes once more, you do not need to forgive me my love, i will spend the rest of eternity at your feet please just come back to me. i was wrong my love, i'm so so sorry." he cradled her dead body, begging for her to awaken, praying to every and any god to bring his sweet girl back to him. he was overcome with guilt and anguish, the last memory he had with her ended with her heart shattering.

it was two months ago. you had a feeling that something was wrong with you or your babe but none of the maesters in court believed a word you had to say since the rumours.

"please aemond just listen to me for a second, i need to see the maesters in my fathers home, they will know what to do, they saved my mother once before." you begged aemond as you trailed after him with abnormal aches in your body.

"why? so you can run off to your father with that bastard and face no consequences? no you will stay him and have that bastard here and face punishment from the king himself." there was no mercy in aemond voice or gaze. he saw the way your face and body crumpled. his words cut deeper than any blade and you couldn't hide it. he felt a pang of guilt in his heart but he pushed it aside.

aemond felt the bile rising in his throat after remembering his last encounter with you. gods he would do anything to turn back time and fix things. he was so fixated on ignoring and avoiding you that all good memories of you were distant.

"i do not remember the sound her voice mother. i do not remember the sound of the voice that spent countless nights whispering sweet nothings to ail my troubled mind. i do not remember the delicate touch of the lady who dedicated herself to comforting me." aemond confessed with a heavy heart, staring and clutching on to his wife's cold body.

"please aemond do not do this to yourself-"

"do what mother? torture myself? torture myself as i tortured my wife? as if carrying a babe was not torture enough, i tortured her even further by abandoning her when she needed me the most. she had no one apart from her one handmaiden and tis no ones fault but my own. how could i doubt her? how could i be so foolish? the last time we spoke, she insisted that something was wrong with her or the babe and i ignored her. i killed her mother."

"yes, yes you did my lord." spoke up your handmaiden with your newborn daughter sleeping soundly in her arms.

"you can cut my tongue, kill me do whatever you like with me, my loyalties are not with you but the the princess whos blood is on your hands. she loved you so dearly, yet you turned on her with no hesitation after hearing baseless rumours. her father was ready to have his men pledge alliegance to the blacks after hearing your treatment towards his only daughter but she told her father that it was all lies spread by the blacks and that you still loved her. she prayed to the gods everyday that once the babe was born and you would see how that it is your trueborn child you would love her once more. but now she is longer with us and she died with a broken heart."

as ser criston drew his sword ready to cut the throat of the maid, the prince piped up,

"leave her be ser criston. she said no word of lie. no harm should come to the only lady who stood by my beloved's side when she was alone. i am in debt to her. you are free to leave my lady, i will ensure all provisions are made for you."

"as kind as your offer is my prince, i promised the princess that in case of her untimely death, i would remain beside her daughter until her eighteenth nameday and to hand you this letter." aemond looked up for the first time since he entered the cursed chambers as your handmaid passed the baby to his mother

"i have a daughter?" his voice trembled. you both always dreamed of having a daughter and whilst he wanted his youngest child to a girl, you wanted the eldest to be a girl. but that dream was now thwarted.

alicent choked back a sob as she cradled the tiny baby in her arms. "she's tiny aemond. she has your targaryen hair and eyes but she is her mother through and through."

he was lost for words. he couldn't fight it anymore as he began to sob as he cradled your body just the way his mother cradled his babe.

"read the letter out loud my lady. i treated my wife terribly there is nothing left to hide."

your handmaid was hesitant at first but read your last letter to your husband out loud.

"my dearest husband, dear husband,

you recieve this letter due to my untimely death but our child lives on. i do not know if this is news is joyous for you or one of regret but please do not take your hatred for me out on our child. i know our child will look like you as i have never laid with another but i am unsure to if you will ever believe me.

when you remarry and have other babes of your own, ensure that they all love one another and that their stepmother loves them the same. if you cannot ensure this, send our child to my parents, where they will be cherished.

please remember the love we once shared and share that love with our babe. i know that you may not want to to keep the portraits of us and of myself, but i beg of you to do so, even if its just one of myself. i would like for our child to know what their mother looked like. regardless of what happened between us, it hurts to say that i still love you as i did when i first fell in love with you. i hoped it wouldn't end like this but the gods work in mysterious ways.

your lady wife."

no one could hold back their tears. aemond knew the letter would hurt him, but knowing that she died thinking that he hated her, that he would remarry and that he may even celebrate her death killed him. he thought that the stranger visiting him would be less painful than what he was feeling at that moment.

"leave me be, i would like to say goodbye to my wife alone."

as he gazed upon her sleeping face, it set in to him that he would never wake up to her again. he would never hear her laughter again. he would never see her smile again. he pushed her hair back behind her ear as he used and pressed his forehead against hers. he could no longer fight the tears as his voice broke whilst speaking to you one last time,

"how could i ever hate you, my perfect girl? you have been nothing but good to me. you, who showed me what love is, you who made this pointless life worth living, how could i celebrate your depature. i love you my sweet girl. i love you so so much. and how could you think i would ever remarry, my darling? you captured my heart and now you've taken it to the grave with you. i cannot explain how sorry i am, gods i hope somewhere somehow you can hear me. i pray that the gods punish me for the way i hurt you. i allowed my anger, jealousy and doubt get the better of me. i was a fool to not trust you. you shouldn't be here. you shouldn't be like this in my arms, we should be in bed, choosing names for our babe who shouldn't have been born yet. who looks just like you by the way. she's the only reason why i'm still here. for her. for you. i will tell her the stories of her one of a kind mother, i pray to the gods she'll be just like you. i will have even more paintings comissioned of us, of you my angel, anything you desire. until next time, my dearest lady wife, i love you."

as aemond laid her cold body down back on the bed, tucked her in and kissed her one last time, he found a small box under her pillows. it was covered in blood from her labors but it was still wrapped like a gift nonetheless. he opened to find 3 matching necklaces. one fit for a man. one fit for a woman. and one fit for a baby girl. all with a sapphire in the middle.

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endless-ineffabilities · 5 months

Text

Maroon (part four)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

And I lost you The one I was dancin' with In New York, no shoes Looked up at the sky and it was maroon

A series loosely based on the song Maroon of off Midnights by Taylor Swift ▪︎ read more Daemon & Aemond midnights imagines here: masterlist

series list: part one - part two - part three - part four - part five -

themes/warnings: jealous!Aemond, language, a LOT of tension, very event-heavy

word count: 11.4k

The Dragonstone ball is here. Will the reader and Aemond finally reconcile, or will things stand in the way? Again.

It had been eleven days of bliss.

Eleven days since Aemond visited you in the bookstore, and you found him waiting for you at the corner table, perfectly illuminated like some mythical Valyrian god.

Eleven days since he confessed his feelings for you, asked you to be his partner to the Dragonstone Ball.

Afterward, he had started picking you up from lectures, taking you to places around the city, visiting you more frequently, shadowing you when you spend time with Helaena, to which she would simply roll her eyes and jest about being a “third wheel.”

You found yourselves in their secluded estate an hour away from the city, sitting in the clearing of a beautiful lush field overgrown with blue lupines and marigolds.

By then you still had not gotten accustomed to being with Aemond. Your heart still skipped each time your hands touched, and he gazed at you with longing.

You had come to realize just how good and proper of a lover he can be. He was careful not to overstep any line, not to take things too fast. You know you’re not experienced in this kind of thing, either. A connection so real. Something like that cursed four-letter L word that the both of you had managed to avoid when it comes to crushes, dating, romantic relationships in general.

He sat on the green-and-black gingham blanket that he previously laid down on the grass in a flourish. You had giggled when the wind threatened to whip it over his head.

“Laugh it up, darling.” He playfully glared at you, which didn’t do much to quell your laughter. Aemond watched on, feeling warm at the sight.

You watched him, studying as the outline of the side of his face eclipses the sunlight in the horizon.

He has no idea, does he?

He seemed oblivious to your staring, until he suddenly spoke, still keeping his gaze trained forward to the trees, “I’m glad I have your full attention.”

You were certain all the blood rushed to your cheeks at his remark, but you scoffed, and playfully shoved him. He was caught off guard, and failed to prop himself upright in time.

He shot you a glare as he brushed himself off. Without any warning, he wiggles his fingers against your side, making you audibly yelp in surprise.

The bastard fucking tickled me.

“You did not just…”

“Oh, but I did, darling.” Aemond nodded slowly, taunting you.

You raised your hand to retaliate, but that didn’t work. Because in a flash of movement, Aemond grabbed your forearm and then your waist.

And then, you found yourself underneath him, lying back on the mat. His halo of white-gold hair framing his face as he hovers above you, glowing brighter than the fading sunlight.

When his lips met yours, you realized that there truly were moments in life when time stands still. When everything is reduced to a humming of heartbeats in sync, and of someone else's warmth against you.

When his blue eyes blazed into your own, you thought that maybe… just maybe… that was what it was like to be in love.

-----------------------

Love, love, love. What is it really good for? Aemond has seen people fall apart because of it, suffer in spite of it.

He is quite sure that his mother has grown to love his father, despite theirs being a marriage of convenience. This is why she continues to care for him, and turns her cheek at any wrong done to her.

Aemond has been on the receiving end of his mother's love, more so than his siblings. But sometimes he wonders if this is borne out of obligation and instinct. Would she still love him if he wasn't her only doting son - with Aegon never in the picture, and Daeron having grown indifferent to family affairs?

Does his mother truly see him, for all that he is, or does she see some idealized version of herself? One that she puts on a pedestal? Her golden child who has the chance to attain what she never could.

There are times when Aemond fears that he does feel love himself, or not the truest form of it, at least. Sure, he loves his family. But is it also due to an uncontrollable pull of the heart, or simply out of duty? Does he feel like he needs to love them, being of the same blood? Has he just gotten used to being the binding force among his siblings, shepherding them like he actually is the eldest child? Do they even love him in turn? Certainly not with the same ferocity, Aemond knows, but in their own way? Most times, he finds it hard to tell.

It’s all like a game. They are all pieces on a chess board, playing a match that has no end. Moves and countermoves - isn’t this all that love is? Do something for them, protect them, as they will do for you. It is ultimately the right thing to do.

But with you, Aemond knows it’s different. It has been, since you stumbled into his life. He never felt the need to maintain a sense of devotion. Never really gave it much thought, or any planning. It was just there. Out of the blue. Much to his surprise, and not without hesitation.

He did not understand what it was at first. You certainly did not need him. Did not ask anything of him. He saw how you approached him with no expectation. He was never Aemond Targaryen, Prince of the City, to you.

Only Aemond. Your best friend’s mildly sullen yet cordial brother.

And you, well… you were just a passing fancy. Not bad to look at, pleasant enough to talk to.

Until you weren’t just that.

There were times when Aemond feared that did not feel love himself.

Until you.

And you became everything.

-----------------------

3 hours before the Dragonstone ball

Alicent has been walking in a flurry all over the penthouse, her bluetooth earpiece buzzing constantly. Having final consultations with event coordinators, on-site production staff, caterers, florists, and security staff, among others.

Talia trails her all around the vast living room, prepared to give a helping hand.

“Yes, yes, that was the one that I asked for, I don’t know why I have to clarify this again,” Alicent seethes, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking up at the ceiling in her frustration. The caller’s rushed apologies echo from her earpiece.

Her youngest son walks past her, an ascot tie loosely hanging around his neck.

“Daeron!” Alicent grabs him by the arm. “Are you all settled? Have you finally gone through options with the tailor?”

“Yes, mother,” Daeron cheekily sneers at Alicent’s worried expression. “I’ve just chosen which necktie I’ll be wearing, as you can see here. Just went down to get something to eat. Do try to relax, would you?”

“What about your brother? Please tell me he has had his suit vetted.”

Daeron replies, “I assume you mean Aemond, since Aegon will probably turn up in something ridiculous, like an inflatable dragon costume.”

Alicent scoffs before responding dryly, “If he actually does that, I just might consider sending him to the Silent Sisters institute.”

Daeron shrugs, “Best keep the family doctor close by, then. Oh, and Aemond’s all prepped since last week! You know him. Mr. Stickler-for-rules with a stick right up his a - ”

“Daeron!” Alicent exclaims.

“Alright, alright, I’m kidding!” Daeron puts his hands up, laughing. He turns on his heel and strolls down the hallway.

“My children,” Alicent sighs, sharing a look with Talia, who smiles knowingly in response. “Whatever will I do with them?”

“Oh, what will you do without them, ma’am?” Talia offers.

Alicent hums in acknowledgement. She feels as if the lines on her face have deepened the past few months, though they’ve long made themselves evident, due to all her ceaseless worrying about Aemond's condition and all this commotion about the ball. But what else is there to do?

She removes her earpiece and places it on Talia’s awaiting palm.

“Are you alright, ma’am? Do you need some refreshments, perhaps?” Talia asks.

“I need…” Alicent sighs, preparing herself for the task to come. “I need to go see my son.”

“He isn’t here at the moment, ma’am.” Talia shuffles from one foot to the other, a force of habit when having to share something that may induce more stress to Alicent. “He left for his apartment at Blackwater Residences last night. He has requested that everything he needs for the ball be sent to him there.”

“And I was not informed of this because?” Alicent inquires, her mask of composure remaining. Aemond used to be the one she would run to first, should she need anything. Her confidante. Her dutiful son. And he’s always been comfortable enough to keep her in the loop about his affairs.

But not lately. Not since the accident. Her son has rebuilt the impenetrable wall around him, and she has not been allowed access inside.

“Well, you’ve been very busy, ma’am. And Sir Aemond really didn’t tell anyone, he just informed me so that I may relay the message as I should.”

Alicent sighs in finality, “Fine. That’s fine. Have we made sure that his partner for the ball is in line? That model… uhhm, Alys, was it?”

“Yes, ma’am, she has made all the necessary preparations. And she is already aware of the regulations to follow, as she has attended the ball with Sir Aemond before.”

A question remains in Alicent’s mind. “You alluded once to something going on between Aemond and Helaena’s friend. The one who’s studying at the local university? I had thought that she would be his partner…” She trails off, remembering the one time she crossed paths with you. It was one evening in the penthouse, her kids and a number of their acquaintances sitting around a big round table of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. She only came round for a moment to retrieve something from her office, lingering in the foyer with Talia to get some documents in order.

She noticed you because you were sitting across the table from Aemond, who had been sneaking looks at you the entire night. Aemond clearly thought no one would notice, but if anyone would, it would be Alicent.

Aemond has always been the most stoic of her sons, the least likely to wear his heart on his sleeve. But she saw, plain as day, that he was drawn to you.

Her son fancied you, but has something changed? As for Alys, Alicent has never been her biggest fan when it came to Aemond. Their age gap is not her favourite thing, but how can Alicent claim to be a judge on that matter when the man she married is 11 years older than her? She’s chosen to set that aside, but the Rivers model has struck her as highly self-regarding and standoffish.

Alicent would never admit it to herself, but perhaps the main reason why she dislikes Alys Rivers is that she sees part of herself in her. What she might have devolved into if she hadn’t married for power and privilege at a young age. Alicent, Alys. The latter being a recreational drug-addled, provocative social climber who Alicent doesn't think is good for her son.

Talia dithers on her response. Who can explain what is going on in Aemond’s mind after all? It is clear that the attraction remains, but his actions are all over the place. “As I gathered, ma’am, he did ask her. But… and I am not sure why, he ended up asking Miss Alys instead. Which is a downright shame, if I may add. She is really a sweet young girl. She and Miss Helaena dote on each other.”

“A shame, indeed,” Alicent hums. She begins walking down the hallway, Talia in tow, who then adds, “She will still be at the ball, though, ma’am. As Sir Jacaerys’ partner.”

Alicent’s brows furrow, and a grimace flashed across her face on instinct. “Got a Strong pup, has she?”

“They’re close friends - ”

“So I’m not certain what’s been going about, but my son likes her… or used to like her. But now he’s coming with Alys, and she’s coming with Jace?” Alicent spins on her heel, huffing out her confusion, her fiery auburn hair whipping around her. Regarding Talia whilst shaking her head, she exclaims, “Quite the handful this ball is turning out to be, and isn’t that just exactly what I need?”

-----------------------

Alys Rivers rarely does her own makeup, preferring the ease of having a glam team on call 24/7.

But as she deftly applies medical-grade concealer on Aemond’s scar, her hands pat and press with a practiced ease of someone who had to do her own makeup on public buses at the age of 16, sneaking off to castings without telling her foster parents.

She huffs with impatience from her stool. “Could you keep your expression neutral, dear? I dunno why you look like you’re in pain.”

Aemond responds in a cold voice, “Why, do you find that this is something I should enjoy, dearest? You’re smattering something on my face to make me look presentable. I’m allowed to react in a manner of my choosing. My sincere apologies if it’s not acceptable for you.”

“That’s not what I meant at all.” Alys drops her hand, frustration clear on her face. “Look, I can see that you don’t want to come to the ball.” She packs on more product on the brush in a rapid motion.

“Oh, is that your input?” Aemond mumbles, disinterested. He simply wishes he had placed his glass of firewine within reach.

“Yes, that is my input,” Alys snaps in return. When her brush meets Aemond’s face again, she does it with less care and more impatience. “If you’re not going to be civil to me, then you should have accepted the help of the makeup artist your mother assigned - ”

“I won’t have some fucking stranger’s hands all over my - ”

“I know!” Alys emphasizes, her exasperation growing evident. “Which is why I’m here. Which is why I agreed to help when you asked. I - ” She stops working, leaning back, her shoulders stooped in her frustration. “I only want to help you, Aemond. I care about you. You know this.”

Aemond finally looks at the woman sitting in front of him. Appraising her irate expression, which he had caused. “I did not want this. This… concealment of my scar was my mother’s idea, to keep up appearances - ”

“Oh, I know - ”

“I don’t know how you expect me to be, Alys, considering - ”

Alys stands abruptly, walking away to look out the window. “Aemond, this has been going on even before that godforsaken accident.”

Aemond sighs deeply, wanting to be anywhere else but in the room. Only that isn’t true, he wouldn’t want to just anywhere else.

He wants to be with you.

Alys continues, “It all started that night when I visited you and you sent me away. Next thing I know there’s been whispers of you going around with some random girl.” She does not mention you by name. It’s better not to give you that power. She doesn’t need Aemond’s attention to drift any further from her than it already has.

She has not been blind to the switch in his demeanour, having been on the brunt end of his anger one too many times. He still maintains his impeccable sense of decorum and tact most of the time, but she can easily tell that it's only for show.

She once felt Aemond’s eyes on her, with some form of desire. Whatever he is capable of mustering, at least, even if it was never enough for Alys. At least she had hope that it could turn into something more. She can change him. Make him fall in love with her. But now, it’s like he sees straight through her. Only calling on her when absolutely necessary. Like this very moment.

“Hmm.” Aemond looks to the side. He feels the weight of the product Alys just applied on his scar and it starts to irritate him. More so than the situation at hand, to his surprise. “What do you want from me?” He lifts his arms up offhandedly.

“I heard… about you and her. I’m not an idiot,” Alys says, trying not to sound desperate.

“No one ever said that you are,” Aemond responds impatiently.

“Did you ask her to come with you to the ball before you asked me? Am I just some last resort…”

“The fuck does it matter? You’re here because I asked you, did I not?” Aemond snaps, whirring around, away from Alys. The reminder of you is throwing him off, threatening to chip away at the mask of composure that he has prepared for this night.

He hasn’t been able to shake off the scent of your skin, how warm you felt against him, that night he last saw you.

And tonight, he will see you again. Aemond never fancied himself a romantic, but he knows that your presence would be the one thing that will make this night worthwhile. This dreaded ball, which he has never looked forward to. Save for a few short weeks when he thought it would be you on his arm.

But he fucked it all up, didn’t he? All because he’s too weak to let you see him as he is. He thinks he’s not good enough for you. But a part of him has always known, because of your goodness, your undeniable warmth, that you would not mind the way he is right now. You would accept the person he has become - that’s just who you are. Good.

And even then, Aemond always comes back around to the same conclusion. You’re too good for him; he’s not good enough for you. Might as well save both of you the pain, and try to stay away.

And maybe, he can use Alys as a distraction. Choosing to bring her to the ball was an act of a coward, Aemond knows. Making you feel unwanted, pushed to the side.

But this is what he deserves. The bruises on his knuckles from that incident in Pentos have only just healed, after all. He is still out of control.

He’s never been a true believer, but the gods only know what he might do when he sees you on his nephew’s arm. Just the image of it causes him to clench his jaw in distaste.

In pure jealousy.

Aemond is blind to the possibility that you and his Jace are only friends, and will stay that way. All he sees in another man, holding you, laughing with you, looking at you like you’re the best thing in this world.

Another man, and not him. Aemond is going to need a lot of ale to get through the night.

And maybe more.

Alys snaps him out of thoughts of you, walking across the room in a flash, until she stands right in front of Aemond. “Do you think you can just use me like this? I’m not second best, Aemond. You asked me to come with you, but you’re acting like you wouldn’t even touch me with a ten-foot pole.”

Aemond remains unmoving, gauging her livid expression. Calculating the next move to make. He’s found himself settling more and more into his old rhythm. Careful, methodical. Almost machiavellian. Never giving away too much. Far from how genuine he allowed himself to be around you. He did not have to pretend or mask anything. But that was then. That was with you.

“Say something, goddamnit,” Alys breathes, her slender fingers wrapping around his forearm.

Aemond’s eyes drift to Alys’ touch, feeling nothing at all. There used to be a time when he would want her company. Crave it even. Although that may have been for the most depraved purposes, one that he allows himself to indulge in now and again, it was still theirs.

Now, Aemond cannot feel right having anything with anyone else. When all he wants is you.

“I asked you to the ball because I wanted to, Alys.” Aemond relents, choosing to take the calmer road. He presses further, knowing that Alys would need more assurance than that. “You should know that I don’t trust many people, and yet here you are. That should count for something.” The sentiment is honest, at least, if not completely heartfelt.

It isn’t as if Aemond grew to have Alys as a confidante by choice. It began as a series of run-ins, then deliberate nighttime invitations.. The trust he formed with her does not mean he values her above anyone else. It was more so that he knew, even early on, that he could never be tethered to her. They had an understanding of the nature of their relationship.

He knew he would not fall in love with her. And he knows because has tried. It spares him from ever truly being vulnerable. It spares them both from any pain.

He takes her hand in his, a final gesture to temper her storm of emotion. And it’s enough. For now.

When Alys leans in to plant her mouth on his, he sees it coming. But he stops himself from taking a step back, or turning his head. He knows that Alys would not dare back out of being his partner for the ball, the publicity and prestige of it all too good to her to pass on. But he does not want to risk having the same useless argument again.

The kiss is cold, fleeting. It leaves a faint hint of maroon by the corner of Aemond’s lips. Like a mark of betrayal.

“Okay, honey.” Alys reaches upward to smooth his hair. “Let’s do some final touches on you, then I’ll go to my suite and get ready.”

Some time later, she finally reaches some satisfaction on her work on Aemond’s scar and departs the room, eager to get started on her lengthier high-profile event glam routine.

Aemond only has one consolation.

He gets to freely indulge on firewine now.

-----------------------

You sit in anticipation at the edge of the bed in your humble apartment.

Helaena had granted your request that you get ready in the confines of your own small but comfortable space, though she preferred that you take her up on her offer of getting ready in their penthouse.

You knew it was best to concede to your friend when she said she would send someone to deliver your dress and to assist you. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, half-expecting that it would only be Talia.

You didn’t expect that sending someone in Helaena’s terms would mean two makeup artists, a hair stylist and his assistant, a nail technician, and Baela Targaryen, who had quickly risen through the ranks of the fashion industry with her clothing brand, Moondancer.

Little did you know that Baela herself would be arriving at your door.

“Hello, sweetheart. I heard from a little birdie that you might need some assistance?” Baela says, stepping into your apartment without waiting for an invitation, confidently occupying any space.

“Baela!” you exclaim. “How are you? Helaena did say she would send someone.” Before you could shut the door, a garment rack comes rolling through, about a dozen designer dresses whipping right past you.

“Where to, ma’am?” A lanky man asks, his mop of ginger hair peering from behind the rack.

“Just there,” Baela gestures to a far wall, before glancing at you, as if remembering that it is in fact your apartment. “Is it fine?”

“Sure,” you smile. As if refusal was an option.

“Our dearest Helaena has informed me of your top choices,” Baela says, as her red-haired assistant began to gingerly pull each dress out from their garment covers. “And I commend your taste, by the way, most of these are my favourite pieces from the collection.”

Soon enough, all of the dresses are revealed to you, each one more beautiful than the next.

“These are all amazing, Baela. Thank you. I owe you.” you say appreciatively, pulling her into a hug.

Baela keeps an arm over your shoulders when you pull apart, leading you to take a closer look. “You don’t owe me anything, sweet. So,” she says, “what are we thinking?”

“This one seems reasonable,” your hand drifts over a plum coloured dress, the material feeling nothing short of luxurious to the touch. It is a lovely A-line maxi dress, with intricate sequin detailing all over.

“Reasonable,” Baela snorts. “It’s lovely and all, but awfully safe, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong with being safe?” you raise an eyebrow at her statement. “This is my first and possibly only Dragonstone ball, Baela. I just want to get through it without making a fool out of myself.”

“But you won’t make a fool of yourself,” Baela squeezes your shoulder in encouragement. “You belong there just as much as anyone else. Maybe even more so, because we actually do like you. Jace especially.”

Baela has a reputation for being quite the enterprising young woman, making a name for herself outside of the Targaryen business empire through her brand. She takes no prisoners, they say. If she wants something, she will go and get it herself. Most find her intimidating, and you count yourself lucky to be at the receiving end of her sweeter side.

“Hmm,” you feel a sense of ease wash over you, making you brush through the other dresses on the rack.

“This dress you chose is nice, and if safe is what you want then…” Baela gives you a once-over, her eyes gaining a mischievous spark. “... that’s all well and good. But, sweetheart, don’t you want to leave Aemond a groveling mess by your high-heeled feet?”

Your stunned expression betrays you, hindering any attempt at denial.

“Oh, I know.” Baela smirks. “Let’s just say that Hel may or not have clued me in on how absolutely childish he was to ditch you like that. I’ve always been of the opinion that my dear cousin needs to get his damn head screwed on straight, but hey, I might be biased.” She raises her hands, knowing she already got her point across.

It won’t be long before she wins you over to a not-entirely-safe dress.

The idea of Aemond possibly exhibiting any form of adoration upon seeing you at the ball is one that you have entertained too many times in the months leading up to tonight. To deny that would be foolish.

Some part of you wants to save yourself from what can only be described as the rollercoaster of attempting to maneuver a relationship with Aemond. But an even greater part… just can’t let him go.

You sigh in finality. Baela grins at that. She clearly won this one, but there was never really any doubt.

“I’m glad you agree, because I have something for you.” She nods over to her assistant, who promptly leaves the room and returns with another dress. The dress.

“Baela, what in seven hells.” You appraised the dress with evident stars in your eyes. “This… this was not in the catalogue Hel made me choose from.”

“Of course not, silly,” Baela responds proudly. “Because I designed this just for you.”

You shake your head in amazement, lightly asking, “What if I had stuck to my first choice, huh?” You wouldn’t have, not after seeing the dress, and you know Baela is aware of this.

“Impossible,” Baela reaches for the dress and holds it against you, studying you like a subject. “I had planned to custom make dresses for the ladies in the family anyhow. Well, apart from my beloved aunt - your dearest’s mother - so making one for you too was a no-brainer.”

You thank her profusely, as she and her assistant, whom you discover is named Lancel, check how the dress fits you. Seeing if any last-minute alterations were needed, but there was really nothing else to do with it.

It was perfect.

“Lancel will stay to assist you, and Helaena’s sending a whole team, and they should be here soon.” Baela says, growing busy with her buzzing phone. “I’ll be off to prepare myself.”

“I don’t know what else to say, but thank you again, Baela. Helaena said you would be in charge of our dresses but I certainly did not expect this.” You say sincerely, as you see her to the door.

“It was my pleasure,” Baela responds, and in true fashion, drops her head in a dramatic bow. As she walks down the hall, she does not miss her chance in calling back and adding, “and it will be an even bigger pleasure to witness the absolute anguish in Aemond’s face when he sees you.”

You welcome the shiver that runs up your spine at the thought of that. That’ll show him.

As if on cue, the rest of your designated prep team arrive not long after, and you surrender yourself to the frenzy that followed.

-----------------------

The Dragonstone Ball

The Valyrian Hall is a place of marvel in the city.

Erected nearly a century to the day, it essentially marked the dominance of the Targaryen empire in the country. Designed like an amphitheatre, the looming structure has hosted many history-marking events.

As befits it, it is also the venue for the annual Dragonstone Ball. Revamped for the purposes of each ball, it transforms into a hub of merrymaking and pageantry. Its attendees include no other than the rest of the nobility, dignitaries, notable artists and academics, as well as the nouveau riche.

The country of Westeros is officially an oligarchy, with the heads of the most powerful Houses in power. But the unspoken truth of it is that the Targaryens rule over them all.

And no expense is spared by the ruling family of the country.

The media is flocked outside the hall, a thousand cameras flashing at each arriving guest. Hurling empty exclamations at the impeccably dressed attendees walking down the black carpet. The theme for this year was simple - Firelight - a play on the Targaryen and Hightower slogans, honouring the long-standing alliance between the two families. The dress code warranted only their traditional colours to be worn - red and black, green and silver.

Viserys himself was the mastermind behind the theme, in an effort to make a show of strength in the family, after the horrid incident between Aemond and Lucerys. Alicent was slow to warm to the idea, if she ever did at all.

Tensions are still high, especially between the mothers of two belligerents, with Alicent having shared unsavoury comments about Lucerys’ upbringing.

And of course, it is an open secret in this year’s event that everyone is in anticipation of finally seeing what has become of Aemond Targaryen.

-----------------------

Your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and beautiful, standing tall with a quiet confidence you didn’t think you could muster.

Clad in the dazzling red gown Baela crafted specifically for you, and your tresses adorned with an embellished tiara crafted by the silversmiths of Volantis, you surprisingly do not feel like a whole other person. Not exactly.

You feel more yourself than you ever had before.

“I could be a Targaryen,” you jokingly share with Jace as you both study yourselves in the mirror. “If only I had that damned silver hair.”

“Trust me when I say that it’s not as fun as people might think,” he laughs in response, catching your eyes in the reflection. “But you look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You whirl around, not even bothering to hide the blush on your face. Jace would see right through you, anyway. “And you look handsome as ever.” You take a deep breath, trying to do away with the nerves that are threatening to emerge. Calm down.

You lightly brush your hands across his shoulders. “Well, I cannot believe that I am going to the ball as the famous Jacaerys Velaryon’s date. What an honour, really. You’re practically a prince!”

“Oh, ha-ha,” he says dryly, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m just Jace to you, thank you very much.”

“This is going to go great,” you sigh in encouragement, mostly to yourself. I’ll finally see him, won’t I? What could go wrong?

What could go wrong, indeed? How much will it string to see Alys Rivers draped on Aemond’s arm. To see them dancing with each other, barely an inch apart.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jace smooths your perfectly-done hair in reassurance. “You and I are going to enjoy this godsforsaken ball with Hel, Luke, and the rest of our friends.” Don’t even think about him, he wanted to say, but you already knew that.

He holds his arm out for you to take, indicating that it is finally time to head to the ball.

“Shall we?”

You loop your arm around his with a steady smile, bracing yourself for what would turn out to be one of the most memorable nights of your life.

-----------------------

You feel the limousine idly come to a slow stop in the private road leading to the front of the grand Valyrian Hall. All at once, everyone flocks around to catch a glimpse of whom they presume to be members of the Targaryen clan, but the security detail is quick to ensure that none may come too close. Even if it would be impossible to peer through its heavily tinted windows.

“Don’t worry, we won’t come out here.” Jace is quick to note, when he sees the apprehension on your face. “We’ll head inside to the inner courtyard.”

The yelling of photographers outside sounds like a cacophony, an endless buzzing, and you are grateful you don’t have to go right into their throes.

The limousine moves once more, presumably following the one before it, passing the towering gold palisade surrounding the hall.

“Special entrance for special guests, eh?” Jace nudges you, smirking.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You hum in response. You try to fight it, but your mind races. Is he already here? ‘I’ll see you at the ball,’ he said. Sure. What then?

“There are still photographers and members of the media here, but only ones vetted by the family,” Jace explains. “I’ll take the lead, so you don’t have to worry about answering any questions if you don’t want to. Just stick with me.”

Ever the gentleman.

The chauffeur opens the limousine door, and Jace gently tows you along with him. When the blinding camera flashes first hit your eyes, you enter into a sort of haze. Like on autopilot, you don a practiced smile and smoothly walk with Jace down the black carpet.

Jace opts to have only one brief interview, with whom you recognize to be the prolific Mysaria, the head news anchor for the channel owned by the Targaryens.

“And who is your lovely date for this evening?” she beams, and the camera pans over to you.

“This beauty here is y/n, one of my best friends.” Jace drapes an arm around you, then smiles to the camera. You admire how flawless his media training is.

“That’s right,” you hear yourself saying, “someone needs to keep this one in line.”

Mysaria laughs, “Oooh, we love your attitude. Well, you two do make the most gorgeous pairing.”

She asks a few more questions, then the interview quickly wraps, and Mysaria shakes both of your hands in her professional manner.

Event coordinators usher the two of you inside the sprawling foyer, lush with intricate Targaryen red and black tapestry. But right as you start to appreciate the detailed engravings on the bronze panels propped up on the walls, you are directed up a flight of stairs and into a private parlour.

Your shoulders visibly slump in instant relief when you spot some familiar faces.

Helaena stands speaking to Lucerys, who incidentally is her date, as she refused to be paired with anyone unfamiliar. Luke had been gracious enough to volunteer to be her partner.

“Even if her brother and myself fucked each other over a while back, I still love Hel,” you heard him joke once, a pit of dread settling in your stomach. Leave it to Luke to be nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Look who it is,” Luke greets loudly, “my brother finally looks like an actual human being.”

“Ah, you little shit,” Jace counters, shaking his head fondly. “How’s the limp?”

“Not bad,” Luke props his right leg forward, showing off some progress.”Lucky for me, we’ll be walking at a snail's pace all throughout this bloody thing. You look stunning, by the way.” He winks at you.

“Thanks, Luke.” you smile at him. “So, what a spectacle, huh? It was crazy out there.”

Helaena wraps an arm around your waist, “If you think that was crazy, wait ‘til you enter the main hall.”

“We’ll be announced next. It’s just us left from the family, really. Everyone else has already walked down the proverbial aisle.” Luke comments, straightening his shawl lapels.

The brothers’ choice of attire contrasts yet complements the other’s, with Luke sporting a burgundy three-piece suit and a black tie, whilst Jace dons a simpler black suit and a red tie.

Helaena looks simply otherworldly in her emerald gown, representing the true Hightower heiress that she is.

“Everyone?” you exhale, the words registering. He’s already here.

“You alright? You remember everything from rehearsal?” Jace confirms with you. Yes, I remember rehearsal quite well. The one that Aemond predictably chose not to attend.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You nod, shaking away any thought of him. We’ll see each other soon enough. “Let’s get this shit done, shall we, partner?”

“You’re up next, Sir Lucerys, Miss Helaena.” The event coordinator summons the pair, directing them to stand in front of the heavy-set ornate doors.

A moment passes, then the doors open with a slow, echoing groan. Helaena shoots you one more smile as she walks through with Lucerys.

You hear the herald’s booming voice announcing their names, just as the doors close once more.

“Two more minutes of this,” Jace remarks. “Or you know, maybe ten, since my brother has to take his sweet time walking down the hall.”

“Hey,” you smack his chest, laughing, “it’s not his fault he still has a limp.”

Taking your hand, Jace leads you in front of the doors. You feel your heart pounding, as the sounds coming from the great hall are amplified.

You turn to Jace, wanting to say something, anything, to calm yourself but your mouth feels dry. “Hey,” he gently croons, coming to your rescue, his hand covering yours as you squeeze his arm, “do you see this?”

Your eyes follow as he points to the figure embossed on the large metal doors.

“It looks like… a dragon?”

“That’s right. I think you know of the myths of Old Valyria, where my family hails from. This dragon is called Balerion, the greatest and largest that my ancestors were said to have claimed.”

“Even in this form, he looks imposing,” you say, gazing at the figure, “and beautiful.”

Jace hums in agreement, adding, “You know, legend has it that Targaryens are of the blood of the dragon. That we, for lack of a better word, are dragons ourselves.”

“Hmm,” you smile at the thought, “and do you believe that?”

Jace shrugs, facing ahead, getting ready. “Why shouldn’t I believe?”

His words inspire a sense of calm, and self-assuredness, quieting your restless mind. I can do this. You hold yourself up, lips curved in a soft smile.

The doors open, revealing the revelry below.

Here we go.

-----------------------

Aemond had been eager to get through with the initial presentation, practically marching through as fast as can be allowed, with Alys clinging on his arm. He did not much care for the dissonant whispering that flooded the hall once the crowd got sight of him. Their missing Prince of the city has returned.

You would think I grew a second fucking head.

It was no use trying to drown them out, even with the orchestra resounding from the balcony.

“What happened to his eye?”

“Is that really him?”

“He looks…”

“In a rush, are we, honey?” Alys asked through gritted teeth, annoyed, but kept her signature sultry expression intact. She pulled him closer to her, “Keep pace with me now.”

When they finally reached the front of the hall, where the rest of his family assembled, he nearly took a swig out of the flask Aegon was subtly trying to hand over to him.

Until Alicent hissed at the both of them. “Not now, boys.”

The crowd continues to sneak glances at him. In awe or pity, Aemond does not care to know. With every new pairing being announced, he is grateful that their attention is momentarily diverted.

He stands tall in his midnight black formal leather overcoat, with a fitted dark green shirt underneath. His hair has grown longer since his last public appearance, and he now wears it in a half-up manner, with his eyepatch neatly in place over it.

He has come to terms with his appearance, and soon enough, he might even grow to accept the moniker Aemond One-Eye as his brother keeps calling him.

“It’s badass, Aem,” Aegon had drawled. “You look like a Valyrian dragonrider from the old stories with that scar.”

The pairings could have blurred in a haze altogether. Lannister, Arryn, Baratheon, Stark, Tully. On and on it went, but none of them left a mark on Aemond.

There is only one person he is so desperate to see.

When Lucerys Velaryon’s name is announced, Aemond can’t help the distaste he feels. He rolls his shoulders, trying to keep composure, Alys’ arm falling from him. She only regards him from the corner of her eye, likely praying that he doesn’t cause a scene and embarrass her.

He keeps his focus on his sister, as she gracefully floats through the crowd in Hightower green. Such a shame it’s that bastard she got paired with.

Helaena and her partner reach the front of the hall, and she throws him a look as if to say, behave. Aemond ducks his head in acknowledgment, lips curling.

I promise I’ll try to be good. For her sake.

To his left, he hears Helaena whisper, “Any moment now.”

Aemond knows exactly what she means, and does not feel the need to muster a response. The anticipation has devolved into some kind of torture, as all he wants to see you again.

To feel you against him, how your skin would glide smoothly against his, how you would fit together.

The effects of firewine are getting stronger, encroaching on his senses. It dawns on him that perhaps he shouldn’t have imbibed in considerable quantities before the ball, but no matter.

The herald begins his next announcement.

“Finally, let us welcome Jacaerys Velaryon, son of Laenor Velaryon…”

“More like Strong,” Aegon mumbles under his breath, but Aemond no longer pays him any mind.

“... and Rhaenyra Targaryen. With his partner…”

The herald says your name, and Aemond can practically feel his heart lodged in his throat. Keeping his arms behind his back, he adjusts his stance, trying to calm himself. He sees you emerge from the top of the steps and watches as your eyes sweep over the entire hall, and eventually, finally, meet his very own.

Aemond can hardly breathe, the blood rushing to his head at the sight of you in that red dress, making him feel all woozy. The firewine surely does not help, either.

She looks like a goddess. You walk down the hall, keeping your eyes trained ahead, hand firmly on Jacaerys’ arm. But Aemond does not spare his nephew any more than a cursory glance, almost entranced by the way your gown enhances your silhouette. By the exposed planes of your skin.

He watches your chest heave against your bodice as you take deep breaths. He knows that you would be nervous, but to your credit, nobody will be able to tell.

That’s my girl. You reach the front of the hall, joining the rest of the family and their respective partners. Your lips part slightly as you get a better look at Aemond, and he wants to know badly what you think. But then your eyes visibly narrow at something, and you turn away, walking with Jace to the other end of the group.

Aemond registers that Alys had looped her arm around his again, and he curses her internally. He can’t help the glare that he throws in her direction, but she must not see the irritation in his eyes or simply ignores it.

Alys mouths, “Have you been drinking?” with a seductive smile that does not fit her query.

Keeping up appearances, as usual.

“Some,” Aemond snaps. “Don’t let it concern you.”

The hall falls into silence as Viserys conducts his opening remarks, followed by a brief speech from his daughter and named successor, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Soon enough, it’s time for the first dance. All of the main pairings make their way to the open floor in the middle of the hall, standing across from each other as they line up in an orderly fashion. It is the only traditional Valyrian dance of the night, for which participants were required to attend a series of rehearsals prior to the event. Aemond opted out of them this year, not that it mattered. He has long since mastered the dance, having attended every Dragonstone ball since his childhood.

He is tempted to look in your direction, but his instinct to follow tradition wins over.

Always keep your eyes trained on your partner, his mother had ingrained in him and his siblings.

That wouldn’t be a problem, if she were mine.

The dancers raise their right arms to the front, and the music starts. For Aemond, every step almost feels robotic, and his body moves on its own volition. He does not even need to think, nor does he appreciate the closeness the routine requires of the pairings.

Fuck it. At that, Aemond lets his eye wander over to you, as you twirl around with Jace a few feet away. You don’t even look at Aemond, and you shouldn’t, but it annoys him anyway.

He spins Alys around, and her back is pressed to his as they saunter from side to side.

Then you lock eyes. He notices the switch in your expression, which you quickly revert back to a fixed soft smile, but he sees it anyway.

You’re irate at me, my love. The pairings spin around again. And for good reason.

“You smell of firewine,” Alys mutters, when she draws closer.

“Well, I needed something to make this night bearable,” Aemonds responds coolly,

“Aemond,” Alys warns.

Aemond could have rolled his eyes at her reaction. Eye, he smirks at himself. “Don’t worry. It’s not you. I just dislike all this.” Surely that will get her to simmer down.

“Do you really ? Aren’t you a stickler for Valyrian tradition?”

“Hmm.” When in seven hells will this dance end?

-----------------------

When the first dance ends, you audibly breathe a sigh of relief.

It is no longer the apprehension about tripping on your feet, or doing something unbecoming of the tradition of the ball, or even forgetting a part of the dance routine that plagues your mind - all of your worries are set aside, overpowered by the rush of emotion from seeing Aemond once again.

The sight of him had been enough to drown out all the noise. Like the focal point of a kaleidoscope, your eyes sought him out when you entered the hall.

Like a moth to a flame. And he found you too.

You don’t know what else to think, apart from - He looks beautiful.

What was he even worried about? He still looks every bit like your Aemond, though you feel sorry at the now apparent loss of his eye. You know he would not desire your pity, that he would hate being on the receiving end of it from anyone. But you can’t help it.

I’m sorry this happened to you, you want to tell him. But would it even matter? Would it make a difference? Or does he already get enough consolation from the company of Alys Rivers?

Jace does not let go of your hand as you walk to the head table with the rest of the family, which is situated like a dais at the front of the hall, so that all the family members would have a full view of everything. Aemond is situated at the other end of the table with Alys, but since they are seated at the other end of the long table, as are you and Jace, they are directly in your line of sight.

The staff had distributed glasses of a deep violet wine which Jace explained is firewine, originally from Valyria. “Are you doing alright so far?” He places his hand atop yours on the table, and you hum positively in response. He does not let go, his thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

You raise your head when Viserys addresses the hall, making the mistake of catching Aemond’s eye. You notice how tense he sits, both hands intertwined on the table, his eye trained on you. Or rather, on Jace’s hand adjoined with yours.

You shake your head slightly. He looks up at you, as if noticing the attention you are giving him. So you look away quickly, listening as Viserys makes his first toast to the hall.

“Now we drink,” Jace signals. You pick up the ornate glass and bring it to your lips, and see Aemond doing the same. He does not drop your gaze as he takes a drawn out sip, and finally lowers the glass. You catch the way his tongue flickers to taste the remnants of firewine on his lips, and you feel your cheeks flare up with warmth.

Does he know what he’s doing?

“We now invite all of you to partake in another bout of dancing, this one less stringent than the first, so there’s no need to worry. No dragon will come to smite you if you step on your partner’s toes, but my dear wife won’t hesitate to throw you out of the hall, I’m sure,” Viserys announces genially, earning some laughter from the attendees. “And shortly after, the feast will begin.”

The crowd sets into commingling. Some pairings remain together, some accept invitations from other guests. The orchestra begins to play a slower, gentler hymn. Something more intimate. Romantic.

“May I have this dance, stranger?” Jace grins at you, offering his hand.

“Well, who am I to refuse a dragon?” you quip in turn. You pass by Helaena and Luke already on the dancefloor, and Aemond and Alys…

“Hey,” Jace keeps you from finding out. He keeps a gentle hand on the small of your back, and takes your hand in the other. “Is he bothering you?”

“What?”

“Aemond,” Jace says. “I could not help but notice that my dear uncle has been practically drooling at you like some starving dog.”

“He has not,” your eyes widen at his insinuation. But he has, hasn’t he?

“Are you blind?” Jace laughs. “He’s bloody doing it right now.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find him, guiding Alys Rivers in a slow dance. And Jace is right. He may be holding her, but his focus is on you.

“You can tell that he must be so jealous right now,” Jace says. “It’s kind of funny.”

A giggle bubbles up your lips, and Jace joins you. You hold each other closer in an attempt to control your laughter. “Still,” you breathe out, finding the words. “He came here with Alys. Not me.”

Jace simply smirks at your concern. “Oh, doll. Judging by how he looks like he might commit nepoticide at any moment, I’d say you’re doing a fine job of making him pay for it.”

-----------------------

Aemond hears you laugh a few feet away, recognizing his favourite sound. It’s been too long since he last heard it. Too bad you’re sharing the moment with his Strong nephew, of all people.

The song slows to a gradual halt, but the dance is still under way. Aemond takes this as his cue to turn away from Alys, mumbling something about getting a drink.

“Wait until they’re served. You don’t just slink away searching for alcohol to drown in! This is so unlike you.” She seethes, his attitude finally getting to her.

Aemond knows this. He’s well aware that the servers will soon emerge from the corners of the hall with delicate glass flutes balanced on gold trays. He’s seen this ball play out all throughout his life.

But he is not looking for the same sweet, feeble firewine. He’d much prefer the seedier alcohol that Aegon brings around in his flask.

Alys was right. This is truly unlike him. But between the awareness of everyone scrutinizing his new appearance and seeing his nephew’s hand firmly on your waist, his only recourse is to take a book out of Aegon’s page.

And drink like a Braavosi seahorse, as they say.

You begin swaying once more, in the arms of Jace, as the music gradually rises back to a crescendo. New sets of pairings venture onto the dancefloor.

Thankfully, one of them steps in to relieve him.

“Well, if it isn’t Alys Rivers herself,” a man exclaims, then turns to Aemond. “Do you mind, sir?” He holds his hand out to Alys, standing tall like a reed, as if a stiff breeze would blow him away.

“Oh, hi.” Alys says, pleased at the attention. “Aemond, this is Harris, he’s an actor and we worked on…”

But Aemond has already stepped away, disinterested by her explanation. “By all means.”

It is clearly not the reaction Alys wanted from him, and she glares at his retreating figure. Aemond doesn’t notice, approaching his brother on the sidelines.

“Finished dancing with mommy?” Aegon sneers by way of greeting.

“Fuck off, Aegon.”

“Aw, come on.” Aegon slaps his brother on the back. “You know I'm joking. Besides, you’re doing well for your first event in a long time.”

“Well,” Aemond’s lips curl in thought. Is that how things are going? Well? I wouldn’t say so. “Hand me your flask.”

Aegon sniggers, reaching for his pocket. “Hurry while our dear mother’s not looking.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Aemond takes a long drag of the liquid, the unforgiving taste biting in his mouth. It burns a little as it goes down his throat, winding up in his core as a pit of warmth.

“Well, well. Did you lose your inhibitions along with your eye, brother?” Aegon snatches the flask back, surprised but not disappointed by this turn of events.

Perhaps.

“Look at them. Smiling at each other like that.” Aemond spits out, venom lacing his tone.

“Wha -” Aegon’s head whips around, searching. Landing on you. “Oh. I see.” His amusement flares even greater. “Someone’s bloody jealous.”

“Hmm.” Why bother denying it?

“Didn’t think you had it in you to be cuckolded by a bastard.” Aegon says, dealing an effective blow.

“Give me that,” Aemond swipes the flask once more, taking a careless swig. Intrigued whispers reach him, somewhere from behind. Or to his side, it doesn’t matter. They can say whatever they want.

He hands the flask back to his snickering brother, then goes on to claim what’s his.

-----------------------

“Nephew.”

You hear his voice, plain as day. One minute he was some distance away, then he materialised right beside you.

“Mind if I step in?” Aemond asks Jace smoothly. Politely. But his eyes betray a hint of malice. You can’t help but stare at him blankly as he offers his hand to you.

Jace doesn’t respond right away, looking to you for approval. Are you fine with this? He seems to ask with furrowed brows.

“It’s okay,” you find your voice, albeit timid and unsure.

“I won’t go too far,” Jace whispers. He lets you go, letting Aemond take over in his stead. You stand in front of each other, but you don’t dare move closer. You feel arrested in his gaze, and he doesn’t say anything for a while.

Until he takes a sure step. Then he is everywhere. His familiar scent envelops you once more. Dizzying, like a long swig of firewine. You even catch a hint of it from him. His lips curl in amusement as he sees you studying him. You take notice of his eyepatch, of the scar lingering beneath.

Aemond. Enticing as ever. Ethereal and princely in his leather garb.

Why did he ever have to hide from me?

He whispers your name, and puts both hands on the small of your back, pulling you right against him. More intimate than the stance you had with Jace.

Aemond always had a pair on him.

He does seem to be unfazed, though he surely regards how flustered you’re becoming. “Hands up on my shoulders, love.” He says, and you comply.

Then he gracefully guides you through the slow dance. How can he act like everything is normal between us? Does he expect me to just -

“You look beautiful.” Aemond says, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widen at his sentiment, and your cheeks warm. “Easily the most beautiful woman in this room.”

It’s all too much, and you have to look away. “Nice of you to say that, Aemond.”

“I mean it.”

“Sure.”

You continue with the dance, too aware of your proximity. If you lean in, you’re almost certain he’ll feel your rushing heartbeat. Maybe he already does, judging by the pleased look on his face.

“Are you… are you better now?” You ask, tentatively.

Aemond’s expression hardens, and you struggle to decipher what he could possibly be thinking.

“I wish this never happened to you,” you add, and your hand strays on its own, hovering over the side of his face. But you catch yourself, and let your hand fall just as quick.

“I know,” he says, sincerely. “I do wish I never had to be away from you.”

“But you never had to,” you respond immediately. “This wouldn’t have changed how I see you.”

“It might have,” Aemond looks away this time. “You didn’t see how I was. How I still am.”

“I don’t - ”

Aemond’s head whips back to you, leaning closer. “There’s a reason why my mother made sure I wore these bloody gloves. So we don’t give people a chance to talk about their fucking Prince of the City’s latest exploits.”

You swallow, growing concerned. “I heard about those… fights. I wasn’t sure if they were true. Nobody ever said anything.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, they are. I’m not going to lie, darling. Right now, I’m not averse to slamming Jacaerys right to the ground.”

“Aemond,” you freeze, no longer swaying to the music. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Maybe he has changed. But did I ever truly know him? Did he really let me in?

He notices your expression fall, agonizes at the sight of you moving away from him, dropping your arm to your sides. So he pulls you in once more, holding you right against him. His leather coat is smooth against the featherlike fabric of your gown, cool against your growing warmth.

“Wait,” Aemond pleads. “Stay with me.” His hands slide upward, cradling your face. You have no choice but to look at him. Briefly, you wonder how he would appear without the eyepatch. Not that it matters. Not that he will reveal himself to you.

The song comes to a gradual halt in the background. The crowd begins to shuffle back to their tables. Some of them cast wary glances in your direction. Who is that girl with their beloved Aemond, they must wonder, and you begin to grow self-conscious.

“I want to kiss you right now, darling.” Aemond sighs, fanning your face with an exhale. Proving your assumption that he might be inebriated. Not just with wine, but something stronger.

I wish you would. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” His face scrunches in frustration, and it’s actually adorable.

“Not here. People are staring.” You clear your throat, trying to get a hold of yourself. But it doesn’t seem to matter to him.

“Let them stare.”

His gaze drifts down to your lips. His thumb flutters across, parting them just a little. Just as he had, that one night. Has it been that long?

Like a shock to your senses, you see a lithe figure in a silver slip gown walking in your direction. A vision with her cascading dark hair.

You jump back from Aemond, and he looks almost wounded.

“Enjoy your night, Aemond.” You turn away from him. “Alys.” You muster up a greeting, and the corner of her mouth lifts in a wry smile.

You walk through the crowd, your mind still on Aemond, unaware that he continues to watch you with longing, tuning out the dark-haired vixen holding on to his arm.

“You look flushed,” Aegon greets, standing with Helaena by the dais.

“I suppose it’s your fault Aemond’s drunk,” you respond, raising your eyebrow.

“He’s drunk?” Aegon exclaims, shrugging dramatically. “I swear I had no part in this.”

Helaena shakes her head, watching the exchange. “It’s a relief you didn’t decide to become an actor.”

“Hey,” Aegon grumbles, but he is clearly unaffected. “Aemond wanted to get drunk. I never could make him do anything no matter how hard I try.”

Smirking at you, he presses on. “If anything, sweet, I should be blaming you.”

-----------------------

You are seated back at the high table when Jace finally returns. But he is not alone, grinning conspiratorially with another raven-haired fellow, strapping and dignified in appearance.

You spot the wolf sigil pinned to his black tunic, and you automatically make an assumption.

This must be a Stark.

“I would like to introduce you to an old buddy of mine,” Jace smiles, confirming your thoughts. “This is Cregan Stark.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Cregan reaches you, drawing close. He smoothly takes your hand, and presses a kiss to the back as a gesture of courtesy. “A shame we didn’t meet sooner. I suppose I haven’t left Winterfell in far too long. Haven’t seen this one in a long time too.” He tilts his head in Jace’s direction, smiling. You can’t help but notice the sharpness of his canines, making him appear kind of wolflike, in line with his family symbol. “My sister Sara misses him way too much for my liking.”

At the mention of Sara, Jace’s cheeks visibly redden, and you make a mental note of teasing him about it later.

“What’s not to miss about Jace, really?” you say, taking a liking to the Stark boy’s demeanour. Sure, he holds himself with a steely confidence that befits someone of his status - much like Aemond - but he doesn’t come across as intimidating.

And, more importantly, he’s good friends with Jace, so he must be trustworthy.

“Right, you two, the feast is starting,” Jace playfully pulls Cregan away from you, who winks in your direction before hunkering off to his own table.

Jace sits down next to you, a smile still resting on his lips. When he catches you looking, you take the opportunity and say, “So, Sara Stark, huh?”

He smirks, easily countering with, “So, my uncle, huh?”

Your eyebrows raise, and you pick up the flute of wine set before you.

“Touché.”

-----------------------

Another one. Aemond has half a mind to break something when he spots the fucking Stark boy making advancements on you. Who does he think he is anyway? Does he not know that you are already spoken for?

True to form, his nephew Jacaerys only seems to be encouraging the whole thing. Bringing his two friends together.

Bastard is as bastard does.

Thankfully, there is a sudden trill sound, some chimes swinging, it doesn’t matter. The feast is being signalled to commence.

Everyone makes their way back to their tables, including bloody Cregan Stark.

Aemond is simply determined to go through the motions, and to make it to the remaining two hours of this ball. Two excruciating hours. Then he plans on taking you off somewhere, just you and him, having already considered the different outcomes in his head.

To Blackwater Residences, perhaps? But that would be a bit far away. You would be inclined to go with him, only if there would be an option to return to the ball should the need arise.

So he settles on simply pulling you away from the crowd, somewhere within the Valyrian Hall. He knows the ins and outs of the establishment quite well. So there would be no trouble getting around. To the gardens, to the balcony on the upper floor, to the private parlour?

Anywhere, anything.

“... so of course, I said yes! It’s a really good opportunity for me to finally venture into the film industry, you know. It’s something I've always wanted.” Alys prattles on, and Aemond tunes in, now and then, nodding or shaking his head as warranted. Keep her happy, and the night should flow by easily. If he plays his cards right, he should be with you soon enough.

Viserys commands the attention of the crowd, and hush falls over the feast.

He begins by thanking everyone in attendance, then goes on to make a toast for the entire city, for prosperity. And at the end, he expresses a tribute for perpetual unity among his family, the accident glazed over like a bad headline.

Like it never happened. And that is how people will see it, if that is the will of Viserys.

As per tradition, the rest of the family may take the opportunity to share a toast, should they wish.

Rhaenyra is next, and she expresses gratitude for the health of their sons.

Otto Hightower announces the predicted success of the next business venture between the Targaryen and Hightower empires, shepherded by his tireless consulting and liaising, of course.

Daeron makes a cheerful toast to his many friends, scattered across the hall in attendance.

And then, Lucerys stands, leaning against his good leg, one hand on the table for balance. He raises his hand high, and his usual impish smirk is in place. He looks around the hall, making sure to have everyone’s eyes on him.

“It's been quite the year, as we all know. I, for one, am simply grateful to still be standing here among you.”

Viserys looks to Rhaenrya, as if to question whether Luke will stray too far. The boy’s mother merely smiles stiffly, trusting her son to be prudent in his speech.

Luke does not miss a beat, continuing, “I would like us all to toast to my family, especially to my dear uncle, Aemond. Hopefully he has learned his lesson about challenging me to a race.” He adds the last thing lightly, and the crowd titters as a result.

“Alright, Luke, that’s enough.” Rhaenyra makes a hushed warning.

Luke mouths, wait, and finishes up the rest of his speech. “I would like to make a toast as well, to our dear friends and companions here at our table. To Daeron’s girlfriend, Viola. To Rhaena and her Corwyn. And to my good friend, y/n.”

Aemond’s hand clenches into a fist on the table at his nephew mentioning your name. He sees you regard Luke with surprise, not expecting this at all.

Luke finishes his toast, and in a deliberate move, he says, “Seeing as how my brother is quite taken with you, I won’t be surprised if you will be joining our family soon.”

Aemond suddenly rises from his seat, his weighty chair causing a grating noise to echo across the hall.

Luke sits back down with a triumphant sneer, having accomplished his desired result.

Aemond takes a deep breath, not saying anything for a few seconds. His features are stony and his figure taut, like a serpent ready to strike.

“Aemond,” Alicent says, worried.

Then Aemond raises his glass, a determined look on his face, his one beady eye scanning the hall. Not willing to be defeated.

“A tribute,” he begins, “to the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…”

He catches sight of you, sitting too far away, worriedly looking between himself and Jacaerys, who glares at him appalled. You shake your head at him.

This is all for you, my darling.

“...Strong.” Aemond calls to everyone. “Let us raise our cups, to these three Strong boys.”

The tension takes its toll, and despite Viserys’ best efforts, chaos ensues.

a/n

not Aemond getting wasted just to cope with the high of properly being with the reader after the longest time...

also - someone send Ewan back to Derby please. I'm serious.

Sound off in the comments! I would love to know what you guys think 🖤

Series taglist: @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyv @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon

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happilyhertale · 1 year

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great! so this is kind of like an au but it's still set on the hotd universe. basically, I was wondering if you could do an aemond x fem!reader where their relationship is very similar to that of rhaenyra and harwin's relationship. reader is next in line to throne as she is rhaenyra's daughter. because of this, rhaenyra requests she has a knight for her daughter to watch over her and what not. enter aemond, the one eyed knight and son to alicent hightower.

the two eventually become smitten with eachother and form a secret relationship, with reader eventually falling pregnant with his child. some smut, angst and good ol' fluff. please? (also based on the song work song by hozier)

Sense of duty - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Finally! Thank you, Anon, for this great request! I'm sorry it took so long! Nevertheless, it was fun to write this story. I hope you like it (: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 4.2 k

The long awaited second part