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coppoladelrey · 1 year

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Cherry

A/N: I took inspiration from Lana Del Rey’s song called Cherry, I hope you guys like it. The fic is a little out there, but I love AUs and I don’t think I’ve seen one of those around. (If you know any, send them my way. I’d love to read other AUs with our favourite momma’s boy.) Please let me know what you think, as I said it’s kinda out there, even if it’s to tell me that it’s sucked lol.

Summary: You were obsessed with your History Professor, what you didn’t know was that he was obsessed with you as well.

Professor!Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: smut, power imbalance (?), dub con (but not really?), unprotected sex (I mean it’s a fic, don’t do this IRL), a bit of angst and fluff, Minors DNI.

Tag List: @aemonds-war-crime.

Masterlist

His voice was angelic, nothing could distract you from him. Professor Aemond was your history professor, Roman history was his field. You didn't need to be here, you were in STEM but you love History so you took it as an elective. It was so wrong, but you were lusting after your History Professor. You remember clear as day the first day you saw him.

You were excited about your history lesson, Roman history fascinated you that’s why you were sitting on the first row you couldn’t wait for this. There was only you and another boy in the class, which was about to start in 20 minutes. You decided to begin to do your homework from one of your classes, it was easy enough, you’d never admit that to anyone else but you were one of the smartest people in the university.

People started coming in but you paid no mind, you were in the zone and your homework was almost finished. You didn't realize that the Professor just came through the door, your pen was in your mouth and your brows were furrowed in concentration. The Professor noticed you, wearing a short skirt, tights and a turtleneck, you looked delicious but Aemond had a reputation to uphold. He was in front of you now but you didn't notice it, everyone was now looking at you.

You heard laughter from the people that shared your class, you looked up and you saw who you assumed was the Professor, he was wearing all black and he had an eye patch and scar which made him look sexy. His face was as if it was carved by God himself, his hands were behind his back and his facial expression was stern, you quickly sat up straight and closed your laptop. He kept looking at you which you only could as contempt for a few more seconds and went back to his desk.

“I am Professor Aemond Targaryen, to simply put any potential rumours at rest,” He pointed at the eye patch. “This was an unfortunate hunting accident with my nephew Luke, and my eye could not be saved.” Aemond preferred to get the story out of the way because he knew how students can get curious. “Now let’s start the class.”

The class went smoothly after that, and you were sure that his voice was going to be ingrained in your mind, it was smooth and sultry. Professor Aemond looked at you every ten minutes, not enough to raise suspicions but enough to make you aware that you were being watched. Aemond was a great professor, he didn't like to brag but it was true.

It was almost time for the class to be finished, everyone was getting their belongings in their bags, including you. That’s when Aemond decided to speak.

“I must speak with you, Miss.” His voice was stern, it left no room for argument. Your classmates were snickering and feeling sorry for you, after everyone else left you went to his table.

“I do not appreciate that kind of dismissive behaviour in my class, miss?” You said your full name and Aemond appreciated the sound of your voice.

“I apologise, Professor. I was twenty minutes early, so I decided to finish one of my assignments but I’ll take this class very seriously.” Aemond simply hummed and dismissed you with his hand, you went back to your seat and he appreciated the sway of your hips, you hurried out of class.

You were roommates with a girl called Ellie, she was a sophomore while you were a junior. It was a bit unsettling how much she knew about everyone’s lives, it was as if she had eyes everywhere. If a professor had issues either with family, or drugs she knew about it. It wasn’t a surprise when you were back to your dorm, she already knew that you had a mishap with professor Aemond.

“What did you do? What did the professor hottie say?” To be completely honest you were surprised that she didn't know what the two of you talked about.

“I got in the zone and didn't see him come in, she got angry and wanted to talk to me.” Ellie knew how you could get when you were concentrated, she never met anyone as dedicated as you to your studies. You didn't drink, you didn't party, your parents were poor, and you were on a scholarship you couldn’t afford a mistake, unlike Ellie.

“Be careful next time, he has a reputation.” Her statement confused you.

“What reputation?”

“He doesn’t forgive mistakes, of any kind. If you mess up in his class you are out, I’m surprised that you’re still allowed.” Ellie was eyeing you suspiciously, she hasn’t known you that long so her opinion of you wasn’t formed yet.

“He didn't say that I could come back.” Now you were worried, even though you didn't need to take this class, you loved Roman History it’d be awful to be kicked out for an innocent mistake.

“HA! Trust me, he would make it clear that you were out of his class. People say that he loves making his students squirm and cry more than anything.” Ellie left you, she needed to go meet with her boyfriend.

You didn't get that impression from the professor, sure he was stern but he wasn’t mean to anyone. You decided to not let Ellie’s words taint professor Aemond in your mind, you were going to make your judgement of him. Looking at the clock you realised that you were late for your next class.

__________________________________________

Your next History class was the next week, and your mind was plagued with thoughts of your mysterious professor, his voice was in your dreams as well as himself.

“Oh, professor.” You moaned, hands tangled in his long silver hair.

“Come for me, kitten.” He whispered, his tongue assaulting your clit most deliciously.

Before you could reach your high, you were jolted awake. Ellie was trying to wake you up, you had a thin layer of sweat, your breathing was ragged and you could tell that you were uncomfortably aroused looking down at your sheets you could see a small spot of your juices.

“I’m not gonna lie, hearing you moan like was hot as fuck.” You rolled your eyes at Ellie, ever since she found out that you weren’t that comfortable talking about sex she made it her mission to embarrass you with lewd comments, which she claimed was for your good. “Were you dreaming about me?” The two of you started laughing, she gave you some hot chocolate from Starbucks.

“You wish.”

“Seriously though, who you were dreaming about?” Ellie loved to know everyone’s secrets, you tried to be as guarded as possible in front of her.

“No one in particular.” You sounded convincing enough, only because Ellie didn't know you well enough.

“Fair enough.” She shrugged, Ellie left you alone for now.

You went to take a shower, and the warm water hitting your breasts made you think about your dream with professor Aemond. Your hands travelled to your nipples, they were extremely sensitive making you whimper. The images of Aemond between your legs came into your mind, his hungry look as if he would devour you. One of your hands went to your clit, you were teasing yourself the same way you believe that Aemond would tease you.

You started to make quick and small circles on your clit, you never got so close to your orgasm so quickly before. You were trying to keep quiet, the familiar tightening of your stomach was the alert that you needed that your orgasm was closer.

“Fuck.” It was one of the most intense orgasms that you ever had, and it was thanks to professor Aemond.

You just masturbated to the thought of your professor, how you we're going to look him in the eye?

________________________________

Back to the class, you were back in the same spot, everyone seemed surprised that you were back. You learned from your mistake so you were simply waiting for professor Aemond to come in class. Aemond entered the class, he stopped to look at you and he simply smirked and kept going.

The class was incredible, he knew how to explain things so well. Hearing his voice was making you aroused again, you were crossing your legs. You were uncomfortably wet, the sound of his voice was making you remember your dream and the orgasm from earlier today. But you were paying attention throughout the whole class.

After the class was over you had too many things to gather, so you were the last one in class. You loved your pleated skirts, and you were wearing one Aemond was ogling you admiring your curves he felt like a pervert like his brother, he had many affairs with his students, and nothing was ever proven but Aemond knew the truth. Not even once he felt lust for any of his students but you were so different, you were sexy yet with an air of innocence.

“Are you enjoying my class, miss?” You were startled, Aemond was incredibly close and you didn't notice him coming closer to you.

“Very much, you are great, Professor.” Your smile was so sincere, Aemond wasn’t used to real compliments only empty platitudes.

“I noticed that you were quite squirmish during my class.” Your breathing was caught in your throat, Aemond was getting even closer to you. “Do I make you uncomfortable, pet?” He whispered the last word so close to your ear, Aemond knew that he could be fired for doing this but he knew how to read people, and you were the easiest one to read.

“No, professor.” His eye was violet, you’ve never seen eyes that colour it was gorgeous.

“Hmmm.” His hand went to your hair, and he moved it out of the way. “Good, I’d hate to make one of my greatest students uncomfortable, pet.” You could feel his breathing on your cheek, and just like that, he was far away from you. “I’ll see you next week, pet.” With that, he leaves the classroom, really aroused and confused.

__________________________________

You were utterly obsessed with your professor, you were dreaming about seeing him all week touching yourself every night at the thought of Aemond Targaryen. The worst part of it was that after the second class, he was completely ignoring you. The professor made you lust after him even more and Aemond knew what he was doing, he loved watching you squirm. He purposefully got closer to you whilst he was reading and also during the lecture, but when he saw that you were too flustered he left you.

Once the class was finished you stayed behind, you wanted to talk to your professor but you had no idea what to say. Aemond knew the effect he had on you, just not the extent of it.

“Hi, professor.” Aemond didn't look up to you, he was grading papers.

“Yes, miss?” He seemed annoyed at you, and it made you feel uneasy.

“I’d like some extra credit, I was wondering if you’d like an assistant?” You were so nervous, maybe being as far as possible from professor Aemond but you couldn’t your body yearned for him.

“I must admit that I’ve never taken an assistant before, but there’s a first time for everything.” He stopped grading the papers and grabbed a piece of paper, he started writing something. “My address, you can help me grade my papers. Since you’re my best student, pet.” Heat spread across your face, you loved when he called you that.

“Your house?” You asked incredulously, you assumed that you’d meet in his office.

“My apartment. You don’t want the job, pet?” He was smirking, taunting you. This was the ultimate proof if you refused Aemond would not pursue you ever again. But if you accept it, it was the point of no return his passion would consume you.

“No, what time should I get there?” You tried not to sound too excited, but you were excited.

“9 PM.” His face held nothing, it was another test but you were ready you wanted him.

“I’ll be there.”

You left his class and Aemond was admiring your ass, unabashedly. Aemond was obsessed with you, he tried to find women that looked like you but something was missing, they didn't have the innocent air that you did. He couldn’t wait to see you without the prying eyes of the people from the university.

________________________________________

You were getting ready to get to Aemond’s apartment, you decided to take Coco Chanel’s advice and went for the little black dress. You put on tights and boots, you decided not to put on makeup it might’ve been too much. Ellie entered the bedroom and gasped when she saw you.

“Damn, you look so fucking, hot babe.” Having Ellie as a roommate was a huge confidence booster, she was always complimenting you.

“You think so?” You looked at yourself again in the mirror, you did feel hot.

“Fuck yeah, look at your ass. This date might make you forget about your huge crush on your hot professor.” You widened your eyes, she was laughing at you. “I have to admit you kept your crush hidden for so long but you slipped up, moaning his name one night.” Ellie was loving every second of it, she wanted to figure you out but it was difficult.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” You didn't want to get ridiculed or even worse, the dean to find out and fire Aemond and expel you.

“Of course not, your secret’s safe with me.” Ellie winked at you and smacked your ass. You laughed at her antics, she was a good friend to you most of the time. “Hope you get fucked good tonight.” You heard the horn from the car outside, it was probably her boyfriend.

“I hope so too.” You whispered to yourself.

You entered your used car and you typed Aemond’s address on your phone, it was half an hour away from campus. You were nervous and super excited, you were lucky that it wasn’t snowing right now. Getting to his apartment complex, there was a security booth before you can get there.

“Good evening, who are you here to see?” The man stated through the speaker.

“I’m here for pro…Aemond Targaryen.” You didn't want people finding out that you were his student, the two of you could get in so much trouble. You assumed the man was calling Aemond to confirm that he was waiting for you.

“Come in.” The gate was opened and you entered the apartment complex, it was simply luxurious. You had an idea that Aemond came from money but you didn't know the extent of it.

You left your car and walked to the reception room, there was a receptionist inside.

“Number, please?” The polite man asked, you gave Aemond’s apartment number and the man guided you to the elevator. He pressed the button and left you in the elevator. When it started you felt your palms getting even more sweaty, you were so nervous being alone with your professor.

The doors opened and you were surprised to see a living room, Aemond was nowhere to be found. You decided to look around, the decor was made by a bachelor. Grey and black were the main colours, there weren’t many photos but you found one. It was him and you guessed his siblings and an older man who you assumed to be his father, he looked amazing in the photo. You moved to another photo, it was him and an older woman she looked too young to be his mother but they had the same eyes even if they weren’t the same colour.

“Aren’t you a curious little thing?” His deep voice startled you, for the first time you saw Aemond in a colour other than black, he was wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants you felt overdressed.

“I’m sorry, professor.” It was rude what you were doing, but you couldn’t help yourself there was so little that you about him as a person, despite lusting for him for months.

“Do not apologise.” He came closer to you, his chest was touching your back and his cock was touching your ass, it made you gasp.

“This is my mother, her name is Alicent. You’d like her.” Aemond put his hand on your thigh, you didn't stop him. “Those are my siblings and grandfather.” He inhaled your scent, to him it was intoxicating.

“Your father?” You whispered, afraid to move, afraid that if you moved an inch this moment would be over.

“We shouldn’t spoil this moment with such an unpleasant topic, pet.” That was a warning, he didn't like his father, you concluded. “I adore this dress on your form.” Aemond’s hand was close and yet so far from your pussy. Suddenly he gets away from you, it was as if this moment never happened.

“Shall we start grading the papers?” You couldn’t see it but Aemond had the biggest smirk on his face, he was taunting you, gauging your reaction.

You were getting really tired of this game, you wanted him. You took a deep breath and decided to release him as well, two could play this game. You walked towards him, which made Aemond turn around, when he did he could see your perfect tits due to your cleavage. His eye was trained on them, how much he wanted to play with them, to fuck them, to bite them.

“Yes, professor.” You whispered in the sultriest voice you could muster, Aemond was a master of disguising his emotions but you saw his adam’s apple moving, you got him. “I simply want to thank you for this incredible opportunity, I don’t know how to thank you for it.” You started to trace patterns on his chest, and you got even closer to him.

Aemond seemed speechless he didn't think that his little pet could be so forward, he was enjoying playing with food but this was a welcomed change. He put his lips right on the shell of your ear, goosebumps could be felt all over your body.

“You could start by getting on your knees, pet.” Aemond took a step back, he wanted to see what you would do. You obeyed him, you quickly fell on your knees in front of him. His hand went to your face, caressing it. “Good girl.” You basked in his praise, you wanted to hear it all the time to make him happy, and proud of you. “This is where you belong, isn’t it? On your knees for me.” You simply nodded, ever since you saw him for the first time there was a pull you yearned for him, and he yearned for you.

You could see that his cock was hard, and you were hungry for it. You took bold action and decided to pull his sweatpants down, it was a glorious sight to behold. His cock was massive, by far the biggest one you’ve laid eyes upon. It should’ve intimidated you but it only made you hungrier for it, you looked at him and his hand was still caressing your face, his eye held the same lust and hunger yours did. Aemond slapped you, not hard but enough to get you even wetter, you’ve never had this before, no one ever slapped you and it felt amazing.

After you recovered from the shock and arousal from his hand colliding to your face you started licking the head of cock, Aemond’s hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, head falling back. Without warning you put his cock in your mouth, as much as you could, his groans were fuel for you to take him deeper, you started gagging but Aemond kept you there with his hands.

“That’s it, I’m gonna fuck your throat.” Tears were gathering in your eyes but you didn't care, you wanted to please him. Aemond started guiding your head, he was hitting the back of your throat and you’d never thought that being throatfucked would get you so aroused.

Suddenly Aemond removes his cock from your mouth completely, he gets you up with ease you didn't think he’d be so strong. He wiped the tears off your face and he kissed you. It was nothing like you experienced before, he was being incredibly gentle and soft. The kiss held passion, and lust but also tenderness. Aemond grabbed your ass, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed both of your legs and wrapped them around his waist, and he walked towards his bedroom. Once you were inside his bedroom the two of you stopped kissing to get some air, and he looked gorgeous, his lips were red and puffy from kissing you. You removed yourself from his waist, and it seemed as if he was calculating his next move. If he had sex with you, there was no going back from it, and Aemond was okay with that.

“Are you terribly attached to this dress, pet?” When you shook your head, Aemond ripped your dress from your body exposing the black lingerie that you were wearing.

“Aemond!” You gasped in outrage and also shock, how could he rip a dress so effortlessly? “What I’m gonna wear to go home?” You didn't want to leave, but you didn't want to assume anything either.

“Who told you that you are allowed to leave, pet?” You bit your lip at his statement, which made you feel butterflies. It was Friday, you could stay here all weekend if he allowed you to. “I must devour you first.” With that Aemond dropped you on the bed, the way that he was looking at you it seemed that he was going to devour you, a predator stalking its prey.

He removed your panties with ease and brought them to his nose and he took a deep breath. That was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life, Aemond had a smirk on his face.

“I barely touched you and you are drenched, pet.” He put your legs around his neck, you could feel his breathing on your exposed cunt. “Tell me, are you always like this in my classes? Absolutely drenched in your own juices?” Before you could answer him, you felt his tongue on your clit. It felt heavenly, you moaned, maybe louder than you should have. His movements were good but not enough, his teasing was becoming too much. “Answer me, pet.” How could he possibly want you to form a coherent thought in this state that he put you in?

“Yes, you were all that you could think about professor.” Your hands went to his hair, his movements were getting quicker, and you realised what he wanted. “I dreamed about you after your first class, and I touched myself almost every night at the thought of you.” You were proud of yourself for being able to form a coherent thought.

His movements were getting quicker and quicker, his tongue was circling your clit with speed and precision. Aemond brought his fingers and inserted only one of them inside you.

“Such a tight little cunt, pet. You taste like the sweetest cherry.” Aemond felt you squeezing his finger, he started to hit your magic spot inside you. He was looking at the pleasure on your face, you were a sight to behold, eyes rolling at the back of your head, your mouth in the perfect ‘o’ shape, you were a thing of beauty. Aemond had only one goal in his mind at this moment and he was going to get it, he inserted one more finger and picked up the speed. You arched your back, moaning, almost screaming. He started using his other hand to draw quick and tight circles around your clit.

Something was wrong, in the midst of all of the infinite pleasure that you were feeling the urge to pee came in full force, and you were cursing your body for such terrible timing.

“Aemond, stop.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, if Aemond wasn’t so fixed on watching your every move, he wouldn’t have heard it. But he didn't stop, Aemond was going even faster, you didn't know how that was possible. “I’m gonna pee on you.” You didn't want to admit that, but Aemond left you no choice.

“You’re not going to pee, my little pet. Let go for me.” Aemond kissed your inner thigh as if he had the ultimate control of your body you had the most intense orgasm of your life, you were screaming and Aemond loved every second of it. You squirted, hard. Aemond was devouring every single drop, you were out of it for a few minutes he was helping you ride out your orgasm.

That’s when you felt a cold sensation on your ass, you propped yourself on your elbows and you saw the mess that you made. You were mortified, you peed on the bed of your professor when you looked at Aemond you only saw the hungry look in his eye and his chin was glistening with your juices, you had to admit that was so erotic when he saw the panicked look on your face Aemond only smirked.

“You simply squirted, pet. And I loved every second of it.” Before you could process his words, Aemond was on top of you. He was all-consuming and incredibly intense, you’ve never met anyone like him before.

Aemond aligned his cock at your entrance, he was about to claim you as his. He was met with some resistance but he was able to bury himself deep inside your cunt, Aemond gave some time to adjust to his massive size.

“You are even tighter than I could have possibly imagined, pet.” Aemond was looking deep inside your eyes, the moment felt incredibly intimate his eye held softness. His hand was caressing your cheek and you lined into his touch.

Aemond started moving at a slow pace, you could feel his cock hitting your cervix but it was sensual and slow, not what you were expecting from Aemond. He never broke eye contact, you were moaning and he was groaning, your bodies were connected and you felt as if he could see your soul. Aemond kissed you, the same passion and softness that he was thrusting put on the kiss. You felt overwhelmed, and before you could stop yourself you felt tears running down your face to his silk pillow. Aemond wiped your tears with his thumb, no words were exchanged but it wasn’s necessary.

You could feel another orgasm approaching, that’s when Aemond picked up his pace he wanted to cum with you. Again no words were spoken only moans and grunts, you could feel Aemond’s thrusts getting sloppy, he was getting close to his orgasm.

“Cum with me.” You whispered and that was what triggered your simultaneous orgasms, Aemond put his head at the crook of your neck trying to pick up his breath. Your hands were on his back, and suddenly you felt incredibly tired you wanted to stay awake but you body didn't allow you, sleep came like a freight train.

When Aemond removed his head from the crook of your neck, he realised that you were already asleep. With all the care in the world, Aemond removed his softening cock from your pussy that’s when he saw both of your juices on your pussy and a little bit on your inner thighs. He went to his bathroom and grabbed a warm and soft towel, he cleaned you and then himself and he went to sleep right next to you.

_______________________________

You woke up disoriented and very thirsty, and Aemond was nowhere to be found. When you looked at the watch you thought that you were mistaken, was it 2:37 PM? You went to the bathroom and you peed, after you left the bathroom you realised that your dress was torn apart on the floor. You found the shirt that Aemond was wearing last night and you put it on your body, inhaled its scent you left the bedroom.

Aemond was cooking something for you to eat, it smelled divine. He was in the kitchen with only his grey sweatpants, you could see his muscled back and arms, he looked heavenly.

“Good morning.” Aemond turned around to see you, hair messy with his shirt on and still sleepy he has never seen a more beautiful sight.

“How did you sleep?” Aemond left his kitchen and came around to kiss you, his hand went to your face.

“Well.” There an elephant in the room that neither of you wanted to address, but it needed to be discussed so Aemond decided to be the brave one.

“If you couldn’t discern from my actions last night, I want to pursue a relationship with you.” Aemond was holding your hand, he couldn’t bear to look at you and see the rejection or even worse, humour on your face.

“There’s nothing else that I’d like more.” He was stunned by your answer but kissed you, this kiss was deeper more lust than softness.

“That is a relief, I hope you like…” Aemond was interrupted by the ding on the elevator, there was only one person that had permission to enter his house without being announced and he didn't want this meeting to happen in such circumstances.

“Aemond, your father is calling me to let you know that…” Alicent stopped talking once she saw you and her son, holding hands and you wearing his shirt. “I apologise, I should have called but you know how your father is.” She decided to act as if this was a normal occurrence, seeing her son’s girlfriend in nothing but his shirt. “I’m Alicent, Aemond’s mother and what is your name dear?” You told Alicent your name and she smiled brightly at you, Aemond was right you did like her.

“Mother, I am not going to visit him. He has his precious daughter by his side.” Aemond’s tone held nothing but venom, you felt as if you were intruding. When you tried to leave, he held you in place, arms around your waist and kissing your temple. Despite the circumstances, Alicent loved seeing her son so happy the fact that you were the one bringing him happiness made her like you instantly.

“He wants all of his children in his death bed, Haleana is there as well.” Aemond scoffed, his sister was too lovely to reject a dying man’s wish. He was happy that Aegon and Daeron weren’t there either. “Well, I tried. You know where he is in case you change your mind.” Alicent kissed his cheek and looked at him, she then looked at you and caressed your arm. “It was lovely to meet you, love.” With that Alicent left the apartment.

Aemond didn't let go of you, many emotions were running through his head.

“I think you should go.” You spoke after minutes of silence.

“Why?” Aemond wasn’t judging your words, he was curious to know your reasoning.

“When someone hurts us, it’s important to have closure. Even if it’s yell, if he dies without you talking about your trauma it might be worse in the future. Get your closure and that way moving on is easier.” He knew that you were right, it was something that Haleana talked to him about many times. She was a better person, she was able to forgive the years of neglect and abuse but Aemond couldn’t there were things that he needed to say.

“Alright, I’ll go there.” Aemond kissed your cheek. “But you are coming with me, pet.” It was an unconventional way to start a relationship but you wanted this, you wanted Aemond body and soul.

“Okay.”

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flowerandblood · 7 months

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Prepare not for angst. This is THE ANGST.

#professor aemond is fucking dark shit

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lyraoftheevergreens · 2 days

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MASTER LIST

House of the Dragon

(Coming soon)

Harry Potter

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shesjustanothergeek · 9 months

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Requests are now open in celebration of my lovely followers!

I just looked at my follower count, and the last time I checked, I had 13. Tell me why I have 852 of you amazing little creatures now. Like I am just blown away that many people decided to follow a literal nobody.

Most of my following was generated from my Aegon fanfic because that's the only thing that garnered any attention. I'm planning on doing a celebration for having so many people.

I am officially opening my requests for the first time ever in honor of all 852 and counting of you! However, this is for a limited amount of time, and there are some guidelines I will put in place just to make things easier for both of us.

Here's a little bit about that:

My requests will be closed once I reach 1k followers (I will be doing something else for that. I still haven't decided tho.)

The requests can only be about fandoms/characters/people I am familiar with. I want these stories that I publish to be perfect and cater to your interests, and if they are about something I need to familiarize myself with, I'm afraid of producing something that we both might not like.

It'll take around a week for me to write the specific work (depending on the length) because I do work full time and also have other projects I'm working on. A week per request.

I'm willing to write about pretty much anything and everything content-wise, including kinks. The ones I am uncomfortable writing for are scat play, specifically degrading a reader's/character's body, omegaverse (only because I don't know much about it), and race play. Please message me directly if you have any questions about other things I don't have listed.

I will only accept one-shots or drabbles, nothing that would be over 13k words. However, if I get into the groove of things and it flows naturally, it could be over that.

Also, if you want to remain anonymous, I'll stick to that, and if you'd like the request to just be for you and not be posted, just tell me. Otherwise, I will dedicate that work to you and publish it.

Well, that's the end of that. I feel like a self-important celebrity and I hate it. Feel free to ask me any questions in the comments below or privately. I'll be more than happy to answer. Once again, thank y'all so much for supporting me! And to the sex spam accounts that follow me, I hope both sides of your pillow forever remain hot.

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neptuneiris · 10 months

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cardigan (01/03)

you drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleedin'.

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 7.3k

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hello! i'm very happy to include myself also here with fanfics of aemond, our husband:) this is my first post here on tumblr and i have many more planned. also english is not my first language but i'm still learning. without further ado, enjoy!

Being in love with your best friend for a long time is one of the most beautiful feelings but also one of the most heartbreaking.

Especially if the feeling is not reciprocated.

Even though he and you are very different in some ways, like he's the extroverted person and you're the introverted one in friendship or he comes from a rich family and you've always been the scholar in everything, you still have a lot of things in common.

And that's why you're both best friends.

Even when you met him in high school, in the most prestigious school in King's Landing, you being a scholarship student obviously, you would have never imagined that there were those things in common between him and you.

Until the history teacher asked for a team project of two and you ended up paired with Aemond Targaryen.

You felt it would be the death of you the moment the most popular and richest boy in the whole school focused his eyes on you for the first time by identifying you as his partner.

Already some girls were making cruel comments to you every time they looked at you in the hallways or in the classrooms about not being on the same level because you didn't have money like all of them.

And now teaming up with Aemond Targaryen himself for a History project, you thought, would be unbearable and insufferable.

He was popular. Exaggeratedly popular.

Popular with all the girls because of his good looks and they made comments about how much they wanted to date him. And you understood them, because Aemond's appearance could not simply go unnoticed.

Tall, white skin, distinguished features and incredible long platinum hair. But more than anything else, his sapphire eye caught the attention.

Where his left eye should have been, it was replaced by that precious sapphire jewel. While her other untouched eye was a beautiful lilac color.

And even with that look he didn't push people away nor was he intimidating, on the contrary, the sapphire was what attracted people around him, especially girls.

The favorite of all the teachers, he was the most handsome, popular and richest in the whole school, a lover of parties, reading, piano and sports.

They said he was kind and a good person, but you were suspicious. You thought he must be arrogant like most of the rich students in that place if he was the richest student of all.

And if he was nice to you, surely it must be to keep up his appearance of the nice popular guy that everyone loves and wants as a friend.

But how wrong you were…

As you and Aemond made progress on the project until you finished it and handed it in to the professor, you realized that he really is a nice guy.

Still, you were left in doubt, thinking that possibly by the time you finished the project, he and you wouldn't have to spend any more time together and he would ignore you.

But your surprise was great when in History class, which was the only class you shared together, he started sitting next to you, had a conversation with you, and you did a few more team assignments at his request.

And yet you were still suspicious.

Until one day when you were putting away a few books and notebooks in your locker, the same group of girls that always bothered you showed up again and started with their cruel and mocking comments.

You were used to them, what you weren't used to was being made fun of more openly in public. And just when you felt you were about to start crying in the middle of it all, just making the situation worse, without them stopping teasing you down the hall, Aemond appeared.

It was only enough to place himself in front of you in protective way, with a serious and cold look, to then speak to them in a deadly tone if they were already finished.

The surprised and bewildered girls didn't understand at first why he was so defensive about you.

"Stop bothering her. I don't want to see or know that you did it again."

Those had been the simple and last words enough for him to address to the group of girls in the middle of the hallway and then grab your shoulder and start carrying you away from there along with him.

And from there it all started.

You and Aemond started getting to know each other better and spending time together as friends. He even started inviting you to lunch with him and his friends in the cafeteria.

And as a result of that you discovered a common taste for reading, as well as musical tastes, series and movie sagas or genres, until you became best friends.

The friendship continued after graduating from high school and after applying to the same university until today. Aemond decided to follow the same path as his entire family and chose a career in management, while you chose a career in psychology.

After you both found out that you had been accepted to King's Landing University, Aemond started talking about how he would now rather have his own apartment near the university than choose a residence hall or a fraternity.

And you decided, because of the scholarship, to have to choose the residence hall.

The problem was that you would have to be paying monthly to keep your room, not too much but the money you were getting from your parents wouldn't be enough and you weren't willing to ask them for more.

So you mentioned the fact that you would have to get a part-time job near the university so it wouldn't be complicated and everything would be in your favor.

But Aemond, absurd, told you that it was not necessary, neither the job nor the residence, to later tell you that you could be his roomie and live the dream of living together, like every wish of two best friends.

"Have you lost your mind? How will I be able to live with you, Aemond?"

"Well, as normal, like you live with your parents, but now the two of us together in an apartment."

He explains with all the simplicity in the world, as if it was no big deal, while you look at him completely distrustful and absurd.

"No, Aemond. You're not—

"I've already got it all planned out, okay?"

He interrupts you while he takes a bite of his green apple and continues leaning casually against the kitchen counter of his house.

"Helaena helped me find a very good apartment near the university, it has everything necessary with two bedrooms and two private bathrooms," he explains, "I already talked to the agent, I'll go to see the apartment this Thursday, you can even come with me to tell me what you think and probably a week before we enter the university I'll pay what it costs and it will be all mine."

"You will pay what it costs?" you repeat in shock.

"Yeah," he answers you with all the simplicity in the world.

"Are you actually going to buy the apartment?"

"Yeah," he answers now confused, "Didn't you hear everything I said?"

"But I thought it was a rent, not a purchase."

"What? No. I'm going to buy the apartment, I don't want rent."

He makes it clear to you and now you stay completely silent, watching him even with that slight surprise and also still feeling how absurd his proposal of living together is.

In fact, this is very Aemond Targaryen.

It shouldn't even surprise you that he can afford something like this, obviously because of his rich family. But still, you're not like him in that aspect and that's why you're surprised.

"In fact I want to speed up the whole process, I don't want to be at the last minute arranging everything when we're already going into class. So go tell your parents the news and pack your things."

You let out a long breath, running a hand through your hair.

"No, Aemond, I…" you bite your lips, speaking in a soft tone, "I really appreciate you wanting to do this with me but I can't pay you to live together in an apartment that probably costs more than I do. The residency for the scholarship will be charged to me at a low price and—

"And who said I want you to pay me?"

He interrupts you in a serious tone, looking at you in the same way and you look at him incredulously.

"Well, in some way I have to pay you, don't I?" you ask him, "The apartment will be yours, you're the one who paid for it and I can't live there with you for free."

"Y/N, you are my best friend and I am not going to charge you when you know I can pay for it."

"You can't pay for electricity, water and everything without me giving you money in return, Aemond."

"I don't need it. I'm asking you to live together because I really want us to live together, isn't that what you also told me it would be amazing to do together?"

"Yes, but not like this and you know it," you answer with some sadness.

That Aemond is the one who pays for everything so you can live together comfortably only makes you feel like you are taking advantage of him and useless, but obviously you will never say that to him.

Aemond gets very upset when you refer to yourself in a bad way. And even though he's offering you this because he really wants you to do this together, he still makes you feel bad for not contributing anything.

"Hey Y/N," he says and then starts to walk around the bar towards you, "It's okay, really."

And soon enough when he reaches out to you, he pulls you into an embrace as you continue to sit on the stool and he stands in front of you.

His big strong arms lock you against his body protectively as you bury your face in his chest and his fingers begin to gently stroke your hair.

His clean, fresh scent envelops you completely, only making the embrace more pleasant. And you allow yourself to feel close to him and melt in his arms.

You allow it even though you feel more and more that strong feeling that you wish you didn't feel so much but up to this point it's unavoidable.

"How about this? I'll do everything I told you while you take care of the food and laundry."

He asks you with a certain excited tone, and a small smile on his lips as you pull away from each other just enough, without breaking the embrace, just so you can both see each other's faces.

And you are still not very sure, and not because you don't want to do it, but because you still don't think you have much to contribute, which he notices.

"Don't you want to be my roomie?" he asks you now with a sad and disappointed tone, "Don't you want to watch movie marathons and series with me, eat unhealthy food and stay up until four in the morning?"

You inevitably let out a small laugh at the mere thought of them being wonderful plans.

"And watch those Egyptian documentaries you like so much?" you add.

"Those and also watching the whole Harry Potter saga, although I don't understand your obsession with those movies."

"Now that's why my answer is no."

You both laugh softly and then he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead to lock you in his arms again.

And now you are both here.

It's been months since you both moved into his apartment together and you took into account Aemond's words to convince you and make you feel good about living together.

While he takes care of everything financially, you take care of doing both of your laundry, cleaning the apartment, paying the HBO account and buying the food, although sometimes he also buys to make a special meal that he likes.

All while fulfilling college and also plans to stay home together some weekends watching documentaries, movies or series until four in the morning.

It has been very rare the time you have gone out partying together, mostly because you are the one who prefers to stay at home instead of going to parties.

But when Aemond wants to party, sometimes you go with him or sometimes you don't, just as he also sometimes accompanies you on your movie weekend or sometimes not.

College has been tough, neither of them will deny it, but they've managed to get through their respective careers and so far being roomies has been wonderful.

And of course, even though your respective career departments aren't close, even in your areas you've heard your best friend's name.

You both just got into college and he again became a well-known and popular person, while you have only made three real friends, Aileen, Sara and Ryan. But despite this, Aemond never forgets his best friend any more than you forget him.

As if you could.

And everything is going great so far.

It's already getting dark, you can see it through the big windows of the apartment, listening to music on your phone while you finish preparing dinner for you and Aemond who shouldn't be long in coming.

He had texted you an hour ago saying he would have a two hour class and would probably be a little late, so you do this for him while singing and humming your favorite songs softly.

You finish serving everything on the plates when you hear a message notification. You leave everything ready on the bar, wipe your hands and pick up your phone to look at the screen, reading a message from your friend Aileen.

[Aileen Herron]: party on saturday?

You frown and are about to answer her message with a no when you hear the sound of the door opening in quick motion and then you see Aemond walk in with a huge smile on his lips and a completely lit up face.

"Hello, pretty one."

You smile with an accusatory look as you stop the music and put your phone back on the bar, watching him carefully.

"Now what's wrong with you? Your two-hour class was amazing?"

He lets out a snort as he throws his backpack on the couch and takes a seat in front of you on one of the stools.

"I wish. It was so fucking boring."

"So why are you smiling like that?"

And again her smile appears, only this time a little more subtle but still excited.

"I have a date."

And that's when again, like every time this happens, you feel your heart shrink and start to break a little bit more with each time your best friend lets you know news like this.

And not wanting to appear false, just as you don't want to show that his words hurt you, you maintain as best you can that genuine smile you put on when he arrived at the apartment so happily.

"Oh really?"

"Yes," he answers you excitedly, "It turns out that when I got out of class and said goodbye to my friends, I was heading to the parking lot when a girl bumped into me…."

And there comes the part where they both apologize, then they start talking, they both start flirting and at the end they exchange numbers.

"She's so pretty, her name is Alys."

You bite your lips and nod keeping the best face you can while this time you start walking around the kitchen and he continues talking, not being able to bear to see his face any closer as he tells you about her.

"She's also studying management so it's more perfect, only she's three semesters ahead of me."

You clear your throat, pouring some soda for both of us.

"So she's older than you."

You say trying not to sound distant and disinterested, to which Aemond shrugs his shoulders at your question.

"Three years is nothing."

You nod, taking a sip of your drink, starting dinner.

"And when is the date?" you ask without looking at him.

"This Saturday. I'm taking her to my mother's favorite restaurant, the one I took you to once, remember?"

Again you nod, feeling a little more that little sharp pain in your chest, but you pretend that nothing is happening and that you're just… happy and excited for him.

"Well, you'll tell me how it went."

You try to smile even a little in his direction and at this he just smiles a little more.

"I hope everything goes well. I really liked her a lot."

And again at this, you have no idea what else to say and remain silent, although he soon speaks again.

"This is for me?" he points to the other plate.

"For who else?" you say obviously and amused.

He laughs and brings the plate towards him.

"Thank you, pretty one."

You try not to let those nicknames affect you at all. But before you know it, it has inevitably gotten to you, as it has countless other times. But you didn't want it to affect you knowing that he has a date this saturday.

"And do you have plans this weekend?" he asks you, more than anything to create conversation after talking about his date.

"Hmm… I don't know yet."

"You don't know?"

He asks you with an expectant look and you just look at him without saying anything and then shrug your shoulders and focus back on your dinner.

"You know, you should… go out."

He says suddenly in a soft voice and you look away from your plate to focus on him again.

"What about your friends from class? Don't they ask you out to party or something?"

"You know I don't like parties, Aemond," you reply in a more serious tone than you expected it to be.

"Yes, I know, but…" he sighs, "I'm just saying that it would do you good to go out once in a while and not stay here all the time."

"I always stay here," you say confused, "I don't understand why you're suddenly worried about that if that's what I've been doing since we've been living together."

"I know," he says cautiously and with an understanding look, "but I mean when I go out partying with my friends, I don't like to know that you're staying here alone. Nor like now that I have a date on saturday and you'll be here again."

You watch him in silence for a few seconds, and he takes the opportunity to continue talking.

"You should meet new people, don't you think?" he asks softly, "The university is very big. Maybe you should meet new people who love to stay at home watching movies and shows like you. That way you'll have company while I'm gone because I…" he grimaces, "I won't always have time for you."

And at that moment, you think you're overreacting, that it's no big deal, that it's just a piece of advice with all the good intentions of your best friend, that you shouldn't.

But still, try as you might, you can't help but feel broken by hearing his words.

Maybe he didn't mean it that way nor did he intend to make you understand those words, but it's like he's telling you that you have no friends, that he's your only friend and that you should meet more people.

And in the face of this, you try not to break down at that moment, so you quickly want to pretend that everything is fine and that everything he said is also fine.

"Yeah, of course, you're right."

You get up with your dirty plate, taking it to the dishwasher to start washing it quickly, turning your back to him.

"Y/N—

"When you finish eating, leave the plate here, I'll wash it in a moment, now I have to finish doing some homework," you interrupt him sounding as normal and casual as possible.

"I didn't mean anything bad Y/N, I just—

"Yes, I know."

You force yourself to interrupt him again putting on your best nonchalant face, turning to him, drying your hands once you finish. And with nothing more to say, you leave the kitchen and head for your room.

That same night you comply with what you say, wanting to clear your head, knowing perfectly well that when you let Aemond know that you are doing homework, he doesn't interrupt you unless it is extremely necessary.

So you take advantage of that and without leaving your room anymore, once you're done you take a shower and get ready for bed.

You find it a bit hard to sleep as you overthink too much, thinking about Aemond more than anything else, about his date and everything he told you afterwards.

It had happened before… Aemond had already told you about going on dates and how they had turned out, you've seen him flirt with many girls at parties, restaurants and at school itself.

You know the feeling. That ugly, heartbreaking feeling.

So why do you again feel like your heart is breaking over his now new date?

Normally all the dates Aemond goes on, never go any further. Aemond hasn't had a single girlfriend since your friendship began.

Nothing tells you that this date could be any different. Maybe he'll only go out with her two or three times and then tell you it was just something to hang out, as usual.

However, you never know.

The next day you and Aemond don't see each other during the day.

Normally on fridays you have class at seven in the morning while he has classes a little later, so once you finish getting ready you leave the apartment and head to the university.

In the course of your classes, your friend Aileen tells you that since you probably don't plan on going out with her and your other friends to party tomorrow Saturday, it would at least be a good plan for you all to go out together tonight for dinner.

And you agree.

Leaving class the four of you head to a fast food restaurant and pass the time talking about school, gossip and so on. At least being with your friends makes you forget about the outside world for a moment and you just laugh and have a good time.

Until the hour starts to get late, Ryan drives Aileen to her residence in his car and Sara is the one who drives you.

You turn the doorknob and enter the apartment looking forward to sleep, as you should since it's almost two in the morning. Usually on weekends you stay up very late but this night especially doesn't seem to be the occasion.

You close the door behind you and start to head to your room, when you enter the living room and find Aemond very comfortable on one of the sofas looking at you at the same time you are looking at him.

You stay quiet for a moment, thinking about just walking in and wishing him good night, but he's the one who speaks first.

"There you are," he murmurs, looking at you seriously, not having his usual soft look as usual, "I was already worried."

"Why?"

"Why?" he repeats incredulously, "I didn't know where you were. I sent you hundreds of messages and you didn't answer. Also I called you and still nothing."

You frown.

"That's not true. You didn't call me."

"I did call you, Y/N."

He tells you more serious than before, almost annoyed and you, confused, pick up your phone and turn on the screen to see that he did indeed call you and sent you hundreds of messages.

The problem? You had your phone on mute and being with your friends you didn't really bother to take your phone out of your pocket.

You let out a long breath and put it back with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, it was on mute," you say briefly.

"And where were you?"

"I went to dinner with friends."

Now he lets out a sigh.

"You could at least let me know you were going to arrive late."

At first you think to yourself that you don't understand why he makes such a big deal about it. As if he wouldn't do exactly the same thing you've done when he decides to go off with his friends to party.

However, you don't want to argue, you just want to sleep.

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," you mumble, then yawn, "I'll go to sleep."

You are about to walk back to your room but he speaks again.

"So soon?"

You watch him sleepily as he, in his most comfortable clothes, seems to be watching one of his favorite documentaries with some chips, like you always do together every friday.

Except this friday.

"It's two in the morning, Aemond."

"Yes, I know, but I thought you might want to watch a movie, as usual," he says softly, "I bought some of the pizza you like, and also some of the—

"I'm full and very sleepy now, Aem. Another day, yeah?"

You don't even wait for an answer, you just go to your room.

And the next morning you wake up later than usual and you don't even want to get out of bed.

Fortunately you don't run into Aemond, even though saturday mornings is when you have breakfast together and watch movies until noon. But not today.

And you know perfectly well it's because you've been avoiding him. It's what you always do when Aemond lets you know about his next date or after you see him making out with some girl at a party.

And you know you're wrong. But that's the only way you can stop feeling that little sharp pain in your chest and this discomfort all over your being.

Until night falls, you and Aemond finally talk after not seeing each other all day to tell you he's leaving. He don't even need to say where.

Then he leaves and you are left alone in the apartment.

Finally, what you were hoping for and dreading at the same time happens.

Aemond has fallen in love. Your best friend has fallen in love.

In the end that girl wasn't just to hang out or to forget about her overnight. Aemond went on countless dates with her, which was unusual and eventually the two formalized everything and started dating.

You stopped avoiding him because you knew you couldn't do it forever. You both live together, he is your best friend and if he is going through this now, as much as it hurts, you can only smile and feel happy for him because he really looks happy.

You even met the girl, Alys Rivers.

And as soon as you saw her for the first time when Aemond brought her to the apartment to introduce the two of you, you understood.

Alys is tall, black-haired, with beautiful features, a slender body and possesses the most intense and striking green eyes you've ever seen. Even the way she spoke, smiled, laughed and walked was striking, she was alluring, everything about her screamed the word sexy and elegant.

How could Aemond not like her, when she is so educated, beautiful and also studies the same as him?

Now you understood why Aemond wanted things to really work out this time with this girl. And now everything, little by little, has been different.

With your best friend now having someone, now his time is counted between college and her.

The two of you still spend time together, you live together obviously, but you have seen each other in less time when before the first person you saw when you woke up was Aemond and when you went to sleep as well.

They are getting shorter and shorter on fridays for movies and series, on saturdays you barely see each other during the day and on sundays he totally disappears from the apartment and you don't see each other at all.

Luckily today is friday and Aemond apparently has no plans, not even with Alys, as you both find yourselves watching your favorite movie in the living room while eating chips and as much junk food as possible.

"From so many times you've made me watch this movie with you, I'm already starting to hate it."

You look at your best friend in surprise and completely indignant and then throw a pillow that hits him perfectly in the face.

"How dare you? I didn't say anything about your boring and incredibly long documentaries."

Now he's the one looking at you surprised and indignant.

"What did you just say?"

"Just some of them, not all of them," you clarify, "But those some of them are really unbearable."

"You know what your problem is? That you love the plot of some people trying to get out of a huge maze while my documentaries talk about true historical facts and not pure fiction about dystopias."

"Boring," you sing in long tones.

He lets out a small laugh as he shakes his head and you look at him with a small amused smile.

"You are unbearable."

"Oh come on Aemond, you still like these movies, even if you don't want to admit it."

"Not in a million years."

"You keep fooling yourself but you're not fooling me."

He doesn't say anything back to you because at that moment he receives a message and he looks at his phone quickly.

You watch him briefly, slowly erasing your smile, already anticipating what is going to happen and he confirms it with his next words while still focused on his screen.

"Alys wants me to go with her to a party with her friends."

You don't say anything, you just focus on the movie, avoiding making a bad face, telling yourself to control yourself.

"Well, you don't mind, do you?" he observes you, "I have to go now and pick her up."

You instantly put on a nonchalant face and deny without taking your eyes off the movie.

"Of course not."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," he says as he gets up, walks over to place a quick kiss on your forehead and then rushes off to his room to get ready.

After that, that's what happens all the time now.

When he finally keeps you company to watch a movie or a series, Alys calls him and he runs to her. It has even happened several times that you arrive at the apartment after school and they are here hanging out.

On saturdays he runs to have breakfast with her, he also leaves with her that same day in the night, also on fridays and on sundays the two of them barely see each other in the night.

Even many nights Aemond has not come to sleep and the next morning when he finally comes back to the apartment, he tells you that he had spent the night at Alys' sisterhood with her.

Alys has also spent nights here. You overhear her and him as they arrive late at the apartment and head to her room. Fortunately you haven't heard anything more than that.

And because of all this, it is that you have become closer to your friends and have gone to as many parties with them, as you can't bear to arrive at the apartment knowing that Aemond is not there and won't show up until the next day.

You know you have developed a dependency on him, which you know is wrong and you avoided with all your might that it wasn't so but in the end it was so.

That's why now you're thankful that you're hanging out more with your other friends. But still, you miss your best friend a lot. He doesn't have time for you anymore and you can't help but feel sad, disappointed and broken because of that.

You understand that Alys is his girlfriend and the best friend shouldn't be more important than the girlfriend, but still, you can't help it.

You're happy for him, you really are. So now you're just left to be content with the little times he and you now have together. Like, for example, his birthday.

He had already told you how he plans to go with his family during the afternoon and then in the night he wants to go out partying with his friends, with you and Alys.

He told you that you could invite your friends, who fortunately they accepted since you didn't want to be alone surrounded by Aemond's friends, whom you know very little and his girlfriend.

So now you get up earlier than usual to go get his present and once you get back to the apartment you hide it in your room, then when you go out again he opens the door of his room at the same time, still sleepy and you throw yourself in his arms.

"Happy birthday!" you exclaim happily between his chest and neck.

He lets out a hoarse little laugh as he locks you in his arms.

"Thank you, pretty one."

You pull away from him smiling.

"How are you feeling?"

He raises an expectant eyebrow at you, amused, still recovering from his sleep.

"How do I feel about my birthday?"

"Yes," you reply simply, "How does it feel to wake up and know that you are now twenty-one?"

"I feel younger instead of older."

"Oh really?"

"When you turn twenty-one you'll understand."

"And why is that?"

He looks at you more expectantly than before and crosses his arms, watching you with amusement.

"That's a lot of talk, tell me what you're hiding."

You instantly feign innocence.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's my birthday present, isn't it?"

"I mean… it is your birthday, but not-hey!" you shout as you see him quickly walk past you and head to your room, where his present is.

"You're hiding my present, I know."

"No, no, wait."

You stand in front of him, between him and your door, panicking, and he looks at you expectantly again.

"Yes, yes, it's your birthday present."

"And I can't see it yet?"

"Yes, but not like this," you say indignantly and then look at him confused, "How did you know?"

He laughs.

"Because I know you."

And soon Aemond finds himself opening the huge gift box you bought for him so you could put in the little puppy you decided to adopt and then Aemond could adopt him.

"No fucking way," he says in disbelief and surprise.

And so he soon holds in his arms the small female dog of the Maltipoo breed with a very light brown fur.

Adoration completely covers your best friend's gaze and he completely melts into the little dog as he licks his hand and face at the same time as Aemond squeals with tenderness and gives him kisses.

And the image couldn't have been more tender and adorable for you.

"I adopted her. She was given to me with a name, it's on her collar. If you don't like it, you can change it, although I think that one suits her perfectly."

Aemond, still watching and holding him tenderly, looks at the collar and reads it.

"Vhagar," and then turns his attention to her with a small smile, "Your name is Vhagar?" he says in a honeyed tone, "Yeah? Do you like that name, my little one?"

He plays with it for a few more moments and then turns his attention back to you, still with all that tenderness and that little smile of excitement.

"Thank you so much, my pretty one."

And again you both embrace while Vhagar is in the middle of you both and also starts to lick your hand making you laugh in tenderness.

After spending the whole morning together playing and getting to know Vhagar, whom Aemond doesn't want to let go, then you both go to a restaurant near the apartment to start with his birthday and just be the two of you.

And finally Aemond goes to his parents' house. He invited you but you decided it was better for him to spend some time with his family only, so you stay home with Vhagar.

Eventually the hours pass and the night comes, which means it's time.

You fix your hair in soft waves, put on a little more makeup than usual to highlight your face, and choose a black skirt, white top, and black booties from your closet.

Aemond calls you down the hall telling you it's time and you both leave the apartment to go pick up Alys and then get to the frat house where his friends live.

The night goes by incredibly long. Even though you are in the company of your friends, you can't help but stare at Aemond who enjoys his girlfriend's company more than anyone else.

You only manage to take one picture with him when you used to fill your gallery on his birthdays, even played every party game possible and now… he's only with Alys.

Even by the time it's too late, the party still isn't over and he finally talks to you after hours to ask if one of your friends would take you home, since he's sleeping over with Alys.

You don't say anything else, just that Ryan will give you a ride and he nods to go back to Alys. It's not like you could tell him anything, you still didn't want to, because after all it is his birthday.

Today is another very vague and rare night in which Aemond stays at home with you and does not leave with Alys.

You don't complain, on the contrary, you enjoy his and Vhagar's company. You are both watching one of his documentaries and it is a really interesting one, not one of the boring ones.

Aemond talks to you and explains you about his assumptions, also about what he thinks while you are sitting next to him and Vhagar is very comfortably asleep on his lap.

You also share your opinions and some doubts that he answers, both of you without taking your eyes off the screen.

Time passes and you happily believe that you will last this way until the early morning, as it used to be, feeling excited and enjoying his company on nights like these, as you had missed him.

When then, it happens.

You hear the notification of how a message has been sent to him and he looks at the screen, then confirms what you didn't want so much, feeling instantly disappointed.

"There's a party at Alys' sisterhood, she wants me to come."

And knowing he'll look at you, you quickly feign your unconcerned, unaffected look.

"Do you want to come?"

You want to laugh and let out a snort, because it's not like you like the idea of going to his girlfriend's party knowing that he'll leave you alone to be with her.

"No," you reply in the softest possible voice, "I'll stay here with Vhagar."

"Are you sure?" he looks at you with a grimace.

"It's all right Aemond, you go."

He lets out a long breath as he looks back down at his screen to move his fingers on it briefly, then gently removes Vhagar from his lap and gets up from the couch to go get ready.

All your good looks disappear as he turns his back to you and before you know it, you let out a long sigh of disappointment loud enough for him to stop and watch you.

Nerves get the better of you and you look at him again pretending everything is fine, but he knows it's not.

"Y/N," he calls you in a soft voice, walking back to you, "I know we haven't been spending time together like before and—

"You'll be getting late," you quickly try to evade the subject so as not to talk about it, "If you're not going to arrive here to sleep let me know by message."

He lets out a long breath, looking a little distrustful and worried.

"Look," he says as he takes a seat next to you again, "I just want to tell you that I know we don't spend time together like we used to. I don't think you or I expected me to suddenly have a girlfriend—

Clearly not.

You think.

"But I want you to know that not spending time with you was not intentional," he assures you, then takes your hands in his, "And I'm going to make it up to you, I promise."

That's what you always say.

You want to say it, but you just stay silent, watching him, while he looks at you with all the tenderness and with that look that convinces you to believe in his words.

"I've missed our weekends, believe me. And I hate to leave you like this," he confesses, "But I really don't want you to think that I'm choosing Alys over you, I love you both very much and I want to have that balance in my life between her and you."

And at this point her words are actually hurting you instead of helping you.

"Aemond, it's okay," you assure him, even though it's not, "Alys is your girlfriend. It's obvious that you spend more time with her than with me and I totally understand that."

"Really?"

"Yes, I promise," you assure him and you couldn't be more of a liar at the moment.

"I still feel bad."

"Aemond, it's okay. You should go now, I don't want to delay you any more with this hour," you say so the conversation is already over.

"No, just let me…" he insists, then lets out a long breath, "Look, I know you," he murmurs, looking at you sadly, "I know none of this is right. But I promise I will make it up to you," he assures you, "After all, my family's ball at Dragonstone is next weekend, remember?"

You frown, grateful for the change in conversation but still a little confused.

"I thought it wasn't happening this year."

"It has to be held every year, my mother would have a heart attack if it didn't happen and you know it."

You both laugh a little, while he watches you attentively without letting go of your hands, as well as you let go of his.

"So we'll go together?" you ask, not entirely convinced.

And at your question he is offended.

"Of course we'll go together. We go together every year."

"Yes, but now that you—

"I'm not taking Alys," he interrupts you and his words surprise you, "This ball belongs to both of us, it always has. And I'm not going to break the tradition."

And at his words, this time, genuinely, you can't help but place a small closed-mouth smile as you feel how again this little spark between him and you begins to revive little by little.

Also the hope, that everything will be again, even if it's just a little, like before.

"Also now your birthday is next," he says with a small smile, "I've already got your present, just to let you know."

And at this you put on a small smile.

"You're not supposed to tell me, dumbass."

He laughs.

"I wanted you to know," he says softly.

Then a brief, comfortable silence settles between the two of you, you both smile softly and all seems to be well again between you.

"Then start getting everything ready for the ball, okay?"

"All right," you nod, feeling happy.

"It will be amazing. You'll see."

You believe him.

You really do.

The ball on behalf of his family is a way to celebrate the success of the great company they run, as well as to have the possibility to form new partners or make better contracts. Since the friendship between you and Aemond began, he has invited you every year to be his escort and you have never let him down.

All the decorations are wonderful, the food too and eventually when the important people leave, that's when the real party starts for you and it's all great fun with Aemond's brothers who invite friends.

You thought that this time it wouldn't be like that since he has his girlfriend now and maybe he would want to take her instead of you, but how wrong you were.

And not too long after that it is your birthday, which is a very special day for you and Aemond, as every year he really makes you feel very special.

With those dates coming up and these words of promise, what could go wrong?

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #hotd aemond

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

Teacher's Pet (modern!HOTD)

read the second installment Lessons

pairing: professor!Aemond x student!Reader

summary: A night out during the spring semester of your senior year of university leads to a run-in with your former professor.

warnings: NSFW 18+ (explicit sex, unprotected, fingering, oral fem-receiving, overstimulation, titty sucking, praise, degrading language) mature themes, power imbalance

word count: 4.5k

note: I got a saucy little anon saying y'all needed a student x teacher fic from me, and to celebrate 3,000 besties I had to deliver!! thanks for all the love and support, you all mean the absolute world to me! Excited to keep creating for you all, ilysm 😘

You and your best friend Sara Snow grew up together, and spent nearly every waking moment attached at the hip. You know those friends you have that are more like siblings than friends? Sara was more like your twin. So when she stayed in your hometown going to Winterfell State, and you traveled to Citadel University, it was like you’d lost a limb.

Which meant you had to visit each other as frequently as possible. Sometimes you’d travel back home and visit Sara, and other times she’d come to you. Sara preferred visiting you, she loved the wine bars and clubs of Oldtown.

“The vibe is just different here,” she says, sipping her wine, “I love it. Very chic.”

You’d chosen a new wine bar to explore this time around. It’s a super cute place, with low lighting and a chalkboard bar and tables, with chalk for drawing laid out on all the tables. Sara, being mentally 12 years old, had already drawn a veiny cock in front of you. You swipe it away with your hand.

“Rudeness!” she says, pouting as you destroy her artwork.

“Stop drawing dicks,” you tell her and she narrows her eyes.

“You’ll have to kill me,” she teases, eyes flickering toward a blonde girl who passes on her way to the bathroom.

“You’re staring,” you tell her and she sticks her tongue out at you.

“She’s been staring at me for a while,” Sara tells you, grinning, “I for one, plan to get laid tonight.”

“I love that for you,” you tell her, smiling.

“This guy at the bar, totally checking you out right now,” Sara says, sipping on her wine.

Your face flushes and you turn your head slightly to look. Sara makes a noise of disapproval, setting her glass down.

“Don’t look,” she whispers, pushing some dark hair over her shoulders.

“I’m not,” you hiss, tilting your head.

“You totally are,” Sara accuses.

“What’s he look like?” you ask.

Sara’s dark eyes scan the man, you watch them move seemingly over his form.

“Tall, platinum blonde, like seriously, must have an extensive hair care routine,” she says, nodding, “We love that, love a man with good hygiene.”

You snicker, living for her analysis.

“He’s lean, but like you can tell he’s muscular,” she glances at you, “I know you’re a hand whore, and I can tell he’s got nice hands.”

“You’re so rude,” you accuse, blushing because she’s right.

Sara scoots off of her seat.

“C’mon, we’re going over there,” she tells you.

“Okay,” you agree and she links your arm pulling you from your seat.

You finally get a look at the guy and your stomach drops.

It’s your professor.

Not this semester, but last semester. Westerosis Literature taught by Professor Aemond Targaryen. A great class, hard as hell. He worked you fucking hard for that A. You mean to tell Sara but you’re still in shock as you come face to face.

“Hey there,” Sara says, smiling sweetly, “I couldn’t help but notice you checking out my friend, thought you’d like to buy her a drink? Maybe keep her company while I visit the loo?”

Aemond’s eyes rake over you, clearly recognizing you. You blush furiously, mouth gaping.

“She likes Sauvignon Blanc,” Sara tells him, motioning to the bartender, “I’ll be back, take care of my girl.”

And with that, she flounces off toward the restroom.

“I’m sorry professor,” you tell him, nervously playing with your fingers, “If I had known it was you I wouldn’t have let her drag me over here.”

“Something tells me your friend would be hard to deny,” he tells you as the bartender comes over, “A glass of Sauvignon Blanc please, and I’ll take another gin and tonic.”

You flush as the bartender nods, getting your drinks.

“She’s very persistent,” you tell him, nodding in agreement and casting your eyes to the floor.

Aemond cannot keep his eyes off your glowing cheeks, the way your lashes flutter against them as you avert your gaze.

“I can just take this back to the table,” you say, grabbing the glass of Sauvignon Blanc he paid for.

Aemond shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t drink alone,” he tells you, patting the empty chair next to him, “Indulge me for a bit, will you?”

You look back towards the table you shared with Sara, though she has yet to return to it. She’s probably chatting up that girl she had her eyes on. You bring your gaze back to Aemond.

“Okay, if you’re sure you’re comfortable with that,” you tell him, slipping onto the stool.

“Because that paper was cruel and unusual punishment, even for you,” you tell Aemond through a laugh.

You’re on your third glass of wine, the hours ticking away as you converse with your former professor. Sara has made herself scarce, though she’s been texting you.

“You did rather well if I recall correctly,” he says, with a sly smile on his face.

You roll your eyes, taking another sip. You’ve always been a good student.

“Only because I dedicated a week of sleepless nights to that assignment. Seriously, you should be paying for my therapy after that,” you tease, leaning your cheek against your hand.

You’ve gotten closer to him during the night, your knees brushing against his thigh, heel clad foot mindlessly rubbing against his calf. You’re not sure if it’s the wine or the ease of the conversation that has you feeling so comfortable around him.

“Send me the bill,” he jokes back, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“I’ll put it in your mailbox tomorrow,” you giggle, taking another sip, “You know, I was really disappointed when your Essosi Literature class was full this semester.”

“Is that so?” he asks, sipping his gin and tonic, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Now I’ll never have the chance to take it,” you continue, “Unless you teach a summer course, otherwise your popularity has thrown off my entire plan of study.”

“My apologies,” he insists, grinning at you, “My popularity, you say? I thought I was a hard ass.”

“Oh you are,” you assure him, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not popular.”

“How so?” he pushes, a long finger dancing around the rim of his empty glass.

Your eyes follow the circle he traces, up the veins on the back of his hands. How have you never noticed how sexy his hands are? You’ve never been this close to him, his lectures always held in one of the large lecture halls on campus rather than the more intimate classroom settings. You wet your lips, desire pooling in your belly before you meet his eyes once more.

“You know,” you tell him, unable to keep the secretive smile off of your face, “I mean, you must know.”

“Know what?” he murmurs, staring at you with such intensity it makes your thighs tremble.

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear, chewing on your lower lip. This will be your last glass of wine, you feel too giddy, too at ease in the presence of your professor. You’re going to regret this little flirtation in the morning, you can feel it in your bones. But the alcohol is liquid courage, and you’re a senior after all. Once this semester is over, you’re out in the real world, done with Citadel University.

“You’re popular with the ladies of campus,” you tell him, “and the men, and everyone else.”

Aemond quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Oh really?” he asks.

“Of course, I mean you’re the youngest tenured professor, you are a hard ass grader but your lectures are so enticing, and it helps you’re easy on the eyes-”

You choke as soon as the sentence escapes you. A freudian slip if you’ve ever had one. Aemond’s mouth quirks up into a wolfish grin.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, covering your mouth.

“It’s alright,” he assures you, but you’re off on a nervous ramble.

“That was seriously so shallow of me and inappropriate to say-”

“Y/N,” he says, resting a hand on your knee, “It’s alright, really.”

You laugh nervously, enjoying the feeling of his hand on your leg. You can feel the heat it emits through your tights. His hand is huge, and you lose yourself in the moment wondering how it might feel against the bare flesh of your thighs, you neck-

“I should see if Sara texted,” you tell him, reaching for your phone.

You’re greeted by a dropped pinned location and a text from Sara saying she went home with the blonde from earlier. Lucky bitch.

“And she’s left me,” you say aloud.

“Everything alright?” Aemond asks.

“Yeah, yeah. This has been great,” you tell him, “Thank you for keeping me company, but I should probably get home, call an Uber.”

“Let me drive you,” Aemond insists, “It’s no problem.”

You bite your lip. You shouldn’t do this right? He’s your professor, your teacher.

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods.

That’s how you end up in the passenger seat of his mercedes, the dark leather seats warm and inviting. You know you’re staring as you watch him drive, long fingers gripping the wheel, the other hand resting on his knee.

As you pull up to your apartment, you swallow the lump that has formed in your throat. You almost want to invite him up. He watches you closely, as though sensing the words swimming around your head. No, you're not doing this.

“Thank you, professor, I appreciate it,” you tell him, leaving it at that.

“I think I embarrassed myself big time Sara,” you tell her groaning on the phone.

There wasn’t much time to debrief the night before Sara had to head back to Winterfell. You brought yourself to the campus coffee shop, settling in to complete some homework while you had some free time.

You’d been staring at your laptop screen, and the empty word doc that was pulled up, for the better part of an hour before deciding to call Sara.

“You did not,” she insists, “I don’t care if he is your professor, he was totally into you.”

“He was just being polite.”

“I know polite, and I know eye fucking. Professor Big Dick was the latter,” Sara insists.

“Sara!”

“You know I’m right,” she tells you.

“Fuck,” you tell her, placing a hand against your forehead.

“Look, if you’re that worried about it, go talk to him,” Sara says, “Drop by his office or something, bring him a coffee and tell him you’re sorry.”

“You don’t think that’s weird?” you ask, nervously chewing your thumb.

“I think it's weird you didn’t suck his dick when he drove you home,” she answers honestly.

“Bye Sara,” you tell her.

“Love you too bitch,” she says, making a kissing noise into the receiver.

You decide to take Sara’s advice, bringing Aemond a coffee as an apology for your behavior. You walk through the building; it’s quiet with no classes, not many people pass you on your way to the faculty offices. Most doors are closed, but you see Professor Targaryen’s door is ajar, signaling his presence.

You’d been to his office one time before, dropping in for office hours the previous semester when working on your midterm. He grilled you hard, and you left feeling frustrated but with a strong desire to please him. You always did crave academic validation.

You knock on the door, greeted by Aemond’s gentle timbre telling you to enter. He’s seated behind his desk, a book open on his lap. He’s wearing gray slacks, a simple button down shirt and his silver hair is pulled away from his face in a loose, low bun. His violet eye lights up as you enter, blue sapphire prosthetic winking in the afternoon light that filters through his window.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” you tell him, closing the door behind you.

You walk further into the room and place the coffee cup on his desk.

“What’s this?” he asks, closing his book and placing it on the desk.

“An apology from a tremendously bright student?” you tell him, smiling nervously.

“What do you need to be apologizing for?” he asks, picking up the coffee, inspecting the order on the side.

You chose black to be safe, not knowing this is how he preferred his coffee. Aemond takes a sip, humming appreciatively.

“I just really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I know I was a little tipsy, and I hope I didn’t cross a line or anything,” you tell him.

Aemond stands, picking up his book and walking over to his bookshelf. It’s stacked with books, classics and other contemporary novels.

“You’re very thoughtful, Ms. Y/L/N,” he comments, sliding the book back where it belongs.

“Thank you, professor,” you tell him.

“If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me,” he tells you, walking in front of his desk.

He leans his back against it, resting his palms on the edge.

“Why would you apologize?” you ask, tilting your head with curiosity.

“Well, if anyone’s responsible for making our interaction inappropriate it's me,” he tells you, jutting out his sharp chin, “I’m your professor, you’re my student.”

You flick an eyebrow up at him.

“You were my professor,” you tell him, “I’m not in your class anymore.”

“Still, that power imbalance doesn’t just go away,” he insists, eyes meeting yours.

There it is again, that look. The one with such intensity it makes your knees weak. You can see his tongue poking his cheek as though he’s contemplating something. Your breath catches in your throat and you nervously wet your lips.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” you tell him, “No more flirting with strangers at wine bars for me.”

“I’m not a stranger,” he says.

“You know what I mean,” you tell him.

The air between you is warm and inviting. It’s like the bar all over again, you can feel some invisible force pulling you closer to him with every word you exchange. It’s so effortless, this playful banter, you fall into it easily with him. You have to stop, have to stop before you cross another line.

“Anyway, take the coffee,” you tell him, “and let me know if you decide to run that summer class, cause I’ll totally take it.”

“You’re graduating,” he teases.

“They’ll let me hang around, I can be very persuasive,” you insist, kicking yourself for the insinuation.

Aemond lets out a breathless laugh.

“I’m sure,” he says smirking.

You stare a moment longer, appreciating how his tall, lean frame looks resting against his desk. Your gaze drops to his hands again. His hands. You blink, steadying yourself, but he’s definitely noticed the mental lag you had.

“Goodbye, Professor,” you tell him, “Have a good rest of your day.”

You turn walking toward the door. You reach for the handle, pulling it open slightly before a hand reaches above your head, pushing it shut. He keeps his hand on the door as you turn around to face him.

“Don’t leave,” he murmurs, bringing his opposite hand to trace a line down the side of your face, before cupping your cheek.

Your breathing turns ragged as his thumb strokes your cheekbone. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips, and smell his cologne. His hand strokes the doorframe, following into down until he reaches the handle, flicking the lock into place.

“I thought we weren’t doing this,” you whisper, hands clenched into fists at your sides.

“Then why’d you come here?” he purrs.

“I was being nice,” you tell him, as he brings his other hand to your waist, pulling you against him.

“Such a good girl you are,” he whispers and then his lips are on yours.

Your hands fly to his neck instinctively, pulling him as close to you as possible. His mouth feels so perfect against yours, the mingled taste of spearmint and coffee sharp on your tongue as you greedily drink him in. Your hands fist the back of his shirt.

You’re practically gasping against his mouth as his hands move to cup your ass, before he bends his knees to lift you up by your thighs. You wrap your legs around his slender waist, continuing to kiss him all the while, moaning as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

He turns, walking you away from the door and placing you on the corner of his desk, hastily brushing his arm to move loose papers and knick knacks out of the way, sending them crashing towards the floor. Not that either of you care. Your hands work quickly, tearing at the buttons on his shirt, revealing his chest. Your nails rake down his abs, reaching for his belt. You’re desperate and you don’t care, you need to feel him inside you.

Aemond removes his lips from yours, laughing breathlessly at your eagerness before swatting your hands away.

“Let me,” he murmurs, sinking to his knees in front of you.

His hands travel up your thighs and you squirm against his touch as they disappear beneath your skirt. You feel his dexterous fingers loop through your underwear pulling it off of you. You assist him, bunching your skirt in your hands revealing your dripping cunt to him.

“So wet for me,” he purrs, “Are you always like this?”

“Fuck,” you mewl as his tongue flicks out, tasting the wetness between your folds.

He hums with appreciation, as though tasting a fine wine. Aemond pressing his face into you, nose nuzzling against your clit, sending spark waves of pleasure dancing upwards toward your navel. His tongue swirls around your center, dipping into your tight heat.

“Did you sit through my lectures with your pussy dripping like this?” he asks, voice rough with desire.

You squirm against his mouth as he wraps his lips around your needy clit, suckling gently and flicking his tongue around the sensitive nub. Your hand flies to the back of his head, foot digging into his shoulder blade.

His hand squeezes your inner thigh roughly, before slapping the tender flesh causing you to cry out.

“Oh gods,” you moan, head tilting back in the throes of pleasure.

“I bet you did,” he answers his own question, smirking at you.

He moves his attention away from your clit momentarily, dragging a finger through your folds. You can’t see his hands but you can picture them, his long, skilled fingers as you feel him sink one into your tight heat.

Your spine curves, pushing your pussy closer toward his face as his finger searches for that special spot inside of you.

“Oh fuck, fuck!” you cry as the pad of his finger pressing against the spot inside of you that paints stars behind your eyelids.

Aemond glances up at you, watches as your brow creases with pleasure, and your mouth forms a perfect O shape.

“There we go,” Aemond purrs, wasting no time and slipping another finger inside of you.

Every crook of his fingers has you trembling against him, his pace relentless as pressing against your g-spot. He brings his attention back to your throbbing clit, increasing the pleasure building in your abdomen, tingling up your spine. His tongue laps away, little kitten licks against the sensitive button drawing you closer and closer to orgasm with each flick.

Tears well in the corners of your eyes and your nails dig harshly into his scalp, not that he seems to mind. Aemond simply groans against you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

“I’m gonna come,” you pathetically whine, shaking against the desk.

“That’s a good girl, c’mon,” Aemond insists, slipping a third finger inside you.

The wet slurping of your soaked cunt echoes in the room as he never relents the stokes of his fingers, the flicking of his tongue. It’s all too much and the tightly wound coil of pleasure inside you snaps with a strangled sob. As your high washes over you, all the tension in your body releases.

Only Aemond doesn’t stop.

“Professor,” you moan, feeling the wave cresting inside of you again.

His fingers are soaked, easily sliding in and out of your greedy cunt.

“Please, please, it’s too much,” you beg, slumping against the desk.

“But you’re such a good girl,” he insists, “You deserve one more, give me one more.”

“I can’t- holy shit!” you squeak, as his lips suck your clit.

You’ve never been treated like this before. One orgasm-if you’re lucky-has been your experience with your past lovers. But you can’t deny him as his fingers work their magic, his tongue swirls around your puffy clit.

“Yes you can,” he purrs, and of course he’s right as you feel yourself thrown over the edge of pleasure once more.

“One more,” Aemond insists and you feel tears leaking down your cheeks.

“Professor I can’t-” you tell him, and he shushes you.

“One more, on my cock, huh?” he asks, unbuckling his belt, “Yeah, you like that idea baby?”

Your eyes light up, and you push yourself on your elbows to watch as he reveals his impressive length. Sara’s always told you guys who are lean are usually well endowed. Boy was she right. Your eyes widen taking in his length, as he grips it in his hand, pumping it. You bite your lip, watching precum leak from the reddened tip.

“I changed my mind,” he says roughly, dragging you toward him like a wolf with its prey, “Two more, you’ll give me two more.”

Your eyes are round as he drags his cock through your folds. You wiggles as he drags the tip over your clit, up and down, using your arousal as lubricant.

“You’ll cum just like this,” he says, continuing the movement against your sensitive clit.

You’re squeaking and moaning embarrassingly, wriggling like a trapped kitten as he holds your thigh tightly with one hand, while the other continues to rub the head of his cock against your clit. Your third orgasm builds quickly and crashes over you just as powerful as the first two, leaving you gasping for air.

“So pretty like this,” Aemond murmurs, bringing a hand to the back of your neck to kiss you.

You whimper against his mouth and his hands move to your shirt, breaking the kiss only to pull the material off of your head. You reach around to unclip your bra, leaving your breasts free and hanging heavy with need. Aemond brings his attention to them immediately, his erection pressing against your thigh as he circlies your nipple with his hot mouth, sucking on your breast.

You’re babbling uncontrollably at this point as he switches, suckling at your neglected other breast before aligning his cock with your soaked entrance.

“You sure?” he asks, hesitating for a moment.

“I’m on birth control,” you manage to gasp, “I’m sure, please, please.”

Aemond grins wolfishly before sinking into your wet heat. His jaw slacks as your pussy greedily accepts him, warm walls holding him firmly inside as he stretches you out.

“So fucking tight,” he murmurs, slowly dragging out only to thrust back in, balls slapping against your ass.

Your head is full of cotton at this point, unable to form coherent thoughts as he plows into you. His hands rest securely on your lower ribs, as your own hands grip the back of your thighs, allowing your legs to bend at the knee. Your back is arched off of the desk, head thrown back and mouth hanging open in pleasure.

“You like that?” he asks.

You can’t find it in you to reply, answering only in a breathy moan. Aemond merely chuckles.

“Awww did I fuck you stupid, baby?” he teases, causing you to whimper.

He feels so fucking good, sliding easily in and out of your tight walls, the sounds of lewd, wet slapping filling his office. It’s filthy, it’s erotic, and it’s so so bad of you but you can’t help but love the position you’ve found yourself in.

“I think I did,” he continues, “Poor, silly, baby thought she could handle it her professor fucking her.”

Desire and humiliation tingle up your spine, spreading across your body like wildfire at his taunts. The pitch of your moans increase as he brings his fingers to play with your clit.

“She’s all cockdumb now,” Aemond croons, squeezing your breast.

He releases your breast to bring a hand to grab at your chin.

“Look at me,” he demands, and you do so with tears in your eyes.

The head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot, rubbing the tender spot with precise devotion.

“You’re going to cum all over my cock,” he tells you, “Soak my cock like the good little girl you are.”

He keeps his hand on your face, forcing you to look at him as he plows into you and your fourth orgasm rolls over you. It’s intense, almost painful with the pleasure it brings you as your walls clamp down against his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans as you tighten around him and he chases his own release.

“I’m going to fill this pretty pussy up,” he tells you, and you feel him spill inside of you, warmth flooding through you.

You stay connected for a moment, relishing the feeling of him inside of you. You’re incredibly sensitive from the overstimulation as he begins to pull out, moaning slightly with the loss of contact.

Aemond grabs some tissues, gently wiping down your inner thighs and beginning to clean you up. He glances up at you as you attempt to find your bearings.

“Holy. Hell.” you tell him, breathing heavily.

Aemond smirks.

“Was that too much?” he asks, a note of concern in his voice.

You shake your head.

“That was amazing,” you tell him, shyly looking away.

You grab your bra, putting it on and reaching for your shirt as he stands. You clip your bra, pulling your shirt over your head as he hands you your discarded panties.

“Thanks,” you tell him, standing on shaky legs.

You nearly fall over putting your panties back on, Aemond’s arms catch you, helping you stand.

You chuckle nervously.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asks, his arms still holding you.

“Yeah,” you assure him, “I should go though.”

“Of course,” he tells you.

You move toward the door but pause, turning to look at him. He’s just finishing buttoning up his shirt.

“Was this…was this a one time thing?” you ask.

Aemond looks up at you.

“It should be,” he tells you.

Your heart flutters in your chest, and a smirk tugs at your lips.

“That’s not an answer,” you tell him.

He smirks at you.

“No, it isn’t,” he agrees.

You hold his gaze a moment more.

“I’ll see you around, professor,” you tell him, unlocking the door and leaving his office.

You walk quickly, heat pounding, desperate to get back to your apartment and call Sara. You hop on the campus bus, holding tightly to the railing, trying to ignore the dull ache between your legs, and the warmth of Aemond’s cum that is still trickling down your thighs.

Boy are you fucked.

note: I hope you liked it my loves! Again, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!! For all your support and love. I'm truly so lucky to have such amazing support on this site and a place to post my silly little stories. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! until next time besties 😘

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@coldcomputerkoala, @louislouve, @alicetargaryen @fidelias, @earthangels-things, @shinypoetryface, @klara-lily, @ensnaredinwonderland, @bubblyabs, @green-lxght, @cheerbaitromanjosi, @billiesbeans, @hufflepuff1700, @asumofwords, @angelheavensblog, @natashaobo, @zavriocibrouku, @tssf-imagines, @delilah92590, @shit-posts420, @evattude, @heyykarolina, @brie-annwyl, @wondergal2001, @herondale-girl7, @teteminne, @euphoriahoesss, @mercedesdecorazon, @koreofkore, @boofy1998, @targbarbie, @beiigegalx, @borikenlove, @fan-goddess, @schniiipsel, @elissanatok, @achlysyen,

AEMOND TAGLIST: @warmfieldofgrass

BOLD MEANS I COULD NOT TAG

drop a comment or DM me for Taglist info!

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youraverageaemondsimp · 6 months

Text

“Good girl.” // Professor!Aemond Targaryen x Student!Reader

MDNI, DD:DNE : reader discretion is advised.

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to prevent seeing dark content from me.

based on this request.

WARNINGS: forbidden relationship, dubcon due to power imbalance, blackmail, virginity loss, rough sex(?), spanking, cunnilingus, fingering, tiddy sucking, both of them are adults, dark!aemond, professor x student relationship. + not proofread.

WC: 1.7k

“Why do you seem to be failing only in my class?” his voice booms, bouncing off the walls in the comfort of his office, you flinch at his harsh tone, your history professor, Aemond Targaryen seemed to be disappointed.

“Its- it's too difficult to remember.” you mumble, and he raises an eyebrow, “Why'd you take up this course then? You're wasting your time, though you may be good in all others, this subject is your main one and yet here you are, scoring extremely low, barely managing to pass.” he says harshly, eye roaming your figure up and down.

“S-sorry professor, I swear I'll get good grades next ti—”

“And how many times will you repeat the same line? You said that the previous test, and it's previous, and before that too, you are failing miserably Miss Y/N.” he rolls his eyes in annoyance, and you remain silent, eyes downwards in shame.

Aemond takes in your defeated form, the way you looked so submissive, quivering in fear under his gaze, he liked the power he held over you, and his eye darted towards your thighs, the way your knee high socks dug softly into the flesh, and your plaid skirt, he wondered what colour panties you were wearing, weather is his favourite colour or not.

“If you fail again, you'll have to repeat this year.” he says and you lift your eyes in panic, not wanting to do that and you speak up “What can i do?”

“Anything, get a tutor, study harder, ask your friends for help, or…” he trails off, tongue poking the inside of his cheek and you look at him confused, “Or… ?” you ask, “The other method is unethical, but would be quite an easy way for you to pass.” he says calmly, voice void of any disappointment he held earlier, filled with far more sinister.

“Please, I'll do anything.”

There it is.

“Anything?” he asks and you nod eagerly, fidgeting with your hands, he hums.

“Lift your skirt up.” he commands and you look at him shocked, “What-? Sir-” you try to protest but he throws a stern look in your direction, “Do you want me to fail you?” he asks and you shake your head, and try to hold back the tears of humiliation as you reluctantly lift your skirt up, revealing your panties to him.

“My favourite colour indeed.” he comments and you feel ashamed as you feel his gaze burning holes, he motions you come close to him and you do, you stand in front of him while he is sat on his chair, your skirt still held up, he hooks a finger through your panty band and pulls it down, mouth salivating at the sight. He licks his lips.

He forces you to sit on the table in front of him, spreading your legs apart as he slides the chair backward just enough to bend down and reach your cunt, he sniffs, taking in the scent which makes you shiver in disgust as you watch him with tear filled eyes, his mouth then latches on your bud, suckling and flicking it up and down and you throw your head back and moan, thighs clenching around his head, squeezing him tightly until he pulls them apart, hand wrapped around each thigh, holding you in place and he devours your cunt like a mad man.

“S-slow down please!” you beg when you feel his teeth nipping at your clit, slightly causing you pain, your hips move on their own accord grinding against his face and he grunts in satisfaction, “Fuck you taste heavenly, just like I had imagined.” he mutters into your cunt and you stare at him in disbelief, like he always imagined? “What? You were so fucking cute in your short skirts, prancing around the college campus looking like a 5 star meal, I don't think you know but almost every student has a crush on you.” he places kisses on your inner thighs, “Yet unlucky for them cause the one who has your legs spread out, is me.” he pulls your top up, revealing your bra, same color as the panties, “Oh my, matching are we? Maybe I'm wrong, maybe you knew that every guy wanted to fuck you, that's why you're prepared like a slut huh?” he stands up tall, hovering over your laid out form and leans down to your breast in his mouth.

You want to protest, tell him you're just doing for yourself, to feel pretty but you knew he wouldn't believe that. And maybe there was some truth to it, yet it was only for one person, for him.

A dirty secret of yours.

You had a crush on Aemond Targaryen.

Your professor.

Yet what you hadn't expected was to land yourself in this situation. How many nights did you imagine him fucking you? Giving your first time to him because you liked him, your professor.

But it wasn't all fairytales and sparkles like you had expected, you're letting him do this to you in hopes of passing his class, not because you wanted to actually fuck him at this moment. It was humiliating, and the realisation he was the blackmail type felt like ice cold water poured on you.

He bites your nipple causing you to snap out of thoughts. You watch as he lewdly suckles on your breast, his saliva coating it, you rub your thighs together at the sight, for an odd reason it is arousing, he chuckles knowing how you feel and you look away, embarrassed.

His hand travels to your cunt, rubbing small circles on your clit making you gasp, his finger travels and prods at your entrance and you let out a whine when he pushes it inside, curling it upwards causing you to squirm under him, his mouth leaves your breast before he takes your other one, giving it the same attention as he did to your previous one, simultaneously moving his hand in and out of your cunt, causing lewd wet noises to fill up the room.

The sounds of his mouth on your breast, his finger going in and out of your dripping cunt, your gasps and his satisfied grunts at the noises you let out bouncing off the walls and back to your own ears.

You reach your peak you a loud moan, gripping the table so tight, and he groans, hearing that lewd sound, “Fuck, need to be be inside you.” he mutters before withdrawing his hand and pulling himself up, you're caught offguard when he flips you over, making your breast push up against the table while giving full view of your ass to him. He pulls down your panties completely, giving your ass a spank.

“You're gonna do better in my class from today onwards aren't you?” he asks and you're confused, and before you could answer, he slaps your ass one more time, “Answer me.” he growls into your ear and you let out a breath, “Yes Mr Targ!” you yelp when you feel him smack your ass once again, “Call me Aemond.” he says and you obey, “Yes! Aemond.” you yelp “Good girl.” he presses a kiss to your ear, before undoing his pants, pulling his cock out.

He watches as the juices drip down from your cunt, and he lines his cock against your entrance, and pushes in slightly, and you muffle your whimpers of pain with your hand, he is way too big, and it seems like he's barely halfway through.

Aemond lost his patience the moment he felt you clench around him, he shoved inside completely without a care and you bite your lip so hard to prevent a scream from escaping. “Fuck you're so tight, like a virgin.” he breathlessly says and you whimper and that's when he realises, “Gods, don't tell me you are one.” he says in disbelief and your silence answers his question, making him groan, as he draws his hips backwards slowly, before thrusting in again. “Fuck- I'd have to be gentle but fuck, your cunt is making me insane.” he gasps, trying to restrain himself from fucking you like an animal in heat but the moment you let out a moan, he loses all his logical thinking and brutally snaps his hips backward and forward, thrusting into you with a fevrent pace.

It hurts at first, but then the pain subsides slowly as his cock hits that spongy part inside of you repeatedly, causing sparks of pleasure to shoot up your spine. He grabs both your hands and pins them to your back side, holding them together tightly with only just one hand while the other gives your ass a smack.

“You're such a good girl, taking what I'm doing to you without protest.” he grunts.

He let's go of your hands, and pulls you up by your hair, causing you to stand up with your back arched, head resting on his shoulder, before that very same hand grabs your throat, holding you in place and he ruts up into you, his other hand travelling down to your front, grabbing and squeezing your breasts before it travels down to your cunt, rubbing fast paced circles unto your clit.

The band in your stomach begins to tighten as he continues his actions, before it finally snaps, causing you to come undone with a loud moan of his name. His thrusts become sloppy and soon he's reaching his peak too.

He pulls out and flips you around, and lays you on the table on your back before pumping his cock with his hand and soon his cum spurts out, some falling atop your stomach and some on your cunt, dripping down to your hole.

“Seven hells, you look so beautiful like this.” he moans and you lay there, taking deep breaths. The next thing you know is that he's cleaning you up with tissues, wiping off his cum from your body and cleaning himself too.

You get up on wobbly legs, and pull yourself together, fixing your hair as you try to calm your nerves from what just happened.

“You're receiving an A+ for this, but if you want to keep passing, you either study or you can always resort to this.” he tells you as if it's the most casual thing in the world.

“Though, don't let anyone find out, it will only cause trouble for you, because I can easily find a way out of this mess.” he warns you and you nod, he grabs you by your cheeks and pulls you close, placing a kiss to lips.

“Good girl.” he mutters.

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flowerandblood · 5 months

Text

The Taste of Shame

[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex working, sexual tension ]

[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients - however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. It turns out that what he wants and what he doesn't no longer matter when he meets his friend's younger sister for the first time. Slow burn, sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Until he met Criston and Robert at university he was a total loner, really only going to classes and shopping. Ever since he moved out of his family home, he didn't feel the need to interact with anyone except his mother and his youngest brother.

Nonetheless, once their quantum physics professor selected them as a group to tackle a joint project in his class, it turned out that they got along very well.

He was quiet and withdrawn, best at solving equations and finding the correct formulae; Robert threw interesting, chaotic insights and ideas from his sleeve, and Criston pulled it all together to form a whole.

They scored the highest possible grade and from then on they naturally stuck together; Robert and Criston didn't seem to mind that he usually didn't contribute to their discussions, simply allowing him to be in their company with a cardboard cup of coffee from the vending machine.

They often asked him where he got his money from, since, according to him, his parents did not help him financially to live in a completely different city. He usually answered evasively, feeling a squeeze in his throat in those moments, a fear that one day they would somehow find out how he made his living.

What he was doing.

That women paid him to tie them up, to beat them, to slap them, to degrade and humiliate them, to fuck them in ways he wouldn't even be able to explain, taking unspeakable satisfaction from it.

He was a professional; he signed contracts that included each party's boundary and safety words. He expected his clients to have medical examinations to make sure they didn't carry any diseases, but he used condoms anyway.

He rented a bedsit intended as a meeting place, with no intention of hosting anyone in his flat; his main rule was not to get emotionally involved, apart from having sex and entitling himself that his client was comfortable, he did not get into any conversations with them even though they tried to do so.

It started with one woman, Alys, who he met when he graduated from high school; it turned her on when he tied her up, when he fucked her while telling her she was a nobody, when he punished her and it shocked him what a tremendous sense of power it gave him.

She told him admiringly that he could be a professional dom and earn a lot from it, which gave him pause for thought. To her despair, he ended their relationship shortly after he started doing it for money, recognising that he didn't want to break his rule about not having a relationship, where she already knew far too much about him.

He was more careful with others.

They called him sir and knew nothing about him except what they read on the website.

He admired in a way how desperate some of them were, how much they were balancing on the edge of overdoing it; in a few cases he had to check their pulse to make sure he hadn't killed them.

His clients were not poor women and sometimes, for extra things or to show him their admiration, they paid him more than what they had agreed for; however, he never accepted excess money, knowing that if he broke the rules they would think they could expect more from him, which he was unwilling to allow.

So, for obvious reasons, he kept his profession to himself, fearing that if his friends found out about it they would think he was just fucked up. He genuinely liked them, as well as the field of study he was attending, and didn't want to change anything in his life.

When Robert invited him and Criston to his house for his birthday he agreed immediately, seeing no obstacles to celebrating with him; he knew that apart from him and Criston there would be a few more friends from his neighbourhood and he was fine with that.

When he got his car into his driveway he decided to have a smoke before going inside, tired after a long, intense session with his female client, wanting to clear his mind.

That's when he heard her for the first time.

"Are you Robert's friend?!"

He looked over his shoulder and saw her − she had jumped off the blue slim bike with the white basket in the front. Her hair was loose and in a slight disarray due to the wind, her face pink from exertion, her full lips parted slightly in a quickened breath, her large eyes shining with curiosity.

He felt everything he saw in his cock, looking at her pale, with his eyes imagining her moaning beneath him with that pleading, sweet voice to keep fucking her.

"− yeah −" He hummed in a slightly trembling voice, taking a deep drag on his cigarette, trying to hide what was happening to him, in what direction to his horror his thoughts had fled.

"That's wonderful! I'm Robert's sister. I forgot to buy candles for his cake, which was rather unfortunate considering it's his birthday and I had to go quickly to get them." She said breathing heavily as she walked with her bicycles deeper into the driveway, looking at him expectantly over her shoulder. "Do you have a lighter?"

He couldn't play the idiot and pretend he didn't have one, so, as she requested, they went around her house and walked inside from the terrace, walking quietly to the kitchen − he could hear the voices of Robert, Criston and the other guests in the distance.

She opened the fridge, which illuminated her pleasant, smiling face with a bright, bluish light, and slowly pulled out a meringue cake with a cucumber glaze decorated with berries.

"It looked better in the picture on the internet, but I was making it for the first time. Can you help me?" She asked lightly, pulling candles from the pocket of her dress.

He just nodded, feeling his mind working in slow motion, his heart pounding like mad, his mind focused on her body and on her scent, some sweet, girly fruity perfume.

He thought, swallowing loudly, that she was like a ripe peach or strawberry, begging to be bitten into, to taste its flesh.

He pressed his lips together, sticking the last candle into the crisp texture of the meringue, thinking with despair that he was a disgusting man, that she was his friend's younger sister.

And above all, she was not his client.

He handed her a lighter; their faces lit up by the warm glow of the fire as she began to light the candles one by one. She smiled at him when she finished in a way that made him feel like saying he didn't give a shit about the candles, the cake and Robert's birthday − just to pull her panties off her legs and fuck her on the countertop.

"Let's go." She said warmly and he nodded, letting out the air from his lungs, watching her with a look that, had it not been for the darkness in the room, would surely have terrified her.

They walked into the living room; his sister began to sing a Happy Birthday loudly and the other guests joined her in chorus, Robert stood up embarrassed but clearly pleased. After a round of applause, he walked over to them and blew out the candles, saying happily that his little sister remembered how he loved the meringues and hugged her.

He lowered his gaze at the thought that they were close.

That he needed to pull himself together.

When Robert offered him a drink he immediately agreed, distraught and terrified at the thought of spending the whole evening in her company; she walked around the room with a smile, talking to everyone lightly as if she had known them for years.

At the same time, he craved and feared that she would eventually sit down next to him, noticing his distancing and tiredness and walked out into the garden, sitting down on a bench, lighting a cigarette.

He closed his eyes as he heard someone's footsteps and for some reason he knew, subconsciously felt, that it was her.

He smelled her scent as she sat down next to him with a quiet creak of old wood and slowly opened his eyelids, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She was holding her drink, probably vodka with orange juice and mango, for some reason it seemed obvious to him that she only liked alcohol if it was sweet.

"Beautiful evening." She said warmly, softly, her gaze slightly dreamy, gazing up at the cloudless, starry sky, her body as if spilling over the backrest of the bench, her head lying comfortably on it, framed by her shiny hair.

He thought with embarrassment that he couldn't cause her pain even if she begged him to.

Though maybe he could slap her buttock a time or two before sinking his face between her thighs, leaving the red mark of his hand on her skin.

He swallowed loudly, taking another drag on his cigarette, looking ahead, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, the arousal he knew so well, his manhood twitched in his trousers.

He didn't answer.

After a moment, however, Criston came out to them, chatting them up, making him feel relieved, feeling like he was going to go mad because of her presence.

He left the party faster than he wanted to; Robert tried to stop him by saying that he could spend the night at his house, but he refused, terrified by this vision, knowing that he wouldn't last, that he would go to her room.

That one word from her would be enough to make him fuck her and regret it for the rest of his life.

He would leave her with nothing afterwards.

She seemed like a good, nice girl, deserving of a decent man who wouldn't think about tying her up.

As he drove home in his car he breathed out loud, somehow proud of himself, knowing that he had done the right thing, that maybe he wasn't as bad a person as he thought he was.

He fought with himself not to look for her on social media, and although he himself had accounts under pseudonyms with black squares in place of profile pictures, knowing that she was Robert's sister, finding her was too easy for him to resist.

So, in despair, he spent the evening giving up, recognising that if someone publishes something on the internet it means they agree to let others look at it. He swallowed loudly, surprised to see a new notification on Facebook and it was nothing other than an invitation from her.

He felt the cold sweat on his back and the quick, hard pounding of his heart, as if he was about to defuse a ticking bomb.

Accept?

Reject?

Do nothing?

He stared at his screen with his lips clenched and involuntarily clicked accept.

Fuck.

He ran his hand over his face, knowing it wasn't the best idea, but that if he removed her quickly from his friends now she'd still get a notification that he'd accepted her before and it would be weird to say the least.

He figured that she had surely only added him because he was a friend of her brother's and she had no intention of doing anything more with it.

He almost choked on his tea when he saw that she had sent him a message.

He stared at the chat bubble and clenched his eyes, clicking on it, unfolding the conversation, recognising that he wouldn't fall asleep if he didn't see what she had written to him.

He looked at her message with a fast-beating heart, reading it several times, swallowing quietly with a sense of some kind of relief that it had no subtext. It made him feel warm at the thought that, in essence, what she had written was kind and affectionate, expressing only her innocent concern and gratitude.

He figured he could write her back without any remorse that he was doing something wrong, for some reason feeling excited about talking to her.

He wrote back and sighed heavily, recognising that his reply was terribly dry and distant, but then thought that perhaps it was better. He twisted restlessly in his seat looking expectantly at his screen when he saw that after a moment she had displayed his message.

He involuntarily smiled reading it and thought she was sweet.

Over the next few days, he involuntarily returned to that brief exchange of words, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to somehow strike up a conversation with her again, although he didn't know how to do so.

"What are you thinking about, buddy?" Robert asked him with amusement, slapping him on the back with a friendly, masculine hand gesture; he swallowed loudly, pulled out of his reverie, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Nothing."

One of his clients had expressed a desire to meet again after their last session, wanting a more intense experience this time. Looking at her message, he ran his hand over his face, for some reason feeling doubts surging into his mind, though he didn't know what they stemmed from.

What would she think of him if she found out?

During the meeting with his client he had given her everything she wanted, but there had been no intimacy with penetration between them and he had satisfied her only with his hand.

He felt for some reason distanced from what he was doing, as if his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

He imagined that if it had been her lying in front of him he would have done it differently, that he would have brought her to the edge of despair, but he would have had more understanding and patience, he would have been tender to her.

Why?

When it was all over and the woman had left he cleaned everything, threw the old bedding in the washing machine and put on the fresh one, so that it would be ready when he returned there.

He left and locked the flat, then ran down the staircase and headed for the car park across the street.

"Aemond!" He heard a happy, girlish, warm voice, her voice; he turned over his shoulder, terrified, for some unexplained reason certain that she had caught him in the act, even though they were standing in the middle of the street.

She jumped off her bike halfway down the road, grabbed the handlebars and ran over to him, a shopping bag in her basket, a cute fabric clasp backpack on her shoulders.

She was dressed in dark, long high-waisted trousers, pleasantly emphasising her waist and a short-sleeved T-shirt, her hair tied up in a braid that was partly blown by the wind.

She stood in front of him smiling broadly, in the light of the sun her face seemed even more gentle and soft to him, although she appeared to him to be nothing more than a figment of his imagination, so he merely stood and looked at her with his mouth slightly parted.

"Where are you going?" She asked lightly, her eyes shining with an innocent, childlike curiosity from which he felt a tightening in his throat; he thought she literally beamed with a kind of warmth from which his whole body shuddered.

He licked his lower lip quickly, swallowing loudly as he tried to get any meaningful sentence out.

"I'm just getting home." He said in a low, cool, distant voice, having no idea why he sounded that way − he had the feeling that his whole body was somehow trying to prevent what was just happening to him. She blinked, cocking her head as if she was expecting the rest of his statement, though he wasn't planning one.

"I…I had my business to take care of. And you?" He changed the subject quickly wanting to distract her from himself − she smiled even wider, shifting from foot to foot.

He noticed the outline of her breasts under her T-shirt proving she had no bra underneath and looked away, horrified and aroused by this discovery.

Fuck.

If she was his, he'd show her what he thought of it.

He squeezed his eyes shut wondering what he was even thinking about when the last thing he was looking for was a relationship.

"I'm just going to a lecture by my favourite professor in the history of philosophy. Want to join me? Entry is free!" She said clearly excited by her own idea and proposal, and he swallowed loudly, looking at her in disbelief, analysing quickly what she had said, whether he should do it.

He had no commitments, his whole evening was free.

He hummed under his breath, putting his hands in the pockets of his black trousers.

"How far is it from here?" He asked hesitantly, and she waved her hand.

"The lecture will be held at the Community Centre, two streets away. Five minutes' walk."

He looked at her, at her pretty, overjoyed face, and gave in.

"Why not."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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dragons-and-handcuffs · 3 months

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Imagine college student Aemond with a dangerous reputation with the most loving, caring, and understanding girlfriend!reader.

Imagine you staying in the library very late to study and Aemond just sitting there with his feet on the table, with a random book to keep you company and to take you home after you are done.

Imagine Aemond making you skip classes and take you for a ride on his bike.

He is not big on romantic gestures, both giving and receiving. So you just do subtle things for him, like making his favorite dessert. He will just smile as he finishes it all, because he knows you made it just for him. Him randomly seeing something you like and immediately getting it for you, whether it's your favorite flower or a book or a jewelry. He doesn't want to make a big deal about it so he will just leave it on the bed or in your beg and you will know it's for him.

Aemond trusting you with his past and all his secrets. You always understanding him and his side. You trusting Aemond with all your heart as well. Feel like both will have keys to each other's house and knows each other's phone password but never checks it

If Aemond doesn't see you all day due to some reason then he will for sure visit you at night. If you are sleeping then he will just get on the bed and sleep next to you. You will definitely wake up with his arms around you the next morning

Imagine Aemond sometimes join your class even though he didn't sign up for it. He will just sit in the back, away from you but you just know his attention is on you

Aemond is not the type of guy who gets jealous. But he is protective of you. He will even get in a fight with a professor if they are rude to you

#aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #game of thrones imagines #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon imagine

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 7 days

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1968 [Chapter 5: Artemis, Goddess Of The Hunt]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 6.6k

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💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

“So you smoked grass in college,” Aegon says, pondering you with glazed eyes as he slurps his cherry-flavored Mr. Misty. You’re in Biloxi, Mississippi where Aemond is making speeches and meeting with locals to commemorate the first summer of the beaches being desegregated after a decade of peaceful protests and violent white supremacist backlash. Route 90 runs right along the sand dunes. If you walked out of this Dairy Queen, you could look south and see the Gulf of Mexico, placid dark ripples gleaming with moonshine. “And swore, and had a boyfriend, and presumably, what, did shots? Skipped class on occasion?”

“Yeah,” you admit, smiling sheepishly, remembering. You stretch out your fingers. “I chewed gum, I talked during mass. And I loved black nail polish. The nuns would beat my knuckles with rulers, I always had bruises. I wore these flowing skirts down to my ankles and knee-high boots. My hair was a mess, long and blowing around everywhere. My friends and I would do each other’s makeup, silver glitter and purple shadow, pencil on a ridiculous amount of eyeliner and then smudge it out. If you saw a photo you wouldn’t recognize me.”

Aegon takes a drag on his Lucky Strike cigarette, weightless smoke and the tired yellowish haze of florescent lights. Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth is playing from the Zenith radio on the counter by the cash register. “I’d recognize you.”

“I used to skip this one class all the time. The professor was a demon. I could do the math, but not the way he wanted me to. Right solution, wrong steps, I don’t know. I learned it differently in high school, and I couldn’t figure out the formula he wanted me to use. So he’d mark everything a zero even if my answer was correct. I couldn’t stand that bastard. Then the nuns kept catching me sunbathing on the quad when I was supposed to be in Matrices and Vector Spaces. I racked up so many demerits they were going to revoke my weekend pass, and then I wouldn’t be able to go into the city with my friends. So I stole the demerit book and burned it up on the stove in my dorm. Almost set the whole building on fire.”

Aegon is laughing. “You did not. Not you, not perfect ever-obedient Miss America!”

“I did. I really did.” You sip your own Mr. Misty, lemon-lime. Across the restaurant, Criston and Fosco are eating banana splits—dripping chocolate syrup and melted ice cream all over their table—and passionately debating who is going to end up in the World Series; Criston favors the Cardinals and the Orioles, Fosco says the Red Sox and the Cubs. The rest of the Targaryen family is back at the hotel watching news coverage of the Republican National Convention, something you can only stomach so much of, Otto’s cynical commentary, Aemond’s remaining eye fixed fiercely on the screen as he nips at an Old Fashioned. “I was wild back then.”

“And you gave it all up to be Aemond’s first lady.”

You think back to where it started: palm trees, salt water, alligators in drainage ditches. “My father grew up in a shack outside of Tallahassee. No electricity, no running water, he dropped out of school in eighth grade to help take care of his siblings when his mom died. They moved south to live with their aunt in Tampa, and my father wound up in Tarpon Springs working as a sea sponge diver.”

Aegon’s eyebrows rise, like he thinks you’re teasing him. “Sea sponges…?”

“I’m serious! It paid better than picking oranges or sweeping up in a factory. It’s dangerous. You have to wear this heavy rubber suit and walk around on the ocean floor, sometimes 50 feet or more below the surface.”

“What do people do with sea sponges?”

“Oh right, you would be unfamiliar. You’re supposed to clean yourself with them, like a loofah. Soap? Water? Ringing any bells?”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “You’re a very mean person. Aren’t you supposed to be setting an example for the merciful wives and daughters of this great nation?”

“Painters and potters buy sponges too. And some women use them as contraceptives. You can soak them in lemon juice and then shove them up there and it kills sperm.”

“I suddenly have great appreciation for the sea sponge industry. God bless the sea sponges.”

“So my father spent a few years diving, and he fell in love with a girl who worked at one of the shops he sold sponges to. That was my mother. They got married when he had absolutely nothing, and by their fifth anniversary he had his own fleet of boats, a gift shop, and a processing and shipping facility, all of which they owned jointly. They just opened the Spongeorama Sponge Factory this past April, a cute little tourist trap. But my point is that they were partners from the start. My father listens to my mother, and she works alongside him, and it was never like what I’ve seen from my friends’ parents: dad at the office 80 hours a week, mom at home strung out on Valium, just these…deeply separate, cold planets locked in orbit but never touching each other. I knew I didn’t want that. I wanted a husband who was building something I could be a part of. I wanted a man who respected me.”

Aegon watches you as he lights a fresh cigarette, not saying what you imagine he wants to: And how is that working out? He puffs on his Lucky Strike a few times and then offers it to you. You aren’t supposed to smoke, not even tobacco—it’s not ladylike, it’s masculine, it’s subversive—but you take it and hold it between your index and middle fingers, inhaling an ashy bitterness that blood learns to crave. The bracelets on your wrist jangle, thin silver chains that match the diamonds in your ears. Your dress is mint green, your hair in your signature Brigitte Bardot-inspired updo. Aegon is wearing a black t-shirt with The Who stamped across the front. When you pass the cigarette back to him, Aegon asks: “What music did you listen to? The Stones, The Animals?”

“Yeah. And Hendrix, The Kinks, Aretha Franklin…”

“Phil Ochs?”

“I love him. He’s got a song about Mississippi, you know.”

“Oh, I’m aware. It’s one of my favorites.”

“And I’m currently getting a little obsessed with Loretta Lynn. She’s so angry!”

“She’s sanctimonious, that’s what she is. Always bitching about men.”

“Six kids and an alcoholic husband will do that to someone.”

Aegon winces, and then you realize what you’ve said. Loretta Lynn sounds a lot like Mimi. He finishes his Mr. Misty and then fidgets restlessly with his white cardboard cup, spinning it around by the straw. You feel bad, though you shouldn’t. You wouldn’t have a month ago.

“Aegon,” you say gently, and he reluctantly looks up at you, sunburned cheeks, blonde hair shagging over his eyes. “Why do you ignore your children? They’re interesting, they’re fun. Violeta invited me to help her make cakes with her Easy-Bake Oven last week. And Cosmo…he’s so clever. But it’s like he doesn’t know who you are. He might actually think Fosco’s his dad.”

Aegon takes one last drag off his cigarette and discards the end of it in his Mr. Misty cup. Now he’s fiddling with it again, avoiding your gaze. “I don’t have much to offer them.”

“I think you do.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do,” you insist. “You can be kind of nice sometimes.”

He frowns, staring out the window. You know he can’t see anything but darkness and streetlights. “I should have been the one to go to Vietnam. If somebody had to get shot at so Aemond could be president, I was the right choice. No one would miss me. No one would mourn me. Daeron didn’t deserve that. But I was too old, so Otto and my father got him to enlist. Now he’s in the jungle and my mother has nightmares about Western Union telegrams. If I was the son over there, I think she’d sleep easier.”

I’m glad you’re still here, you think. Instead you say: “Your children need you.”

“No they don’t. Between me and Mimi, they’re better off as orphans. Helaena and Fosco can be their parents. Maybe they’ll have a fighting chance.”

The glass door opens, and a man walks into the Dairy Queen with his two sons scampering behind him, all with sandy flip flops and carrying fishing rods. The dad is at least six feet tall and brawny, and wearing a Wallace For President baseball cap. You and Aegon both notice it, then share an amused, disparaging glance. You mouth: Imbecile bigot. The man continues to the cash register and orders two chocolate shakes and a root beer float. At their own table, Criston is mopping up melted ice cream with napkins and telling Fosco to stop being such a pig.

“Me?!” Fosco says. “You are the pig, that spot there is your ice cream, do not blame your failings on poor Fosco. I have already let you drag me to this terrible state and never once complained about the fried food or the mosquitos. And that thing out there is not a real beach. The water is still and brown, brown!”

“For once in your life, pretend you have a work ethic and help me clean up the table.”

“You are being very anti-immigrant right now, do you know that?”

Aegon begins singing, ostensibly to himself. “Here’s to the state of Mississippi, for underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines.”

“Aegon, no,” you whisper, petrified. You know this song. You know where he’s going.

He’s beaming as he continues: “If you drag her muddy rivers, nameless bodies you will find.”

Now the man in the Wallace hat is looking at Aegon. His sons are happily gulping down their chocolate shakes. Criston and Fosco, still bickering, haven’t noticed yet.

“Oh, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes.”

“Aegon, don’t,” you plead quietly. “He’ll murder you.”

“The calendar is lyin’ when it reads the present time.”

“Hey,” calls the man in the Wallace For President hat. “You got a problem, boy?”

Aegon drums his palms on the tabletop as he sings, loudly now: “Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of, Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of!”

In seconds, the man has crossed the room, grabbed Aegon by the collar of his t-shirt, yanked him out of his chair and struck him across the face: closed fist, lethal intent, the sick wet sound of bones on flesh. Aegon’s nose gushes, his lip splits open, but he isn’t flinching away, he isn’t afraid. He’s yowling like a rabid animal and clawing, kicking, swinging at the giant who’s ensnared him. You are screaming as you leap to your feet, your chair falling over and clattering on the floor behind you. The man’s sons are hooting joyously. “Git him, Paw!” one of them shouts.

“Criston?!” you shriek, but he and Fosco are already here, tugging at the man’s massive arms and beating on his back, trying to untangle him from Aegon.

“Stop!” Criston roars. “You don’t want to hurt him! He’s a Targaryen!”

“A Targaryen, huh?” the man says as he steps away, wiping the blood from his knuckles on his tattered white t-shirt, stained with fish guts. “All the better. I wish that bullet they put in Aemond woulda been just another inch to the left. Directly through the aorta.”

Aegon lunges at the man again, hissing, fists swinging. Fosco yanks him back.

“Are you gonna call someone or not?!” Criston snaps at the girl behind the cash register, but she only gives him a steely glare in return. This is Wallace country. There’s a reason why it took four years after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to finally desegregate the beaches.

“We should go,” you tell Criston softly.

“Yes, we will leave now,” Fosco says, hauling Aegon towards the front door. Then, to the cashier: “Thank you for the ice cream, but it was not very good. If you are ever in Italy, try the gelato. You will learn so much.”

“I can’t wait ‘til November,” the man gloats, ominous, threatening. His sons are standing tall and proud beside him. “When Aemond loses, you can all cart your asses back to Europe. We don’t want you here. America ain’t for people like you.”

“It literally is,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “It’s on the Statue of Liberty.”

“Yeah, where do you think your ancestors came from?!” Aegon yells at the man. “Are you a Seminole, pal? I didn’t think so—!” Fosco and Criston lug him through the doorway before more punches can be thrown.

Outside—under stars and streetlights and a full moon—Aegon burst out laughing. This is when he feels alive; this is when the blood in his veins turns to wave and riptides. You didn’t think to grab napkins from the table, so you wipe the blood off his face with your bare hand, assessing the damage. He’ll be fine; swollen and sore, but fine.

“You’re insane, you know that?” you say. “You could have been killed.”

Aegon pats your cheek twice and grins, blood on his teeth. “The world would keep spinning, little Io.” Then he starts walking back towards the White House Hotel.

~~~~~~~~~~

When the four of you arrive at your suite, Aemond, Otto, Ludwika, and Alicent are still gathered around the television. The nannies have taken the children to bed. Helaena is reading The Bell Jar in an armchair in the corner of the room. Mimi is passed out on the couch, several empty glasses on the coffee table. ABC is showing a clip they recorded earlier today of Ludwika travelling with Aemond’s retinue after he made an impassioned speech condemning the lack of recognition of the evils of slavery at Beauvoir, the historic home of former Confederate president Jefferson Davis. The reporter is asking Ludwika what she thinks makes Aemond a better presidential candidate than Eugene McCarthy, as McCarthy shares many of the same policy positions and has an additional 15 years of political experience.

“This McCarthy is not a real man,” Ludwika responds, her face stony and mistrustful. “He reminds me of the communists back in my country. Did you know he met with Che Guevara in New York City a few years ago? Why would he do such a thing?”

Now, Otto turns to her in this hotel room. “I love you.”

Ludwika takes a sip of her martini. “I want another Gucci bag.”

“Yes, yes. Tomorrow, my dear.”

“What happened to you?” Aemond asks his brother, half-exasperated and half-concerned. Criston has fetched a washcloth from the bathroom for Aegon to hold against his bleeding lip and nose. Aemond is still wearing his blue suit from a long day of campaigning, but he’s taken out his eye and put on his eyepatch. His gaze flicks from Aegon’s face to the blood still coating your left hand. On the couch, Mimi’s bare foot twitches but she doesn’t wake up.

“There was a Wallace supporter at the Dairy Queen,” you say. “Aegon felt inspired to defending you.”

Aemond chuckles. “Did you win?” he asks Aegon.

“I would have if the guy wasn’t two of me.”

On the television screen, Richard Nixon is accepting his party’s nomination for president at the Republican National Convention in Miami, Florida.

“He’s a buffoon,” Otto sneers. “So awkward and undignified. Look at him sweating! Look at those ridiculous jowls! And he comes from nothing. His family is trash.”

“Americans love a rags to riches story,” you say. And then, somewhat randomly: “He loves his wife. He proposed to Pat on their very first date, and she said no. So he drove her to dates with other men for years until she finally reconsidered. He said it was love at first sight. He’s never had a mistress. And jowls or no jowls, his family adores him.”

Aegon turns to you, still clutching the washcloth against his face. “Really?”

You nod. “That’s the sort of thing the women talk about.”

There’s a knock at the door. You all look at each other, confounded; no one has ordered room service, no one is expecting any visitors, and the nannies have keys in the event of an emergency. Fosco is closest to the door, so he opens it. A man in uniform is standing there with a golden Western Union telegram in his hands. Alicent screams and collapses. Criston bolts to her.

“It’s okay,” you say. “He’s not dead. Whatever happened, Daeron’s not dead.”

Otto crinkles his brow at you. “How do you know?”

“Because if he was killed, there would be a priest here too.” They always send a priest when the boy is dead. Aegon glances at you, eyes wet and fearful.

“Ma’am,” the soldier—a major you see now, spotting the golden oak leaves—says to Alicent as he removes his cap. “I regret to inform you that your son Daeron was missing in action for several weeks, and we’ve just received confirmation that he’s being held as a prisoner of war in Hỏa Lò Prison.”

“He’s in the Hanoi Hilton?!” Otto exclaims. “Oh, fuck those people and their swamp, how did Kennedy ever think we had something to gain from getting tangled up in that mess?”

“But he’s alive?” Aemond says. “He’s unharmed?”

“Yes sir,” the captain replies. “It is our understanding that he is in good condition. The North Vietnamese are aware that he is a very valuable prisoner, like Admiral McCain’s son John. He’ll be used in negotiations. He is of far more use to them alive than dead.”

“So we can get Daeron back,” Aegon says. “I mean, we have to be able to, right? Aemond’s running for president, he’ll probably win in November, we have millions of dollars, we can spring one man out of some third-world jail, right?”

The captain continues: “Tomorrow when your family returns to New Jersey, the Joint Chiefs of Staff will be there to discuss next steps with you. I’m afraid I’m only authorized to give you the news as it was relayed to me.” He entrusts the telegram to Otto, who rapidly opens it and stares down at the mechanical typewriter words.

“I have to pray,” Alicent says suddenly. “Helaena, will you pray with me? There’s a Greek church down the road. Holy Trinity, I think it’s called.”

Obediently, Helaena joins her mother and follows her to the doorway. Criston leaves with them. Otto gives his new wife a harsh, meaningful stare. Ludwika, an ardent yet covert atheist, sighs irritably. “Wait. I want to pray too,” she says, and vanishes with them into the hall.

As the captain departs, Mimi sits up on the couch, blinking, groggy. “What? What happened?”

“Go with Alicent,” Otto tells her. “She’s headed downstairs.”

“What? Why…?”

“Just go!” he barks.

Mimi staggers to her feet and hobbles out of the hotel room, her sundress—patterned with forget-me-nots—billowing around her. The only people left are Otto, Aemond, Fosco, Aegon, and you. The fact that you are the sole woman permitted to remain here feels intentional.

After a moment, Otto speaks. “You know, John McCain has famously refused to be released from the Hanoi Hilton until all the men imprisoned before him have been freed. He doesn’t want special treatment. And that’s a very noble thing to do, don’t you think? It has endeared him and the McCains to the public.”

Aemond and Otto are looking at each other, communicating in a silent language not of letters or accents but colors: red ambition, green hunger, grey impassionate morality. Fosco is observing them uneasily. Aemond says at last: “Daeron wants to help this family.”

“You’re not going to try to get him out.” Aegon realizes.

Aemond turns to him, businesslike, vague distant sympathy. “It’s only until November.”

“No, you know people!” Aegon explodes. “You pick up the phone, you call in every favor, you get him out of there now! You have no idea if he has another three months, you don’t know what kind of shape he’s in! They could be dislocating his arms or chopping off his fingers right now, they could be starving him, they could be beating him, you can’t just leave him there!”

“It’s not your decision. It could have been, had you accepted your role as the eldest son. But you didn’t. So it’s my job to handle these things. You don’t get to hate me for making choices you were too cowardly too take responsibility for.”

“But Daeron could die,” Aegon says, his voice going brittle.

“Any of us could die. We’re in a very dangerous line of work. Greatness killed Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Huey Long, Medgar Evers, John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, Vernon Dahmer, Martin Luther King Jr., does that mean we should all give up the fight? Of course not. The work isn’t finished. We have to keep going.”

“Will you stop pretending this is about America?! This is about you wanting to be president, and everything you’ve ever done has been in pursuit of that trophy, and you keep shoving new people into the line of fire and it’s not right!”

“Aegon,” Otto says calmly. “It’s unlikely we’d be able to get him out before the election anyway. Negotiations take time. But if Aemond wins in November, he’ll be in a very advantageous position. The North Vietnamese aren’t stupid. They wouldn’t kill the brother of a U.S. president. They don’t want their vile little corner of the world flattened by nukes.”

“Still, it feels so wrong to leave a brother in peril,” Fosco says. “It is unnatural. Of course Aegon will be upset. We could at least see what a deal to get Daeron released would entail, maybe his arrival home would be a good headline—”

“And who the fuck asked you?” Otto demands, and Fosco goes quiet.

“Okay, then tell Mom,” Aegon says to Aemond. “Tell her you’re going to pretend Daeron made some self-sacrificial vow not to come home until all the other POWs can too. Tell her you’re going to let him get tortured for a few months before you take this seriously.”

Aemond replies cooly: “Why would you want to upset her? She can’t change it. You’ll only make her suffering worse.”

“What do you think?” Otto asks you, and you know that he isn’t seeking counsel. He’s summoning you like a dog to perform a trick, like an actor to recite a line. He’s waiting for you to say that it’s a smart strategy, because it is. He’s waiting for you to bend to Aemond’s will as your station requires you to, as moons are bound to their planets.

“I think it’s wrong,” you murmur; and Aemond is thunderstruck by your treason.

Without another word, you walk into the bathroom, turn on the sink, and gaze down at Aegon’s blood on your palm. For some reason, it’s very difficult to bring yourself to wash it away.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s mid-August now, the world painted in goldenrod yellow and sky blue. The Democratic National Convention is in two weeks. You and Aemond are posing on the beach at Asteria, surrounded by an adoring gaggle of journalists who are snapping photographs and jotting down quotes on their notepads. You’re sitting demurely on a sand dune, you’re building sandcastles with the children you borrowed from Aegon and Helaena, you’re flying kites, you’re gazing confidently into the sunlit horizon where a glorious new age is surely dawning.

“Mr. Targaryen, what is it that makes your partnership so successful?” a journalist asks as flashbulbs pulse like lightning. “What do you think is the most crucial characteristic to have in a wife?”

Aemond doesn’t need to consider this before he answers. He always has his compliment picked out. “Loyalty,” your husband says. “Not just to me or to the Targaryen family, but to our shared cause. This year has been indescribably difficult for me and my wife. I announced my candidacy, we embarked on a strenuous national campaign that we’re currently only halfway through, I barely survived a brutal assassination attempt in May, in July we lost our first child to hyaline membrane disease after he was born six weeks prematurely, and at the beginning of this month we learned that my youngest brother Daeron was taken by the North Vietnamese as a prisoner of war. To find the strength not just to get out of bed in the morning, not just to be there for me and this family in our personal lives, but to tirelessly traverse the country with me inspiring Americans to believe in a better future…it’s absolutely remarkable. I’m in awe of her. And when she is the first lady of the United States, she will continue to amaze us all with her unwavering faith and dedication.”

There are whistles and cheers and strobing flashbulbs. You smile—elegant, soft, practiced—as Aemond rests a hand firmly on your waist. You lean into him, feeling out-of-place, bewildered that you’ve ever slept with him, full of dull panic that soon you’ll have to again.

“How about you, Mrs. Targaryen?” another reporter asks. “Same question, essentially. What is the trait that you most admire in your husband?”

And in the cascading clicks of photographs being captured, your mind goes entirely blank. You can think of so many other people—Aegon, Ari, Alicent, Daeron, Fosco, Cosmo—but not Aemond. It’s like you’ve blocked him out somehow, like he’s a sketch you erased. But you can’t hesitate. You can’t let the uncertainty read on your face. You begin speaking without knowing where you’re going, something that is rare for you. “Aemond is the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. When he has a goal in mind, nothing can stop him.” You pause, and there are a few awkward chuckles from the journalists. You swiftly recover. “He never stops learning. He always knows the right thing to do or say. And what he wants more than anything is to serve the American people. Aemond won’t disappoint you. He’s not capable of it. He will do whatever it takes to make this country more prosperous, more peaceful, and more free.”

There are applause and gracious thank yous, but Aemond gives you a look—just for a second, just long enough that you can catch it—that warns you to get it together. Fifteen minutes later, he and the flock of reporters are headed to one of the guest houses to conduct a long-form interview. This will be the bulk of the article; you will appear in one or two photos, you will supply a few quotes. The rest of the story is Aemond. You are an accessory, like a belt or a bracelet. He’s the person who picks you out of a drawer each morning and wears you until you go out of fashion.

Released from your obligations, you return to the main house and disappear into your upstairs bathroom. You are there for fifteen minutes and emerge rattled, routed. You pace aimlessly around your bedroom for a while, then try again; still no luck. You go back outside and stare blankly at the ocean, wondering what you’re going to do. Down on the beach, Fosco is teaching the kids how to yo-yo. Ludwika is sunbathing in a bikini.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You whirl to see Aegon, popping a Valium into his mouth and washing it down with a splash of straight rum from a coffee mug. “Huh? Nothing. I’m great.”

“No, something’s wrong. You look lost. You look like me.”

You gaze out over the ocean again, chewing your lower lip.

Aegon snickers, fascinated, sensing a scandal. “What did you do?”

Your eyes drift to him. “You can’t make fun of me.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

There is a long, heavy lull before you answer. When you speak, it’s all in a rush, like you can’t unburden yourself of the words fast enough. “I put a tampon in and I can’t get it out.”

Aegon immediately breaks his promise and cackles. “You did what?!” Then he tries to be serious. “Wait. Sorry. Uh, really?”

You’re on the verge of tears. “I’ve been bleeding since I had the baby, and I hate using tampons, I almost never do, but Aemond wanted me to wear this dress for the photoshoot and it’s super gauzy and from certain angles I felt like I could see the pad bulge when I checked in the mirror, so I put a tampon in for the first time in probably a year. I’m not even supposed to be using them for another few weeks because my uterus isn’t healed all the way or whatever. And now I can’t get it out and it’s been in there for like six hours and I’m scared I’m going to get an infection and die in the most pointless, humiliating way imaginable.”

“Okay, calm down, calm down,” Aegon says. “There’s no string?”

“No, I’ve checked multiple times. It must be a defective one and they forgot to put a string in it at the factory and I didn’t notice, or the string somehow got tucked under it, I don’t know, but I can’t get it out, it’s like…the angle isn’t right. I can just barely feel it with my fingertips, but I can’t grab it. I’m going to have to go to the hospital to get it taken out, but I’m scared word will spread and journalists will show up to get photos when I leave and then everyone will be asking me why I was at the emergency room to begin with and I’m going to have to make up something and…and…” You can’t talk anymore. There are other reasons why you don’t want to go to the hospital. You haven’t stepped foot in one since Ari died; the thought makes you feel like you are looking down to see blood on your thighs all over again, like you’ll never have enough air in your lungs.

“Did you bleed through it? Because that should help it slide out easier.”

“I don’t know,” you moan miserably. “I mean, I guess I did, because there was blood when I checked a few minutes ago. I had to stuff my underwear with toilet paper.”

“Why didn’t you just tell Aemond you couldn’t wear this dress?”

You give him an impatient glance. “I’m tired of having the same conversation.” When do you think you’ll be done bleeding? When do you think it’ll be time to start trying again?

Aegon sighs. “Do you want me to get it out for you?”

“Please stop. I’m really panicking here.”

“I’m not joking.”

You stare at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I have fished many objects out of many orifices, you cannot shock me. I am unshockable.”

“I’d rather walk down to the sand right now and strangle myself with Fosco’s yo-yo.”

“Okay. So who are you gonna ask to drive you to the hospital?”

You hesitate.

“I’d offer to do it,” Aegon says, grinning, holding up his mug. “But I’m in no condition to drive.”

“But you are in the proper condition to extract a rogue tampon, huh?”

“Two minutes tops. That’s a guarantee. My personal best is fifteen seconds. And that was for a lost condom, much trickier to locate than a tampon.”

Perhaps paradoxically, the more you consider his offer, the more tempting it seems. No complicated trip and cover story? Over in just a few minutes? “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will never forgive you. I will hate you forever.”

Aegon taunts: “I thought you already hated me.”

You aren’t sure what you feel for him, but it’s certainly not hate. Not anymore. “Where would we do it?”

“In my office. And by that I mean my basement.”

“Your filthy, disease-ridden basement? On your shag carpet full of crabs?”

“You’re in luck,” he jokes. “My crab exterminator service just came by yesterday.”

You exhale in a low, despairing groan.

“Hey, would you rather do it on the dining room table? I’m game. Your choice.”

You watch the seagulls swooping in the afternoon air, the banners of sailboats on the glittering water. “Okay. The basement.”

You walk with Aegon to the house and—after ensuring that no one is around to notice—sneak with him down the creaking basement steps, the door locked behind you. Aegon is darting around; he sets a small trashcan by the carpet and tosses you two towels, then goes to wash his hands in his tiny bathroom, not nearly enough room for someone to stretch out across the linoleum floor.

You’re surveying the scene nervously. “I don’t want to get blood all over your stuff.”

“You’re the cleanest thing that’s ever been on that carpet. Lie down.”

You place one towel on the green shag carpet, then whisk off your panties, discard the bloody knot of toilet paper in the trashcan, and pull the skirt of your dress up around your waist so it’s out of the way. Then you sit down and drape the second towel over your thighs so you’re hidden from him, like you’re about to be examined by a doctor. Your heart is thumping, but you don’t exactly feel like you want to stop. It’s more exhilarating than fear, you think; it is forbidden, it is shameful, it is a microscopic betrayal of Aemond that he’ll never know about.

Aegon moseys out of the bathroom, flicking drops of water from his hands. He wears one of his usual counterculture uniforms: a frayed green army jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, khaki shorts, tan moccasins. He kicks them off before he kneels on the shag carpet. He checks the clock on the wall. “2:07. I promised two minutes max. Let’s see how I do. Ready?”

You rest the back of your head on your linked hands, raise your knees, take a deep and unsteady breath. “Ready.”

But he can see that you’re shaking. “Hey,” Aegon says kindly, pressing his hand down on the towel so you’re covered. “Do you want me to go to the hospital with you? I’ll try to distract people. I’ll pretend I’m having a seizure or something.”

“No, I’m okay,” you insist. “I just want it out. I want this over with.”

“Got it.” And then he begins. He stares at the wall to his left, not looking at you, navigating by feel. You feel the pressure of two fingers, a stretching that is not entirely unpleasant. He’s warm and careful, strangely unobtrusive. Still, you suck in a breath and shift on the carpet. “Shh, shh, shh,” Aegon whispers, skimming his other hand up and down the inside of your thigh, and shiver like you’ve never felt before rolls backwards up the length of your spine. “Relax. You alright?”

“Fine. Totally fine.”

“Oh yeah, it’s definitely in there,” Aegon says. His brow is creased with comprehension. “No string…you’re right, it must either be tangled up somehow or it never had one to begin with. Maybe you accidentally inserted it upside down.”

“Now you insult my intelligence. As if I’m not embarrassed enough.”

“I should have put on a record to set the mood. What gets you going, Marvin Gaye? Elvis?”

“The seductive voice of Richard Milhous Nixon. Maybe you can get him on the phone.”

Aegon laughs hysterically. His fingertips push the tampon against your cervix and you yelp. “Sorry, sorry, my mistake,” Aegon says. There are beads of sweat on his forehead, on his temples; now his eyes are squeezed shut. “I’m gonna try to wiggle it out…”

As he works, there are sensations you can’t quite explain: a very slow-building indistinct desire, a loosening, a readying, a drop in your belly when you think about the fact that he’s the one touching you. Then he happens to press in just the right spot and there is a sudden pang of real pleasure—craving, aching, a deep red flare of previously unfathomable temptation—and you instinctively reach for him. You hand meets his forearm, and for the first time since he started Aegon looks at your face, alarmed, afraid that he’s hurt you again. But once your eyes meet you’re both trapped there, and you can’t pretend you’re not, his fingers still inside you, his pulse racing, a rivulet of sweat snaking down the side of his face, his eyes an opaque murky blue like water you’re desperate to claw your way into. You know what you want to tell him, but the words are impossible. Don’t stop. Come closer.

Aegon clears his throat, forces himself to look away, and at last dislodges the tampon. It appears dark and bloody in his grasp. “No string,” he confirms, holding it up and turning it so you can see. “Factory reject.”

“Just like you.”

He glances at the clock. “2:09. I delivered precisely what was promised.” He chucks the tampon into the trashcan and then grins as he helps pull you upright with his clean hand. “So do you like to cuddle afterwards, or…?”

You’re giggling, covering your flushed face. “Shut up.”

“Personally, I enjoy being ridden into the ground and then called a good boy.”

“Go away.” You nod to where he disposed of the tampon and say before stopping to think: “You’re not going to keep that under your ashtray too?”

Aegon freezes and blinks at you. He smiles slowly, cautiously. “No, I think that would be a little unorthodox, even for me.” He pitches you a clean washcloth from the bathroom closet. “That should get you upstairs.”

“Thanks.” You shove it between your legs and rise to your feet, smoothing the skirt of your dress. “I owe you something. I’m not sure what, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Hey,” Aegon says, and waits for you to turn to him. “Maybe I’m not that bad.”

“Maybe,” you agree thoughtfully.

Just before you hurry upstairs, you steal a glimpse of Aegon in the bathroom, the door kicked only half-closed. He has turned on the water, but he’s not using it yet. Aegon is staring down at the blood on his hand, half-dried scarlet impermanent ink.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hi, it’s me again. I’m in solitary confinement. There’s a guy in the cell next to mine; we talk to each other with a modified version of Morse code. Tap tap tap on the wall, he taps back, etcetera etcetera, you get the idea. You’re not going to believe this, but he says his name is John McCain. Well, actually, he told me his name is Jobm McCbin, but I think that’s because I translated the taps wrong. I might be in the Hanoi Hilton, but at least they have me in the VIP section! Hahaha.

Every few hours the guards show up to do a very impressive magic trick: they wave their batons like wands, I turn black and blue. Sometimes one of my teeth even disappears. Isn’t that something? Houdini would love it. There’s a rat that I’m making friends with. I give her nibbles of my stale bread, she gives me someone to talk to. She’s good company. I’ve named her Tessarion.

Allow me to make something absolutely fucking clear.

I would very much like to be rescued.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x you

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misguidedasgardian · 8 months

Text

I need to... (1)

1... Get the f*ck out of here

MASTERLIST

Summary: An awful event leads you to rethink of everything

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader (for now)

Warnings: There are mentions of them being Minors! at some point in their relationship, cursing, cheating, angst, depression, age gap (not for reader), coercion, toxic relationship, drinking alcohol to cope, in some countries it is underage drinking, (reader is 18). might forget some warnings…

Wordcount: 4 k

Notes: This just started like a blurb, and now we are here. AAAHHHH this is going to be soft, romcom sort of thing, but a bit angsty at first…

You knew him like the palm of your hand, and that is how you could pinpoint the exact day something went wrong, were perhaps his affair started, you couldn’t be sure

You wanted to go to Winterfell University, it was far North in the continent, they say it was always winter there, cold, and wild, but you had seen pictures and had been there briefly on vacations with your family and you absolutely loved it, besides, it had a great program on what you wanted to study, you wanted an adventure, you wanted to completely change your surroundings, get out of your comfort zone, fly off the nest.

But Aemond, your loving boyfriend and highschool sweetheart didn’t think so, you didn’t want to break your relationship, besides, Aemond’s family owned an airline, it would be a four hour journey to meet you there. But he insisted it was too far. You believed that on the one hand that a time apart could be good for you, you would miss him more, and therefore your reunions would be way more intense and hotter, but no.

An that time it made sense, you were drawing your future together, so he convinced you to go to Dragonstone University with him. The university of his dreams.

It was completely his environment, the university specialized on what he wanted to study, diplomacy and political sciences, so for him it was a perfect fit.

But not for you

All the alumni were perfect, serious, dressed like they all belonged to old money, just like Aemond, he was like a fish of the same pond, and you? were a fucking Alligator. You felt big, clumsy, unwanted.

There wasn’t a career in design, like the one you wanted to follow, instead, there was plastic arts and photography, even architecture, so, in your first year, you made sure to take a couple of subjects leading in all of those directions.

That was your first mistake.

You should have stayed in architecture, maybe, photography even, but instead, you decided to take a course with Professor Alys Rivers. In a plastic arts class

That was your second

Soon you became some sort of friends

She was tall, beautiful, dark long locks, big green eyes, the woman was stunning, young, just started teaching, and soon she became your mentor

You liked her

She realized you were frustrated, and take special care in you, mentoring you, and keeping you close to her, she told you maybe you would be good at teaching, and maybe she wouldn’t have taken so long in deciding she wanted to teach

She was thirty five years old

But as Aemond was thriving, you were quickly losing yourself

Classes were boring, didn't raise your interest, the people here were strange, you were afraid to say you weren’t making any friends and not for the lack of trying

It got so bad you only went out with Aemond, who was even after a few months, the most popular guy in his class, it was becoming a very unbalanced relationship

You and Aemond had grown up together, you were neighbors with his nephews Jacaerys, Lucerys and joffrey, the first one being your classmate with Aemond

You played together as children, and in eleventh grade he had formerly asked you to date him, to be his girlfriend

Both your families were ecstatic

HIghschool sweethearts, you knew each other forever, you were going to marry and live a perfect life, Aemond wanted to be a diplomat, and you were catching up to be his beautiful, smart, joyful trophy wife.

You didn’t see it that way then

You wanted to follow a design career, he didn’t take you seriously, but encouraged you

The problem is that Winterfell was too far away, so he convinced you to take architecture courses in his university, the best one in the country for what he wanted, the kind of university that grooms the men and women that were going to take over the world one day. It was huge, a big castle from five thousand years ago, the least you could do was enjoy the architecture.

He was the perfect man, the perfect boyfriend, the one your parents would adore, and they did, he was chivalrous, patient, kind, generous…

You introduced him to your favorite teacher hen you ran into each other at the campus’ coffee shop

That was your third mistake, to invite Alys to join you both to take a cup of coffee,

If you only payed attention to the looks they gave each other

“So she is the teacher you have talked to me about”, Aemond said sheepishly, you only hummed as you kept reading a tome about a tyroshi painter who was the first in drawing the human body in all its forms, he was sort of famous, had lived more than a thousand years ago

“Yes, she is so sweet”, you whispered, “she is an artist, but so down to earth you know?”, you said without even thinking, “you can completely see the process behind her works, she is amazing”

Aemond had the luck (or money), to get single in the dorms, so he slept alone, so you could stay with him anytime you’d like, and you really liked it, your roommate was a bit mean.

And suddenly, Aemond has to study… a lot, you didn’t sleep with him anymore, even though your after class activities were as active as ever.

He was concentrating on his classes, (or that is what you thought), so you were going to start and do the same, and you tried, so so hard

But you were failing

You were already started the last month of the semester, and two of your teachers told you unceremoniously, that you were failing

BAD

You barely contained your tears, your lips were quivering and your nose tickled, and you went to the only person who could bring you comfort… one of the two… your professor Alys, whose class you had been getting pure A’s in

You never saw it coming

Her classroom was the last one in one of the towers of the incredible castle, and when you started climbing up the stairs, your stomach sank

It was late, the sun already hiding on the horizon, but you knew she was still in her atelier, and there she was

You could what the moans and whispers before you saw them, your cheeks heated and a sick curiosity made you sneak a peek inside the classroom

Oh how you wish you didn’t

There she was, your thirty five year-old teacher being pounded by your nineteen year old boyfriend

You’d recognize that silver hair anywhere, everywhere

You wanted to throw up

Alys and Aemond, Aemond was fucking Alys

Together

Fucking

Sweating

You just stood there

Your arm moved alone, as you raised your phone and took a picture of them, you could need it for later, but it wasn’t you who made that decision, it certainly wasn’t you

You were crying

You covered your mouth to sob outloud and for them to hear it, and you walked away, it was a miracle you managed to went down those treacherous steps and not smash your head, perhaps you would have preferred it, to smash your head against the stone floors, to turn off your head

the tears stopped, and your feet moved on your own as they took you out of there, you didn’t want anyone to see you, you didn’t want to give this university more of you, not your tears, not more of your efforts, no nothing

You didn’t go to your room, you couldn’t, you know she was going to be there, Maris Baratheon, and you couldn’t face her, not now, not ever.

You needed something else…

So you walked to the only bar near campus, many of your classmates would call it a “slum”, it wasn’t very popular with students, and that’s exactly what you needed.

You sat on a stool on the bar, and waited for the bartender to get to you, didn’t push him, just looked at the

“looks like you need a drink”, you looked to the side to find a young guy, maybe short twenties, dark born hair, green eyes

“Don’t I?”, you mocked, smiling shyly, he was cute. You couldn’t help but notice his Winterfell University Jersey. He offered you a pint, and you took it gladly, you really needed it, “aren’t you a bit far from”, you pointed at his chest where the varsity letters told you where he was from, he only chuckled

“They sent me in a… diplomatic mission”, he said with a mystery tone, and wiggling his eyebrows

“Are you recruiting students to go to the far North?”, you said, and if he said yes, you were going to beg him to take you with him

“Yes”

“Oh”, you seemed truly amused so he offered you his hand

“Ben Tallheart”, he whispered, and you shook his hand, giving him your name. “What do you know about the university anyways?”, he asked, taking a sip of his beer

“I wanted to apply there”, you answered, and he looked at you surprised, “I wanted to take the designer degree”

“Why didn’t you?”, he asked

“I decided to follow my boyfriend here, who I just found out is screwing my plastic arts teacher”, he spitted his beer

“What?”, he asked, not knowing if to laugh or just be horrified

“Yep”, you said, taking a long sip of your own beer

“Uf, that must be tough”, speak of the devil, your phone started ringing, to no surprise, you discovered it was Aemond who was calling you, and fuck it hurt

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this”, you said to him, canceling the call, you just wouldn’t let it ring, you wanted him to realize you had hung up on him. Ben smiled, asking the bartender for two tequila shots

It was to pints later and five tequila shots, that you were laughing your face out, hugging him with one of your arms the shoulders of Ben

“I want to go to Winterfell, fuck this college”

“Yes, fuck it!”, he said, “this college sucks, filled with stuck ups…”

Your phone had ringed so much it vibrated off the table and it was currently missing from your earshot and eye shot

You didn’t want to know either

“You think they’ll take me?”, you asked him with teary eyes

“Of course they will!”, he laughed

“Half semester?”, you asked

“Of course!”

“Let’s fucking do it!”, you cheered, and everyone in the bar cheered with you, “I need to get the fuck outta here”, you said, and Ben laughed wholeheartedly.

The rest of the night was a blur, you knew Ben had walked with you back to campus and accompanied you to the door of your room

“My stuck up roommate is probably in”, you told him, and he nodded

“If you meant what you said”, he said, “and you are truly interested in coming to Winterfell University, here”, he passed you his presentation card, “give me a ring tomorrow”, you only nodded

“Thank you”, you whispered, and he only nodded, and left you.

You entered your room and there she was, your roommate, putting innumerable creams in her face

“Eh, where have you been?”, oh that tone

“What?”, you asked, already coming down from your binge, “what do you care?”

“Ugh, you’re drunk!?”

“A little”, you grumbled, dropping to your bed

“Iu”, she whined, “Aemond was here you know, looking for you”, she told you, “you truly don’t deserve him, he was so concerned”

Oh poor Aemond, he couldn’t find you after he was fucking your plastic arts teacher, i bet that filthy motherfucker didn’t even shower before he came looking for you

“I bet”, you whispered, you then remembered you couldn’t find your phone, probably was still on the floor of that bar… Shit you were going to need it if you truly planned on contacting Ben for that transfer.

But tonight you couldn’t do anything because you were practically kicked out of that bar, it had to be tomorrow, so, to the horror of your roommate, you just dozed off, dressed in the same clothes, reeking of bar and secondhand smoke.

The next morning you woke up and thankfully, you were alone, your head hurt, but not as much as your heart.

Gods it hurt

You had burned the image of Aemond and Alys, fucking on top of her desk, and you couldn’t believe it. Aemond, your Aemond.

Your nose started to tickle, knowing you were about to cry you stood up, and searched for a change of clothes, you took your towel, and went straight for the bathroom, to wash your night off of your hair.

That morning you had classes with profes-… with that bitch Alys, so you didn’t even bother showing up. And since most of the college was in classes by now, you found yourself alone in the big bathroom.

You hadn't cried until now, but as you undressed yourself and got under the generous flow of water, something inside you just… unraveled. You started weeping uncontrollably, choking with your tears and the water, you hugged yourself under the falling boiling water seeking for comfort, but you couldn’t find any

Every breath you took hurt, deep within your chest, and you cried and cried until you felt your eyes sore

Your Aemond, your boyfriend, the one that gave you a promise ring… the one you knew since kindergarten, the one who was your first kiss, your first… everything! He was cheating on you with your own professor, Alys, the one that encouraged you and tried to nurture you, and guide you through this uncertainty in this part of your life. The one that you considered to be your only stone here besides your loving boyfriend

What was wrong with them?

What was wrong with you? What did you do wrong? you chose school because of him, you changed careers, you endured a hell for him, you dressed how he liked it, to arranged your hair the way he liked it, you stopped doing things you enjoyed, stopped watching films that made you laugh because they were “childish”, you stopped listening to upbeat music because it wasn’t “proper”

Everything for him

You loved him with all your heart

You knew Friday morning he had this debate class, very important and he couldn’t miss it, or he would have been throwing your door down, so you took that as a sign, you needed to work fast and sneakily.

You needed to get out of here

You didn’t want to see him ever again

So you ran back to your room, got dressed quickly, and the first thing you did was run back to the bar, where the cleaning lady returned your phone to you.

You turned it on and to no surprise, you found thousands of texts and missed calls from Aemond

“love where are you?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m coming to your dorm”

“Maris says you were not there, wtf? where are you?”

“You clearly don’t want to speak to me, but I just wanted to know you are ok”

“I don’t understand why you are doing this to me, did I do something wrong? Are you mad?”

“The least you could do is face me like an adult”

You rolled your eyes as you read the messages, he growing angrier, trying to turn this on you

But then he sent a video of a instagram story, of you and Ben hugging and laughing, taking tequila shots, it was uploaded by a classmate of Aemond who had clearly saw you

“I see that you were not alone, I can’t believe you would do this to me”, he wrote, and you chuckled darkly, the audacity of him had no limits whatsoever, “I just wanted to see you, and be with you, I wanted you to help me study for my finals, I know this few months had been hard on you, but I least I thought we had eachother”, but then it got worse, he send you a picture of a flower bouquet and a dark red box, “I wanted to gift you this, to show you how much I love you, and how much I was looking forward to a future with you”, you couldn’t kept walking, you had to sit down in a bench looking down at a cliff, you couldn’t even walk because of how much you were crying.

You couldn’t believe this

Why would he do this to you? you had given him your everything, you had sex almost every day, you complimented each other, you told each other everything, you were what you thought a power couple, only that he had all the power while you were his cheerleader….

This fucker, you wiped your tears angrily from your face.

You were feeling a pain in your chest and you truly believed for a second you were having a heart attack, that you were positively going to die right here in this rusty bench, alone.

Your drunken thoughts from last night came rushing back in, of wanting to transfer to Winterfell University half semester.

It was an insane thought

But you also believe you couldn’t stay here, for what? this isn’t what you wanted, the only thing you thought you had was Aemond, who you just found out fucking YOUR teacher in the classroom. Staying here was insane, you had no friends, now you had no boyfriend, no career

When you finally calmed down and walked back to your dorm room, Aemond was waiting for you right outside.

And it's like all your convictions of leaving him and this school faltered just like that, just seeing him like that standing, his furrowed brow looking concerned for you. He was worried bout you, for a second you even believed that this was all a misunderstanding, they he couldn’t possibly do this to you

Right then and there you just wanted to beg him to stop, to stop his affair and look you in the eye and promise you it was never going to happen again, that he loved you, that you were the one. That he was drunk, or she made him do it. She coerced him into it.

But then he looked at you, and his concern went to annoyance

“Where have you been?”, he asked, walking towards you, “I was concerned for you!”, he immediately went to himself and what he was feeling, and you didn’t know where you got the strength from, but you looked at him, serious in the eye

“I failed color theory and anatomy drawing class”, you said, looking him in the eye, and the worst part is that you weren’t truly lying. His face softened as he looked at you with pity, “I feel like a massive failure, and I didn’t want to cry to you because you are already in the excellency program”, you whispered, looking at the ground in front of you

“So your solution was to go drink at a bar?”, he asked then, again, annoyed

“I found this guy that was from Winterfell University, the one I wanted to go, and asked him about the programs…”, he sighed

“We talked about this”, he said, “that college is not even ranking…”

“I don’t care Aemond”, you whispered, “I just need to sleep, please, and you are going to be late”, you whispered, not daring to look him in the eye

You believed you knew his schedule, but apparently not, because when he was supposed to be in study group, he was fucking your teacher…

“Are you going to be alright?”, he asked, “because I need my study partner”, he said, trying to sound hopeful. Yes you helped him study, you prepared flashcards for him, because you knew he had visual memory so he studied better with colors and images, so you prepared his study material and quizzed him

Maybe a couple of times with stripping quizzes…

Oh how foolish you had been

“Yes Aem”, you said, managing to smile at him, “I just need some time”

“You have it love”, he whispered, “I love you”

“Love you”, you closed the door gently, leaving him outside, and threw yourself in the bed, hiding your face in the pillow and weeped a bit more.

Perhaps you should face Aemond, hear what he has to say, you wanted to believe it so badly, that there was something else to it, that perhaps…

You were a fool

They were fucking on top her desk… what else is there? he was cheating on you, she was violating hundreds of protocols, so was he

You dozed off to sleep

You woke up when your roommate entered the room

“You still drunk?”, she sneered

“No”, you whispered, “just tired”, you didn’t even know why you bothered

You have made a decision…

You were going to leave this place

You were going to leave and not tell a soul, not even Aemond, you were going to disappear from his life, from one hour to the next

You contacted Ben, and he told you everything you need to know, the semester was almost over, but the next one was just around the corner, and you had to do this, not even for spite, but because this is what you wanted from your future

So you did the only thing you could think off

So went to speak with the dean

She was an old family friend, she knew your parents and family since forever, she was very professional and never showed favoritism, but, you knew you were on her good side

“I want to know if I can transfer to another university”, you asked shakily, once she invited you to take a seat in in front of her desk, she looked at you puzzled

“Did something happen? the school year is not even over yet”, she said with her kind eyes, truly worried for you

“I realized I didn’t choose the university for the school path I wanted to take”, you tried to explain, but the sorrow in your face made her believe you were not being truthful, or that you weren’t telling her the truth, “I choose Dragonstone because of love”. you continued, “and now I don’t have that love, and… I want to study a design mayor”

“I see”, now she was more pleased, “Where would you like to go?”, she asked

“Winterfell University”, you said without even thinking about it, she only nodded

“I have a good friend up there”, she said, “so the change wouldn’t be the problem, you have the grades and the Maester exams scores in your favor, but, are you sure this is what you want?”, she asked.

“More than anything”, you said with a smile

Rhaenys Targaryen was the cousin of Aemond’s father, but they didn’t get along very well, it was messy, she was the Headmaster to Dragonstone University

“You will have to start in the middle of the year”, she warned, and you only nodded

“It’s what I want”, you assured her, she looked at you, analyzing you

“Good, but first, I need you to finish the courses you are in”, your face said it all as it froze in place, looking at the face of that witch is the last thing you wanted to do

“That is expected of me”, you said, and smiled, she smiled back

“I’ll start with the paperwork, I have already received a letter of recommendation from Ben Tallheart, a representative of Winterfell university that is in the grounds this week”

“Yeah, I’ve met him”, you said smiling shyly

“Good luck finishing the rest of the courses”

Luck, you will need.

After chapter notes: look, if I stopped and wrote all the details of their relationship, this whole fic would be around them, so I narrated what happened instead of making the reader “live it”, get my meaning? This is about healing and seeing that there is something more than “that great love”, so I didn’t stop to focus on the toxic relationship with Aemond, so… One mroe chapter of reader's mess, and we are off to Winterfell! jeje

taglist!

@mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff

#misguidedneed #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hbo house of the dragon #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan stark

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writingsofwesteros · 1 year

Text

ＮＡＶＩＧＡＴＩＯＮ

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ 1

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ 2

LINKS

NEW AU Blueprint

Monthly Works

Kinktober

Home of the Visuals

DEADWOOD

Deliciously Dark December

🄲🄷🄰🅁🄰🄲🅃🄴🅁 🅁🄾🄾🄼🅂 If you are desiring a certain character

AU Characters Supernatural GIF Imagines

Daemon Targaryen ---- Aemond Targaryen ---- Jace V ---- Corlys ---- Viserys ---- Robb Stark -- Jon Snow -- Criston Cole

🄸🅁🄾🄽 🄳🄾🄴

---- Iron Doe (Tywin x Stev Baratheon) ---- Iron Doe HOTD (Otto x Stev Baratheon) ---- Iron Doe Tywin/Otto ---- Wildling Doe (Mance x Stev) ---- Teacher Doe (Tywin x Stev Modern Teacher AU) ---- A dragon’s Doe (Stev x Daemon)

🄲🄰🄼 🄶🄸🅁🄻!🅁🄴🄰🄳🄴🅁

---- Cam girl!Reader x Multi

🄵🄴🄼🄰🄻🄴 🅁🄾🄱🄱 🅂🅃🄰🅁🄺

---- Slutty Modern Robyn ---- Professor Tywin ---- Taking her place

🄱🄰🄴🄻🄾🄽 🅃🄰🅁🄶🄰🅁🅈🄴🄽

---- Modern Universe ---- HOTD Universe

🄰🅄'🅂

---- Slutty Modern Alicent

---- Dragon Taboo

---- Pleasure of a Princess

---- A Costly Mistake

---- Wolf & Lion

---- Viserys’ Obsession

---- The Other Hightower

---- Aphrodisiac AU

---- Omega of Dragons

---- Free Use Maid

---- A strong wife

---- Garden Girl

---- Royal AU

---- Secret Dragon

---- Celeb Doe + Celeb AU

---- A Court of Supernatural

---- Sand Dragon

---- Flowers Around Her Heart + Modern Version

---- Caught Red Handed

---- What is honour to a woman’s love

---- Victory is his

---- Hightower in between Waves

---- The lions devours

---- the love for the history books

---- Pick Me

---- Taking a wife

---- Mistaken Identity

---- His Royce Bride

---- Winter Flower

---- Three Headed Dragon

🄷🄾🅃 🅃🄷🄾🅃🅂

---- Cregan ---- Euron ---- Jace ---- Harwin ---- Daemon ---- Alicent ---- Criston Ned

🄹🄰🄲🄴

---- His Princess

---- A strong Lioness

---- Brat Tamer

---- Taking his Wolf

---- His Hightower

---- Unknowingly trapped

---- Learning Curve

---- Running to him

---- Party Boy

Hades & Persephone AU

--- General Tag

--- The characters as Myths

🅅🄸🅂🅄🄰🄻🅂

Costume Series

NSFW Quarters

Visual Inspiration

Face Claim -- Name Tag

#masterlist #to be updated

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giorno-plays-piano · 8 months

Text

The Lovers That Went Wrong

Pairing: psycho!Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings: soft!yandere, kidnapping, threats, non-consensual confinement, manipulation, allusion to noncon, hurt/comfort.

Words: 2.4k

Summary: You flinch involuntarily as you watch him open the door to your room and take a cautious step inside as if he's keeping a dangerous animal as a pet, not a whole other human being. His eyes light up at the sight of you immediately when he sees you at the very same spot where he left you in the morning, still chained, no signs of misbehaving like throwing things around and destroying the furniture. You're not the type.

P.S. Our reader is safe and sound, no physical harm whatsoever.

P.P.S. It's not me, it's those yandere ASMRs on Youtube!

_________

He's here.

You've heard the key turning in the lock. Then, one more key in one more lock. Finally, the third lock has been opened, and then he goes to unlatch the second door before you hear him step inside, carrying something.

Is he going to kill you today?

Trying not to move, you take a shaky breath, eyes on the door. He's going to come in any second, and you don't know how to act to keep him happy. Is there a way to keep someone like him content at all? He's... not normal, that's for sure. Even if you smile and pretend to be fine, chained to his bed with so little room to move left you can't even reach the door, you think he'll see right through it and become angry at you for lying.

Not that ignoring or, god, getting angry at him gonna work either. If anything, making him mad at you is probably the most stupid option you can choose. So you don't. Albeit you wouldn't have the courage for that even if it did change anything for the better.

"I'm home."

You flinch involuntarily as you watch him open the door to your room and take a cautious step inside as if he's keeping a dangerous animal as a pet, not a whole other human being. His eyes light up at the sight of you immediately when he sees you at the very same spot where he left you in the morning, still chained, no signs of misbehaving like throwing things around and destroying the furniture. You're not the type. You're the type to sit and shake in the corner and cry till you feel like your head will explode.

"Hello," you murmur quietly, showing neither anger nor happiness at his return. Keeping the most neutral expression at times when you feel like a rabbit in front of a snake is torture, but better this than having him turn psychotic again.

He smiles at you, exhaling loudly like he was worried you'd start messing things up in his absence. "I see you've been good. That's nice. Thank you."

Nodding, you make yourself eat your words about all anxiety and fear you've had to endure today just to stay sane and stop crying. Being good, huh? Does he have any idea what it feels like to be locked in an apartment of someone who threatened to kill your classmates if you didn't go with him? What it felt like when he had pulled out a knife out of his backpack with a manic gleam right in front of your face and said he needed you to come with him if you didn't want anyone hurt?

You still don't understand how everything happened out of the blue. Aemond... never seemed unstable. He was quiet, sure, and he didn't hang out with other classmates much, but neither did you. He often sat at the back of the classroom, listening to professors with a blank look on his face, and seemed to slack off, then somehow miraculously pass the exams. You've never seen him doing anything special like playing sports or taking part in any university activity. He was just a quiet loner who didn't seem to enjoy studying. At one point, you thought he would drop out or change his major, but he didn't. After more than 3 years, he was still there, at the back of the classroom, sitting with a blank expression as the professors preached about the importance of the thesis for your successfull graduation and future work life.

Then, one day, he just walked up to you after the last lesson had finished while you were gathering your stuff and asked you to stay behind for a short talk. He said he needed to tell you something important. Considering you had spoken maybe five words to him throughout the whole year, you had no clue what he wanted to say, but maybe he needed help or something? You have always been good at studying, so, perhaps, he just needed your advice on his thesis.

He didn't.

Instead, he confessed he liked you and that he was concerned you were going to date someone else from your class - he gave you names of several students you had never even hanged out with - and then he pulled a huge, sharp knife out of his backpack. When you panicked, he grabbed your hand and whispered with that crazed look on his face that he would go and stab your classmates hanging out in the hallway if you didn't go with him.

So you did. You let him take you away, shaking at the thought that he put a knife in the large sewn-in picket inside his heavy bomber, ready to take it the moment you went back on your promise. He was going to stab someone, wasn't he? Given his height and strength, he might have even murdered someone. All because you refused to go with him.

When you think of it now, you wonder what would have happened if you attracted the attention of someone's on the way. Would Aemond really stab them with a knife, given the psychotic state he was in? Would he put a knife through your stomach? Or was it just bluff, and he'd drop the knife and run away, never to bother you again?

You'll never know now. You were so concerned about someone getting hurt you ended up in the apartment of a psychopath with your leg chained to his bed. It seems surreal, like it's all one big prank that's been going for far too long.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he says, placing a plastic bag with what smells like pasta or lasagna on a little table next to the door. "Work has been hectic, but I'm cutting down my hours to spend more time with you, so you don't have to worry."

You nod, trying not to tremble like a leaf. Spending more time with you? Great. He will kill you soon once he has enough. Don't this kind of guys always do that? They catch their prey, have fun, and then finish them off only to fixate on somebody else again.

That's what's going to happen to you.

"I'll go take a shower real quick, alright?" He asks as if your opinion actually matters, walking by the bed as you instantly move further away on the floor, your back bumping against the bed.

He pauses, turning to you fully as you bite down on your tongue not to let out a sound.

"What is it, baby?" He coos, getting down to you while you stare at your knees, afraid to lift your head and see him staring you in the face. "What happened?"

You flinch as he stretches his hand to you, and he has to pause for a second again before his palm gently lands on the top of your head. He doesn't beat you. Or, well, not yet. Despite him not hurting you within the two days you've been here, you expect him to get violent at one point. Psychos always are, right?

You mumble, worried you'll make him upset, "I'm sorry. It's nothing."

He sighs, to your horror, sitting down right in front of you. He smells like coffee and French fries, and you bite down on your lower lip, remembering he works at some café. Like other people, he has a life outside of this stuffy and yet nearly empty apartment, and in this moment, it seems so strange. That someone like him smells like another human being.

"Are you scared?" He asks in a hushed voice, careful and calm like some sort of therapist. "Is that it?"

Despite all your attempts, you feel like you will cry if he touches you again. Your throat is tight, and you can't speak, so you just nod again, head bowed so you can't see his face.

He sighs again, and you hear him shifting, crawling closer to you like a spider as you squeeze your eyes shut. Will he hit you? Rape you? Do something worse? It's only logical to suppose that. In the end, that's what they do in the movies, don't they? Since Aemond is clearly insane, that's what he'll do to you.

But then, when he sits next to you with his back pressed against the bed's leg, you feel his hands on your shoulder nudging you tenderly towards him, and you don't fight him when he makes you put your head on his chest. Today he wears a long, soft black hoodie that smells like fries, too. It's nice to the touch.

"It's alright," he whispers, making you lean onto him until you are nearly on top of him while he caresses your head. "I know it's sudden for you. You probably don't even know who I am, and then I just come and confess to you like that. It's unfair, I know. I'm sorry I couldn't wait a bit longer."

Yeah, as if it's the problem.

But you don't say anything, eyes closed, as you freeze against his hoodie.

"But, you know, it got so much better. Today a customer splashed me with coffee and sad some really hurtful things, and I didn't even care," you can nearly sense him greening before he drops a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Because I was thinking of you. Waiting for me home, sleeping in my bed, wearing my clothes. I don't remember when anyone last waited me home, you know? And now there's you."

You feel his breath on your skin before he leaves a chaste kiss on your brow, and you curl into yourself even more.

"Thank you for being here with me. I know it wasn't easy for you to trust me, but you still did." He exhales slowly, probably tired after the day in the university and at work, his other hand resting on your back, caressing you through the thick tissue of his dark green sweatshirt he gave you this morning. "Thank you."

You're glad he can't see your face because you are ready to cry any second now. You are scared, and your legs hurt from staying in this position for too long, but Aemond's touch is still comforting, and you yearn someone's body warmth just to ground yourself in this moment to keep you sane.

You are so, so tired. You don't want to die. You want to believe the things he said, the promises he made to you, but he's mad, and so are you if you really want to trust him.

Minutes fly by. You have no idea how much time you spend in his arms, but Aemond seems content, arms still wrapped around you. What is he thinking now? What does he want to do to you? He didn't force himself on you yesterday, but he can tonight. It's just a matter of time, really. And when he finds it's enough, what's gonna happen then?

"Please, don't kill me," you mutter quietly in his chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Your voice startles him awake. Apparently, he was almost lulled to sleep, and now he bends his head towards you again, taking your face in his palms to make you look at him. "What was that? Baby?"

It's torture to open your eyes when his face is inches away from yours, but you do, and then you cry. "Please, don't kill me."

The next second, he opens his pretty blue eyes wide as if you've just slapped him, discomfort clear on his pretty face. What? Is he unhappy you ruined his idyllic evening? Why does he look at you so distressed?

He puts some distance between you two, hands on your shoulders while he looks at you as you're sniffing, tears running down your face. You can't stand it. How long do you have to play his sweetheart before he cuts you in pieces and puts your remains in black plastic bags to dump somewhere deserted? Will he kill you quickly? Will he taunt you and mock you for not even looking at him at university? Will he try to prolong your suffering with drugs?

He shakes when he starts to speak, "I've never wanted to kill you. Never. Why would you think that?"

You let out a laugh at that, hands grasping his black hoodie you like so much. Why would you think a guy who threatened to kill your classmates wouldn't cut you in pieces, too? You have been chained to his bed for two days. It's nice to still be able to go to the bathroom, but that's about it. You have only a couple of books he brought for you to keep you company when he's gone, and god knows how long it's all going to last.

His grip on you gets tighter. "I swear I've never wanted to hurt you. Why did you think that? It's the knife thing yesterday, right? You got scared because I said I'm gonna cut Josh and Matteo." He gets more frantic, and you feel like you're struggling to breathe. "But I wouldn't do that to you. No! I swear. I've never wanted to make you feel bad. And the chain... I-I'm sorry about the chain and everything, but I wasn't going to keep you like this forever! It's... it's just for a couple of months, you know? So you get to know me better. I'm never going to hurt you! You're not my pet to discipline you or something. You're... "

He realizes the state he's in and makes himself stop, lips pressed tightly as he waits, regaining his composure as he's awkwardly trying to wipe away your tears with his sleeve.

Making some small soft noises, he sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck before he's ready to speak. God, why do you want to believe him so badly? Why would anything he say make any sense at all? Why are you hoping he really won't do anything when you have just been kidnapped and imprisoned in his home?

When he speaks again, his soothing voice makes you want to hide your face in his hoodie despite all the things he's done. "I really, really like you, baby. I know it's not much, but it's true. You never have to worry about getting hurt again as long as you're with me. It's a promise."

He coos at you, craddling you in his lap, and you have no strength left to do anything but lean closer to him and hide your face in his soft hoodie.

__________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #yandere #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #the house of the dragon

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