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aemnds · 11 months

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⎯ 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒.

❛ ♡. gif credit.

★ ⎯⎯ aemond targaryen is needy for his wife.

◜ ♡ ⃗ ⎯⎯ [11:40 am — aemond targaryen]

“so soft… so warm, gods— you were made for me,” aemond praises in a low murmur, pressing wet kisses along her quivering thighs, breathy moans escaping his pretty, little wife’s lips as he ravished her with teasing, wet kisses— never truly touching the place where they both knew she needed him the most.

“tell me, sweetling,” he demands, but his voice is soft and teasing— almost like a lover’s caress.

“how much do you want me to eat your sweet, little cunt.. hm?” he asks conversationally, as if he weren’t pressing open-mouthed kisses closer and closer towards her wet cunt— instead, he decided to torture her with his pillowy lips and press loving kisses along her inner thighs, happily taking his time and enjoying every second of his begging, little wife.

if there was one thing for certain— aemond targaryen loved and adored his wife… and most of all, he absolutely loved feasting on her sweet, honeyed cunt -- for it was his and belonged only to him.

she whimpered, grasping the silk, cream colored sheets below her with her head tilted back against his pillows, doe eyes shut in bliss.

“please, p-please, please— husband, do not punish me so… i need you,” she answers breathily -- needy, breathy moans escaping her pink, swollen lips.

perhaps, he would have to have her suck his cock more often… if this is what she would become afterwards— his dirty, desperate, little whore.

the sight of her was absolutely breathtaking, delirious with pleasure, cunt oozing sweet cream and swollen lips from sucking and licking his poor, aching cock was enough to drive him insane with lust and desire for her.

aemond hummed, never taking his sharp eye off of her.

“perhaps, you’re right, my beloved wife— i have been too greedy with you… mayhaps, i shall give you a treat for all of your efforts and devour your little cunt, hm?” he asks teasingly, running a long, index finger along her soaked, silky folds, hearing her breath hitch and her body visibly twitch from his touch as a gush of her sweet arousal gushed out of her little, fuck hole.

it seemed no matter how many times he had fucked his little wife, her little cunt remained tight— just like a virgin and just the way he preferred.

“hm, yes— i think that shall do quite nicely… don’t you think, sweetling?” he cooed, before lowering his face and running his hot tongue through her silky folds repeatedly, humming in satisfaction at her sweet, honeyed taste on his tongue.

she moaned loudly, gripping the silk sheets until her knuckles turned white. “oh, gods…!” she wails, her plump lips parting as sweet moans escaped her, her hips thrusting upwards to gain more friction from his mouth.

“aemond, aemond, aemond,” she pleaded, her voice so sweet and innocent. “please, please— do not stop, oh!” she sobbed, feeling his plush lips circle around her throbbing, aching clit and beginning to suck on it greedily— giving it the attention it so angrily demanded.

“i wish to propose an idea that i think you might enjoy— i shall eat your little cunt until you come over and over and over again… and if you so much as make a sound…” he says huskily, an amused smirk curling across his glistening lips from her sweetened arousal.

“well,” he drawls, looking up at his wife’s heaving, perky breasts with a dilated, amethyst eye that darkened hungrily for her.

“...i dare say that we shall have to begin all over again,” he murmured softly— hearing her whine in protest, making him slap her needy, drooling cunt in punishment, chuckling deeply at the girlish yelp that escaped her.

“shh, shh— my sweet wife, everything will be alright,” he cooed, as if calming one of their many babes that she had provided for him ever since they’ve married.

“you must behave, my love— otherwise, i will punish you… do you understand me, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low and soothing, though there was a hidden darkness behind it.

his wife nodded eagerly, always ready to please her husband.

“yes, y-yes…aemond! i promise to be your obedient, little wife,” she babbles sweetly, her voice needy and desperate for him.

aemond grinned, his sapphire eye glinting with mischief and desire. “good, good… my sweet darling, you’re already doing so, so well,” he coos again— slipping two, long and calloused fingers inside of her little, fluttering fuck hole, feeling her arousal gush around his deft fingers and her velvety walls squeeze his fingers tightly.

“hm, i dare say that you’re ready— don’t you think, sweet girl?” he asks sweetly, though his tone is anything but— if anything, it sounds sickeningly sweet and condescending.

she gasped loudly as he shoved two of his fingers inside of her, her walls clamping down on them eagerly— as if to never let him escape.

“yes, yes… i-i am ready,” she says, her voice trembling as a small sob escaped her, her little belly already beginning to coil into knots of pleasure.

aemond hummed, looking up at his beautiful wife from between her spread legs, exactly where he was laying between them— where he belonged, and could spend hours feasting on her sweet cunt.

grinning in delight, he slowly began to pump his two, long fingers in and out inside of her oozing cunt, making her wail in pleasure and squirm from her euphoric state.

he smirked, his mind kept repeating the words -- ‘mine, mine, mine— all mine.. my sweet, devoted wife… all fucking mine’— they kept repeating in his crazed, possessive mind.

aemond chuckled, before giving his wife’s little, aching clit a harsh suck, before kissing it tenderly as he heard her whimper in agonizing pleasure.

the wayward prince gave a small nod, his lips forming into a small smile and his eye glowing as he took in his wife’s beauty, his cock twitching and throbbing once more as he eyed her swollen, glistening cunt.

“good— let us begin then, my darling.”

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aemnd · 3 months

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can you imagine coming to your chambers after a long day. you find aemond reading by the fire and you just need to release some of the stress to focus on something other than the world outside so you just move in front of him drop to your knees and start undoing his pants. the only distraction you want right now is his cock in your mouth.

⎯⎯ PRETTY, PRETTY ┆ navigation. masterlist.

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: after a long, tedious day at court, you long for the comfort of your husband − and something else…

༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ warnings: minors dni. smut, canon!aemond 𝓍 wife!reader, afab reader, profanity, slightly mean!aemond (but he’s obsessed with his wife, trust me), [male] oral sex, degrading & pet names.

𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐, 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒖𝒔 ༘ ࣪𓂃 ෆ sry this took so long to write out… i didn’t know which direction to go in − i hope u love it nonetheless. ♡!

AEMOND ALWAYS ENJOYED WATCHING YOU − his one-eye focused solely on your pretty face, devouring you once again, silently admiring your sleepy, doe-like eyes blinking up at him innocently, the slope of your cute nose, your soft, flushed cheeks from the burning fireplace behind you, the light glaze of dew on your gorgeous skin from the heat of your martial chambers − gods, you were just so pretty, his pretty, pretty little wife.

fucking perfect, he thinks.

aemond also loves watching the way the tip of your soft, little pink tongue pokes out and gently kitten-licks the flushed tip of his hardening cock, teasing him into growing harder − and oh, fuck, the way your plush, pouty lips wrap around him now, suckling just the head of his cock has him let out a low, murmured curse, unable to stop himself from bucking up his hips, allowing his now fully hard cock to slip further into your mouth, nearly gagging you − however, you don’t seem to mind.

little minx, he calls you inside of his head.

in fact, you seem to enjoy his aggression, owlishly blinking up at him with those pretty doe eyes of yours, as if giving him permission to fuck your throat, making something dark and twisted inside of him release a soft, satisfied purr.

without any warning, you begin taking him deeper into your mouth, the tip of his leaking cock hitting your uvula, making you softly gag as your eyes begin to sting, but you continue on − you continue moving your mouth down, down, down until the tip of your nose nuzzles the neatly trimmed thatch of soft, platinum curls at the base of your husband’s well-endowed cock.

you hum, whimpering as you harshly hallow your cheeks, sucking and slurping at his cock messily, like you were born and bred just to do it − to sit prettily on your knees before your husband and allow him to fuck your mouth, to use your mouth whichever way he desires.

after a few minutes of this constant suckling motion, you do need a moment to breathe properly, pulling back only just slightly and wrapping one of your soft little hands around his glistening shaft, shining with the mixed essences of your saliva and his precum.

you quickly begin pumping him, hearing your husband grunt and curse, one of his big, masculine hands—calloused from his constant use with his blade—roughly bury his long fingers into your luscious locks, his one-eye heavy lidded and focused solely on you, his lips parted just slightly, panting for breath as his taut stomach tightens with the need for release.

without stopping, you continue suckling his leaking tip, swirling your tongue around it quickly, tasting him and humming, hearing him hiss from the vibration of your mouth, “fuck! fuck, have mercy on me, woman!” he growls, yanking on your hair in warning, but you don’t stop.

only, you increase your pace as you fiercely suckle just the tip of his cock, hallowing your cheeks and releasing his shaft from your hand, beginning to quickly bob your head up and down, up and down, up and down, repeatedly and fluidly, listening to your husband’s groans − as though he is in pain, but he is far from it.

as you continue to bob your head on his cock a few more times, taking him deeper each time, you reach up with the same hand you were pumping his shaft with earlier and begin fondling his heavy balls, hearing aemond let out a sharp breath, his blunt fingernails scratching your scalp, making you purr.

“fuck, you little fucking harlot,” he hisses, fisting a handful of your hair and begins to guide your bobbing head even faster than before. “just like that − mmh, fuck, your mouth…! made to suck my fucking cock,” aemond gasps, squeezing his one-eye shut tightly, feeling his balls tightening up almost to the point of pain.

then suddenly, you feel it − long, salty ropes of your husband’s seed, shooting down the back of your abused throat, making you moan breathily around the mouthful of his cock, doe eyes pooling with unshed tears and your soaked thighs pressing together beneath the fluffy skirts of your evening dress.

“that’s it,” aemond coos, keeping his cock lodged down the back of your throat, your nose pressed snuggly against the wet curls surrounding the base of his cock, your throat pulsing around him, making him groan loudly as he continues holding you down on his cock for a moment longer, until he is positive that every drop of his seed is dripping down your throat.

“take it all, that’s a good girl,” he sighs, feeling utterly spent, “we shan’t let a drop go to waste − after all, ‘tis royal seed you’re swallowing, sweet girl,” he continues mockingly, before finally releasing his harsh hold on your hair, which you take great advantage of and pull back, going into a small coughing fit, your tears finally spilling down your flushed cheeks, a small whine escaping you.

the corner of aemond’s mouth twitches, a small, amused smirk curling up on his lips, “awh, did i fuck your little throat too harshly, sweetling?” aemond asks, giving you a mocking pout.

you can only whimper and give a tiny nod of your head, pouting as you reach up and wipe away your tears, making aemond release a low, breathless chuckle, before tutting and gesturing over towards your martial bed.

“get on the bed and allow your beloved husband to return the favor.”

fin

#⠀࣪⠀ׅ ♡ ⠀࣪𓂃 #༯ venus’s works ༘˙𓂃𑁤 #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond oneshot #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond fandom #hotd aemond #hotd imagine #ewanverse #ewan nation #ewan mitchell

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

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Could you do what Aemond would be like reacting to y/n almost dying after giving birth to his daughter, but after a long fainting spell she manages to recover?

I really like your headcanons <3

Thank you so much for requesting and your interest in my oc's for Aemond's children!! Hope you don't mind I'm centering this around Elaena (the eldest). Also, thank you so much for your patience, I know this took me so long!! Words: 900. CW: dad!Aemond, pregnant!reader, little bit of angst, mentions of childbirth difficulties. Set in my 'Aemond's children' au. (but you don't have to read any of my rambles or hcs to understand this)

The Warrior Princess (drabble) • Aemond Targaryen x reader

When Aemond is high up in the skies with Vhagar, sometimes his ears start ringing because of the altitude, and his heartbeat accelerates in a way that makes him scared that his body won’t resist and he’ll end up falling from the safety of the dragon’s saddle.

It’s the exact way he’s feeling at this moment, only he isn’t on dragonback, now a familiar thrill. He’s kneeling by your side as you give birth to your first child. A moment he always imagined to be blissful, despite the conventional nervousness of the meeting of your baby, of knowing the gender of the newest heir of the Targaryen bloodline.

Instead, his heart feels as though it’s being twisted with an iron first inside his chest as you squeeze his hand and let out continuous guttural screams. There’s a brutality in childbirth he can compare to a battlefield, only worse.

Because your body hasn’t been trained to endure battle. It’s easier to protect yourself with armor and a shield. There is no escaping the searing pain that’s coming from within you and he feels so helpless.

He peppers sweet kisses to your forehead, brushes your drenched hair away from your face and neck, and cleans up the sweat dripping from your chest with a cloth – even if the midwives assisting the Maester insisted he leaves such tasks to them.

If anyone was going to offer you comfort it was him. He had sworn to you he was going to be with you all throughout the birth, unlike his ancestors before him, who waited patiently in the comfort of a faraway room – distanced from the blood and tears and guttural wails from their wives as they fought for their lives to bring heirs to the Kingdom.

There’s this lapse, amidst your cries, where you turn to look at him, and his blood turns cold.

His heart drops to his stomach and white noise engulfs the room.

Your gaze is drooping, unable to focus on his face as you slur, “I don’t think I can do this…”

“No, no, no, absolutely not. You can, dear love. You’re the strongest person I know, strongest of all the Seven Kingdoms.” He murmurs with conviction, fiercely gripping your hand – panicking when your hand feels languid in his, your head dropping to the side.

He calls for you desperately, growling and squeezing your cheek to wake you up.

It’s the stuff of his worst nightmares.

Your skin is cold and clammy, your beautiful eyes closed with a certain finality.

He turns to the Maester with fury blazing in his eye.

The Maester quickly leans into your frame to check for your pulse and visibly relaxes. “Your lady wife is alright, Prince Aemond. She’s just fainted. But we need to proceed quickly or the child will be endangered.”

Suddenly he’s being ushered out of his spot beside you, as the midwives who assist the Maester crowd around you to bring you back to consciousness.

He’s going to collapse, he’s certain.

It’s a moment that lasts mere seconds – and in that rush of time, the worst images flood through Aemond’s mind.

He cannot deal with a life without you, he’d rather die.

This he repeats over and over until his intrusive thoughts are cut by a loud gasp as you wake up in great need of air.

Aemond’s ears ring again, and the whole room spins.

He hears the ruckus of the birthing room all distorted and remote as if he’s underwater.

He staggers to reclaim his position behind you, taking your hand once more, even if his grip is weaker than before. He cannot compare his pain to your own, but still, he’s feeling delirious.

Time moves in slow-motion, as he turns to look towards the Maester kneeling in between your legs, declaring, “Dear lady, we’re nearly there. Just one more push!”

You arch back with a jarring scream as you make one last attempt to push – when suddenly, your screams intermingle with the high-pitch wails of your baby.

“A girl, your majesty.” The Maester announces, “From the fight that this little one put her mother through, it seems as though you’ve given birth to a warrior princess.”

The babe is cleaned up and swaddled with nothing but the softest, finest of linens before she’s handed down to Aemond – whose arms shake with a mixture of relief and happiness as he welcomes his daughter into the world.

Aemond smiles down at the chubby little angel with silvery hair and a flushed face, leaning down so that you could see your daughter.

“My darling girl…” your voice is hoarse, and you look ready to slip into an unbothered sleep for all the moons to come. Still, you smile tiredly before blessing your daughter with her name. “Elaena…”

“Our warrior princess." Aemond strokes her soft cheek, heart swooning over the sensation of skin as soft as silk. "I’ve got a feeling her arrival is a preamble of what awaits us as she grows. A feisty little lady she’ll be,” Aemond fondly murmurs, relief washing over him once he sees you calm at last.

You nod, before falling asleep once you’ve been cleansed and accommodated into clean sheets.

Aemond can finally ease, as the worst passes, and none of his biggest fears had come through. He thanks The Seven as he rocks his baby in his arms, sitting by the fire as you sleep. Praying that if the Gods have truly blessed him with a warrior of his own, that she’ll be great and fearless, always protected in her fights.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #dad!aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond targaryen blurb #reader insert #fanfiction #drabbles #my writing #ewan mitchell #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond's children

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cambion-companion · 1 year

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Saw the piggyback ask and I remembered this scene in fifty shades where Christian is carrying Ana over his shoulder and they pass one of the house employees on the way to the 'playroom'...

And now I'm thinking of Aemond doing that with his wife - not because she's drunk, she was extra bratty (on purpose) so he just slung her over his shoulder and now he's taking her to their chambers to teach her a little lesson🤭

Alicent and Criston Cole appear from around the corner just in time to catch a glimpse of Aemond entering your chambers with you over his shoulder and there's this brief moment where you make eye contact with your mother-in-law who knows full well her son is going to rail you in about two minutes...

Gods be good🤣

hahaha I absolutely adore both of these ideas guys!

Prepare for another drabble!

“You looked for Aegon where?” You closed the book you had been reading, placing it upon your knee, looking up at Aemond’s disheveled appearance.

“The brothel, The Blooming Rose, as it were.” Aemond removed his cloak, hanging it by the oaken door before turning back to where you sat. “He took me there when I was thirteen.” He hesitated. “The…madam recognized me.”

The discomfort in your husband’s voice caused you to rise to your feet, the forgotten book tumbling to the ground. “Was she indeed?”

Aemond’s violet eye looked everywhere but into your face. “She seemed pleased to see me.”

His hands clenched at his sides, you reached forward but he shied away from your touch, turning away, his posture rigid.

“I’ll be back.” You said, striding with purpose to the door, yanking it open and making your way down the corridor.

Your blood was boiling, the expression on Aemond’s face had caused your heart to clench.

“Y/N, wait!” Aemond caught your elbow, spinning you to face him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to have some words with this Madam of the Blooming Rose.” You pried yourself free of his grip, walking away from him once more.

“No, you’re not.” Aemond touched your waist as he kept pace with you, watching your fury unfold with something akin to awe. “You will not put yourself willfully in harm’s way.”

“I am harm and she is in my way.” With each step, you became angrier, the image of your husband’s fear fresh in your mind’s eye.

“Wife.” Aemond stopped you once again, his fingers locking securely around your wrist. “Charging into a brothel with the intent to cause chaos is not something I will allow you to do.”

“Allow me?” You seethed, trying to yank your hand away from his iron grasp. “Just try and stop me!”

You freed yourself, only for Aemond to grab you roughly around your waist, lifting you up and over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

You hit his back with your hands. “Let me down you ruffian!”

“I’m the ruffian?” Aemond chuckled and your attempts to get down, his hands probing mischievously against your skirts. “You’re the aspiring assassin, storming off to do gods know what with no plan or backup. Now stay still.”

You did not obey, squirming atop Aemond’s shoulder, causing him to grunt and almost lose his footing more than once as he carried you back down the empty hallway. He smacked your backside sharply after one particularly strong bout of flailing.

You gasped at the impact, stilling momentarily in your shock. “Did you just-?”

“Yes, and I will do it again if you don’t stop.”

“How dare you?”

“That’s right, direct your anger towards me instead. The better to keep you safe.”

You ceased your wiggling, hanging loosely over Aemond’s shoulder, your arms dangling down his back. With a smirk you raised a hand, bringing it down swiftly against Aemond’s backside in retribution. He started, almost dropping you. “You are a feral wildcat, Y/N!”

“What does that make you?”

“Someone who is going to fuck you thoroughly when we get back to our chambers.”

You gripped the waist of Aemond’s tunic, his long hair tickling your nose as it swayed with his movements. His words quite distracted you, sending a pool of molten need flooding your abdomen.

“No witty retort?” You could hear the smirk in Aemond’s low voice as he shifted you more securely into his arms.

“Give me a moment.” You growled. “I’m recovering.”

He laughed, a lovely genuine sound.

The two of you had almost made it undetected to your rooms, when the door at the far end of the hallway opened. Alicent, Cole and Otto strode through it, noticing you almost immediately. You lowered your head, wishing to disappear as Aemond passed them. Otto and Cole diligently strode forward, their backs to you, but Alicent turned, following her son’s progress with raised eyebrows. She made eye contact with you briefly, the flicker of a smile passing over her lips, before looking up to the back of her son’s head. “Don’t forget the welcome dinner we have for the Redwyne’s tonight, Aemond.”

“We won’t, mother.”

Aemond rounded the corner and into the privacy of your spacious warm chambers, tossing you onto the mattress of the large bed where you bounced several times before he crawled on top of you. He traced the curves of your face, his fingers trailing a path down along the contours of your neck. His expression close to reverence as he gazed down at you, a curtain of silver hair framing your face. His exploratory hand ran the length of your body, curling under your skirts and caressing your trembling thighs. He nibbled a kiss to your parted lips. “Spread your legs for me.”

#aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond drabble #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond fluff #prince aemond x reader #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #aemond fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x reader smut #prince aemond #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen drabble

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

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flowers ~ Aemond Targaryen

Pairing: dad!Aemond x fem!reader

Summary: Aemond and his children take a stroll in the gardens.

Word Count: 0.7k

Warnings: none, pure fluff

A/N: Had a request for more dad!Aemond, couldn't resist!

Requests are open 💚

Aemond had spent the early morning collecting his children and bringing them to the gardens before you rose from your shared bed. It was a special day, and he wanted to make you feel extraordinary.

As the early morning sun rose higher in the sky, Aemond and his two children paraded through the gardens, hunting for flowers.

“How do you know which flowers mother likes?” Vaelora asked, her mouth twisted, brows furrowed. Aemond chuckled at his daughter’s remark.

“I discovered early on which flowers your mother enjoys. And which suits her,” he told her, clipping a dragon’s breath from a nearby bush.

Vaegon was nearby, grabbing fistfuls of golden roses.

“I enjoy these ones,” Vaelora said, and Aemond turned to her. She held a pair of blood-blooms in her small hands. “Would mother like these?”

Aemond smiled at his daughter, his first born. Aemond did not think it was possible to love someone as fiercely as he does his little family.

“She shall love them.”

Vaelora smiled, pleased at her father’s praise.

“Kepa,” Vaelora said, “when did you start bringing mother flowers?”

Aemond smiled at the question, at his curious daughter.

“When your mother arrived in the Red Keep,” he began, “we were not meant to be betrothed.”

Vaelora’s eyes widened. She had not heard this story before, though she had always been curious. Through her lessons she had learned that most marriages were made for political purposes. But she knew this was not true with Aemond and you. She could see the love you held for each other.

“You weren’t?”

Aemond hummed, shaking his head.

“But, do you know what I did?” he asked, causing Vaelora to shake her head in return, silver curls bouncing.

“I left a flower outside her chambers, on the plate she used to break her fast, on her seat during feasts,” he said, smiling at the memory.

“What flower?” she asked.

“Dragon’s breath,” Aemond said, passing one of the red flowers to Vaelora. She held it gently in her small hands, as though it may fall apart from her touch.

He could still picture it, the smile that crept to your face, the blush that filled your cheeks as flowers found you daily. You were a clever woman, you had figured out the prince’s ruse rather quickly.

“And mother liked it?”

“Enough to marry me. Enough to bless me with you,” he said teasingly, tickling Vaelora’s stomach, and causing her to giggle.

“And Vaegon,” she corrected, causing Aemond to hum in agreement, as her younger brother came to join them with fists full of flowers.

“Shall we pick more dragon’s breath for mother as well?” Vaelora asked.

“I think that is a splendid idea,” Aemond agreed, following his children deeper into the gardens.

Your son Vaegon was barely visible behind the bouquet of flowers he held in his small arms. A laugh escaped your lips.

Aemond crouched next to him, ushering him forward. Your son approached you and you knelt, pushing through the flowers until meeting his violet eyes.

“Happy nameday mother,” he said cheerfully, presenting the bouquet.

“We picked them ourselves!” Vaelora said, a proud smile on her lovely face. You took the flowers from him, taking care to press your nose into the colorful flowers, inhaling the sweet scent.

“How very sweet, my little dragons,” you crooned, taking both children into your arms for a hug. You smiled at Aemond as he leaned against the doorway to your shared chambers.

“And we have set up a picnic in the gardens to break our fast!” Vaegon said, excitedly.

“What a lovely idea,” you tell him, stroking his silver head. You stand up, taking the bouquet with you, finding an empty vase on the table. You place the flowers inside and begin to arrange them.

“Kepa says we can see Vhagar later as well, and fly across the bay!” Vaelora says, coming to your side.

“I cannot think of a more perfect day!” you tell her, taking her hand in yours as she pulls you towards the door.

“Come, come see!” Vaelora demands, clasping Aemond’s hand in her free one, dragging both parents from the room. Vaegon trails behind, and Aemond scoops him up with his free arm.

Vaelora leads you back o the gardens, where a blanket has been laid out for you to break your fast. As you sit down on the blanket Vaelora notices a dragon’s breath flower laying atop your plate, the bright red petals striking against the white plate.

You pick up the flower, a dark rouge spreading across your cheeks as you glance at your husband. Aemond’s smile is soft.

“Biare brōzi tubis issa jorrāelagon,” he murmurs, lacing his hand in yours (Happy name day, my love). The look he gives you is one of adoration.

Vaelora smiles. Though she is just beginning to grasp her mother tongue, she understands what her father means.

#dad!aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #aemond drabble #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond fluff

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luxbub · 4 months

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munch!aemond targaryen

minors DNI +18

a/n this isn’t really that much of a munch fic but i didn’t know what else to name it

munch!aemond who you couldn’t separate from the heaven between your thighs

munch!aemond who makes your back arch the second his mouth is on you

munch!aemond who doesn’t give a shit about the desperate whines that trumble out of your lips, as long as you keep grinding your cunt against his face in that delicious way you are doing right now

munch!aemond who takes his time sucking your throbbing clit into his mouth, causing the pleasure of your first orgasm to roll through you

munch!aemond who doesn’t relent and locks his arms around your thighs, pulling your spasming pussy closer to his face and pinning you in your position after you tried to squirmed away from too much overstimulation

munch!aemond who is groaning and moaning from the delicious taste of your wet pussy on his tongue

munch!aemond who had to pause his lapping at your cunt just to grasp out “one more, love” and get back to his work on your cunt

And of course your body does what it’s master says.

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aemvnd · 18 days

Text

𝒶.targaryen. ┆ violent roses.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ a lil dark!modern aemond . <3 i missed him. !!!

"touch me softly, daddy," you mewl coyly, your voice meek and feminine, feeling the calloused fingertips of your lover trailing gently across your nude skin, making your flawless complexion erupt into goosebumps, causing you to shiver lightly.

"oh?" he questions, using his free hand to casually place the lit cigarette between two smooth, light pink lips, a puff of gray smoke swirling in the air above your heads.

"you don't want me to touch you... violently?" he purrs, his one faux-eye sparkling in the moonlight, making your little exposed cunny ache, dripping wet and glossy, your arousal fragrant in his room and smelling of freshly picked roses, and something even sweeter—you.

you freeze, breath hitching and heart thumping wildly in your chest—thump, thump, thumping until you cannot take it anymore.

"please... p-please, touch me, aemond," you beg so prettily, making aemond give you a lazy smirk around his burning cigarette—another puff, and then he is casually putting the cigarette out into the marble ashtray next to his bed.

it was silent for a moment, he didn’t speak, so neither did you, only your quick, almost erratic breathing could be heard, before a low, barely audible hum came from aemond, his attention focused solely on you now—ravenous and lustful.

"be a good girl for me and i just might."

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lcverwrites · 1 year

Text

aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader (daemon's daughter) drabble

note: am I playing into the over popular trope of making reader daemon's daughter: yes, I am. am I sorry about it: no I am not.

"No one could love a cripple" Aemond sulked, placing his hands below his chest, feeling the subtle rise and fall of each breath he took.

His alabaster skin was still tickled pink with splatters of blood, the thick oozing had subsided after the Maester had stitched the clean slice across his flawless skin. The stitching zig-zagged across his skin, protruding in places and sinking in others. The dark black thread starkly standing out against the pale hue of his skin. Starting from his temple, coursing down the right side of his face, right over his once violet eye, down to the middle of his cheek.

Right over his once violet eye.

It wasn't something to gloss over, Lucerys had slashed Aemond right across his eye, taking the damn eye with it. There was nothing left behind to salvage, so the Maester had said, he was lucky the blade did not go any deeper.

She shuddered at the thought, loosing an eye was a terrible misfortune, but she would be forever grateful that Aemond was strong enough to survive it.

"I won't listen to you speak so terribly about yourself" She retorted, seating herself on the edge of Aemond's bed, placing her hands gently in her lap.

"'Tis nothing but the truth" Aemond hummed lowly, his single eye stared blankly at the ceiling.

Whatever thoughts that carried their way through his mind, she was not privy to them. She bit her tongue, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him, her Aemond.

The boy she knew, the one who lurked beneath the scared surface, who hid behind his brooding and melancholy thoughts, the boy who couldn't keep a single thought from her, the one person in the world who was nothing but truthful with her.

But now, it was as if she were talking with a stranger. Someone she no longer knew, he was guarded in a way that was strange to her, she wasn't able to see past the solid walls he was starting to build.

"No, it is not true, I won't let you believe that is the truth" She was firm in her words, no stuttering to be found, though she felt as if her heart was about to leap from her chest, nervousness tickling her skin.

"How can you prove something that is so plainly shown" Aemond's voice lowered, sounding as if he was on the verge of bursting into tears, but holding himself back from further humilation.

There was nothing to be ashamed of, not with her.

"You forget yourself, my prince" She replied simply.

"There isn't a woman in the seven kingdoms who would take a second glance at a boy with a scar as hideous as mine own" Aemond finally looked at her.

Her breath caught in the back of her throat, stilling her heart for a mere moment. For the first time since the prince had returned to King's Landing, he showered her with his unbridled emotions. There were so many things swirling around in those violet hues, so many emotions.

She could hear the bitterness pouring from his words, sticking to every syllable that passed his lips. She could see the hatred shading his eyes, stormy and crackling. Like lighting striking the earth beneath her feet, like embers of a flame licking at her skin, it was a searing sort of hatred.

But there was fear, a coldness lingering in the deep hue of his eye, like he was fighting off the sharp, howling winter winds from the North. A frigidness in the way his shoulders sat, straighter, almost vexing, preparing for the foulness he was handed by those whom were supposed to care.

"You lay claim to the largest dragon in all history" She reasoned gently, her stare never faulting from his gaze, despite the intensity of it. "Vhagar wouldn't allow anyone to claim her, less they be anything but extraordinary"

She wanted him to know, she wasn't afraid of his maimed appearance.

"Means nothing" Aemond denied, clenching his hands in tight fists.

"I hardly believe that Aemond" It was her turn to scoff. "You are the son of the King, Prince Aemond, first of his name--"

"And what!" Aemond exclaimed, sounding angry, finally letting something slip past the sturdy walls. "I'm supposed to be okay with my future lady wife only loving me for riding the largest dragon, or for being the son of the king"

"Perhaps, my prince, you should allow me to finish" She didn't allow his raised voice scare her, she straightened her back, looking at the prince with a fierceness that faltered him. + "I mean, those things are only a fraction who you are, you are wise beyond your years, far better with a sword than most of the knights in King's landing, and you are a mere boy, imagine what you shall be like, a man of extraordinary talents, you shouldn't allow a silly little scar--

"'Silly little scar' you think this deformity is merely a simple little scar?!" Aemond cut off the Princess against, sounding aghast at the thought of his wound being compared to a silly little scar.

"Lest you forget my Prince, I am still a Princess, I'd take back the tone of your words"

She wasn't going to let Aemond walk all over her, just because his melancholy thoughts were eating him alive, didn't mean he had the right to treat those who care for him, as if they were dirt beneath his boots.

He was welcome to be upset about the wound, she'd find him odd if he didn't grieve the loss of his own eye, but he was allowing his grief and anger over take him.

Blinding him to what he may become.

"This scar has taken my eye from me, and any chance of living anywhere close to the realm of normalcy" Aemond disregarded her praise, turning his gaze from her face to the tight fists his hands had knowingly formed.

"We Targaryen's are beyond the realm of normalcy" The Princess denied once more, tilting her head a fraction, as she watched a subtle pink hue painted Aemond's pale skin. "We are gods among men, lest you forget"

"No god has a scar like this" Aemond sounded defeated now, tired, depleted of energy to try and fight back.

"Only those blessed by the old gods and the new" She felt herself smile a little as she watched Aemond's eyes slowly trail along the length of his bed, finding her still perched on the edge of the bed. "Those they deme worthy, survive with a mere scar to prove their strength"

Aemond remained silent at her words, but the icy glare had subdued in his violet eyes, gaining a millimetre of warmth.

For a moment, she could see her Aemond, slipping past the façade he was creating.

"There are still people in this very castle, whom love you, scar and all" She replied easily, knowing it to be true.

"My family are the least of my worries" Aemond brushed off with a simple shake of his head, wincing a little as the action tugged at the puckered skin of his face. "They are stuck with me"

"Perhaps" The Princess' voice carried a gentle tone, sounding just above a whisper.

She reached a soft hand to grasp Aemond's closed fist, making the prince jump, breath catching in the back of his throat. She made no moves to remove her hands from his, keeping a barely there touch on his hands.

"I however" She paused her words, and for the first time, she had trouble keeping her gazed locked on Aemond's, feeling heat pinching at her cheeks. "Can choose where I shall reside, and there is no place I would rather be, than by your side"

"Please don't grant pity on me" Aemond whispered, looking deep within her violet eyes, trying to find an inkling of deceit, only to come up empty handed, and feeling his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.

"Never pity, not with you, my Aemond" Her smile was warm, like the feeling of being welcomed home, of the warm summer sun tickling his skin, of being loved wholeheartedly without restraint.

She pressed her palm firmly against his fist, opening the tight hold he had. His resolve melted like butter beneath her palm, hand falling open without fight, without complaint, willing and able. Just hearing her call him, her Aemond, there was not a more thrilling feeling.

"My heart, will always belong to you"

She could feel her own heart beating beneath her skin, rapid and heavy, jumping and leaping. The confession felt light on her lips, like breathing in the freshest spring air.

"And my scar. . ." Aemond was timid in tone, but his hand moulded around the Princess', holding it gently.

"It has never wavered, and it never shall"

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen blurb #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond imagine #hotd aemond #aemond x targaryen!reader #house of the dragon drabble #house of the dragon imagine #hotd drabble #hotd imagine

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ransprang · 6 months

Text

thank you @qlassicc for supporting our kofi <3 here is your second boi 👁️

if anyone else wants personalised hcs this is our ko-fi

House of the dragon - Aemond Targaryen - SFW HCs

He has only one eye, and it would always be fixed on you <3

Aemond would be equally possessive as you, if his brother or any of the “Strong boys” so much as glanced at you, their eye isn't the only thing he would take.

He is quiet, afraid to show his emotions. Anything that feels like weakness will avoid it, such as being vulnerable and expressing his love for you.

He would take the relationship slowly, always being a gentleman kissing the back of your hand to greet you with respect.

Aemond loves all 100 of your personalities and stands like a pillar of support through your emotional ones. He is the constant in your life, as you change to fit the needs of others. With him, you can be anyone you want, yourself perhaps.

Your love and care would make Aemond thrive. Growing up neglected by his family in a troubled home, you would be his savior.

Aemond is a stoic individual but around you he melts, when you show him that you are there for him and excited to be around him. He enjoys your clinginess with a soft smile that spans across his face to appreciate you.

Being a family-oriented man would never cheat on you. He has seen through his brother what comes of wanton lechery, and would take no part in that.

Aemond is a careful man, who is attentive to your needs just like you are to his. He notices that you do not like getting ignored, he will try his best to be there for you even if its the small gestures like the quirk of his lips in a room full of people.He would never cheat on you.

You guys would share quiet evenings together, riding Vhagar into the night sky, as you pointed out the constellations.

3 of your 100 personalities,

admins sav, san & sar

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aemnds · 11 months

Text

─ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

❛ ♡. gif credit.

★ ── modern!aemond comes home early to surprise his little wife.

◜ ♡ ⃗ ⎯⎯ [3:41 pm — aemond targaryen]

she had just finished cutting the strawberry, crème sandwiches into diagonal slices as the front door opened— revealing her beloved husband, aemond targaryen.

smiling, she hurried over to him, helping him remove his long, leather jacket, before bending down to untie and remove his black, combat boots.

once she placed both things neatly away, she returned to her patiently waiting husband and reached up on the tips of her bare, pedicured toes—which were painted pale, baby pink—and kissed his soft, pillowy lips -- humming at the minty flavor he always seemed to taste of.

“hello, my love,” she greeted him softly, after pulling away from him to continue preparing his lunch. she hummed softly as she worked, grabbing a handful of salted almonds and placing them into a tiny container for later to snack on.

aemond hummed, walking up behind her and wrapping his long, lean arms around her— pulling her back slightly so that she was snuggly pressed back against his hard, front torso— making her smile with happiness.

“my love, i need to finish preparing your lunch,” she says with a light giggle, feeling him bend down and press multiple kisses along the sides of her neck and collarbones, where he knew she was most sensitive.

“i’ve missed you,” he murmured, nearly whining as he lightly scraped his teeth against her thumping pulse point, before beginning to suck on her earlobe, humming in content at the delicious taste of her soft, silky skin.

she made a giggling sound, trying to pull away as she finished cutting a few slices of apple—without the skins—just as aemond preferred, before turning around to face him.

he towered over her, a small smirk on his lips as he bent his knees down to press his lips to hers, wrapping his strong arms around her waist tightly— possessively.

“hm.. my pretty, little wife— you are truly perfection,” he says lowly, before pressing his lips back against hers, moaning at the sweet, honeyed taste of her -- his tongue slipping inside of her warm, wet mouth.

“gods,” aemond groaned into the kiss, hearing her whimper and try to kiss him back with the same intensity as he was kissing her. “i am so lucky to have you— my sweet girl, my only love,” he tells her, his voice boarding on obsessive.

“i love you, i love you, i love you— you’re mine, all fucking mine… say it,” he demands, voice deep and nearly begging—gods, if aegon ever found out that he spoke to his wife this way, he’d call him a fucking simp and never hear the end of it.

she giggles femininely, flashing him a pretty, lovesick smile as she was so used to her husband’s possessive behavior over her, “i love you, aemond— i am yours,” she purrs, fluttering her eyelashes up at him innocently -- like a sweet, little virgin.

aemond smirked, leaning around her and swiping a long finger behind her into the homemade whipped cream she had made, pulling it back and sucking the sweetness into his watering mouth, a soft hum escaping him— tasting the sweet aroma of vanilla extract.

“delicious,” he purred, smirking down at her -- before he swiped another finger into the whipped cream, holding out his long, calloused finger near her plush, pink lips to give her a taste.

she gave him a look of surprise, raising an eyebrow at his teasing grin as she wrapped her lips around his finger, sucking the whipped cream off of his digit with a soft, breathy moan.

“and to think… you’ve made my favorite strawberry sandwiches too,” he says conversationally, his voice deep and husky as he looked down at her with a dilated, amethyst eye -- which was burning with desire.

“i have an idea,” aemond announces suddenly, watching his wife hungrily suck on his index finger, his eye darkening with lust.

aemond suddenly pulled his finger away, running the long, calloused fingers of his right hand over his wife’s exposed shoulder as he pressed her back more firmly against the large, kitchen countertop that he had built for her out of marble.

she gave him a curious look, doe eyes blinking up at him innocently and pink lips slightly parted in question. “yes, my love?” she asks him sweetly, her voice high-pitched and as sweet as the whipped cream she had made just for him.

aemond let out a soft sigh, letting his calloused fingertips brush down and over the thin, pink tank-top, admiring the little white flowers decorating the thin material that covered her perky breasts— her nipples hardening as he moved down closer and closer -- before tweaking a nipple between his long, deft fingertips.

he heard her gasp softly, her back arching into him and her heavy eyelids fluttering with lust, her cunt becoming more and more wet the more time he paid attention to her.

…he drove her absolutely wild.

aemond hummed lowly, giving a nod, “how about we put this delicious lunch away for later that you’ve made for me… oh, so lovingly— and how about i eat you instead, hm?” he murmured softly, though there was a hint of darkness to his voice as he began to grind his hardening cock into her lower belly, making her whimper pathetically for him.

she gasped softly, doe eyes wide and blinking repeatedly, before nodding eagerly in agreement, already starting to put the lunch away for later consumption for when they were both hungry after their… activities.

aemond happily trailed after his little wife, watching as she placed the food away neatly in the refrigerator -- the front of his hard, clothed torso pressed firmly against her back.

he started pressing ravenous kisses down the right side of her delicate neck once again— enjoying the sight of the purple blemishes he’d made last night -- while sucking and biting the smooth skin as if his wife was a sweet, forbidden fruit made specifically for him.

she knew how aemond could get -- her husband could become nearly frenzied— practically a beast when it came to her, and it seemed she was in for a long afternoon of orgasm after orgasm, as he whispered hotly that he wished for nothing more than to feast on her sweet, little cunt.

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elliewlums · 1 year

Note

prompt: “i can’t breathe” with aemond!

“you’re trembling,” he whispers. an observation laced with worry. you press your forehead to his back and inhale a strained breath. he stands between you and them; your mother, angry. your father, livid. they want you to return home to marry the lannister boy despite your obvious attachment to the king’s second son. aemond won’t stand for it, not when it’s so obvious that you’re vehemently resisting.

“i can’t breathe.” aemond steps backwards further, until your entire body presses against his; his hand snakes around to hold you steadfastly to his back. “don’t let them take me.”

“never, dove,” he murmurs. “i have you.”

when another ragged exhale escapes you, he turns. your expression is nothing short of distraught, tear tracks marking your pretty face and a shaking bottom lip. he shushes, lips pursed, as you’re pulled into his comforting embrace. your hands tangle in his tunic; he’s surprised such a strength can come from somebody so small in comparison to his own great stature.

“i have you,” he repeats. he holds you delicately, as though you’re crafted from porcelain. “my dearest, i won’t let them take you.” he presses his lips to your forehead, taking his time to soothe you as though they’re not there. he’s warm to your cold, strong to your weak.

“please,” you whimper. his hand is firm on your jaw. “aemond, please.”

lips on your cheekbone. your temple. your neck. silken hair surrounding the pair of you like a veil. “i don’t wish to marry somebody that is not you.”

“and you won’t.” his voice husks. smooth like butter. “we shall marry on the morrow if you so desire. anything to make my lady happy.” your quivering hand travels up to thumb at his lips. it traverses his features, the sharp slant of his nose and jaw, the curvature of his chin, the jagged scar that disappears beneath his eyepatch. doe eyes gaze at him in a concoction of both apprehension and affection.

“sweet girl,” he murmurs, clasps your hand in his larger one. “now stay behind me, dove.”

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cambion-companion · 10 months

Note

Rainy night...tender sex with Aemond? ☺️

Good lord it's been a whiiiiile hahaha hi guys! thought I'd stretch ye olde Aemond fanfic muscles.

Buckle up!

Aemond x fem!reader | drabble | smut | 18+ only!

"Aemond."

His name tasted like honey on your lips.

Your fingers stretched to reach him, unable to touch his silken hair that glowed in the dim firelight. You gasped, arching your back, feeling the soft bedsheets caressing your bare skin. The press of his warm mouth against your aching womanhood caused your eyes to roll back in your head as you momentarily lost yourself to the pleasure he brought you.

"My ember." He whispered back to you, his lips brushing sweetly across your heat before he took your clit gently into his mouth.

You whimpered and whined, the noises you made only urging him to delve deeper and explore every inch of you. He could tell you were close to your release, your trembling legs attempting to close tightly around his head. Aemond growled low against you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he forced them back apart, pressing you into further into the bed.

When it all seemed almost too much and your vision became flooded with stars, just on the precipice of coming undone on his tongue, Aemond withdrew from you.

"Bastard." You cursed at him breathlessly, your knees coming rising as he crawled over you.

"Brave words for a woman in your position." Aemond spoke softly, his chin shining with your juices as he leaned down to whisper against your ear. His lilac eye glinted as he drank in your wanton features. "So beautiful." He kissed your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. "Mine to claim."

Your legs rose as Aemond's hand's guided them higher so he could see you spread before him. His body began to press into yours with heavy desire, his lips parting as he looked down at you so vulnerable beneath him.

The tell-tale pitter patter of rain beginning to hit the tiled roof of your lofty room within the Red Keep alerted you to a storm brewing outside. The gossamer curtains framing the arched windows fluttering in a warm breeze.

The silver hair of your lover stirred against his milky skin and the fireplace shot sparks into the air. With an unfettered groan of pleasure Aemond sunk himself fully into your dripping heat. Your neck arched as you felt him fill you, stretching you to your limits and hitting the very center of your desire. You felt him twitch within you, already so close to release by just the feeling of your body surrounding him in the most intimate of acts.

You called his name sweetly in the way only you could. "Aemond."

The rain began falling in earnest outside. Your ears filling with the sound of the drumming it created mixing with the deliciously wet noises filling the bedchamber as Aemond began moving, slow at first but building speed as he lost himself in you.

You clung to his forearms as he leaned down to press another kiss to your panting mouth, his tongue dipping inside to stroke against yours in tandem with his thrusts.

The creaking of the bed added its own harmony to the sounds of the night, this night when Aemond finally made his claim to you. Made you his. You called his name in ecstasy and he followed you over the precipice, falling against you and into your arms as he spent himself within your clenching walls.

His hand found your face, his hips rocking against you still, savoring the friction as you rode out your high together. The pounding rain filled the air with the scent of wet earth and ozone. Thunder rumbled somewhere in distance. Or perhaps it was only the roar of a far-off dragon.

"Good girl." Aemond purred against your neck, his hand stroking your hair with the tenderness he only showed you.

You turned your face into him, kissing him gently. "I love you."

"As I, you." Aemond cupped the back of your neck, pulling you tighter against him, kissing you as though he were a man drowning and needed your air.

The storm roared outside but within this room you were safe, in the arms of the man you loved. One of the most dangerous men in Westeros, the "Kinslayer", but to you he was your heart, your home, your dragon.

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

Note

I know you are busy with other requests, so just a thought: Modern! Aemond having his way with you in the library & telling you to stay quiet, his elegant fingers sliding in your underwear.... (ok bye i'm out)

(Sorry for taking so long to reply but I was so torn between making this a full-on fic or what but I'm just gonna let this flow to whatever length it takes lol!) NSFW DRABBLE AHEAD: semi-public sex, low-key exhibitionist kink, almost getting caught, vaginal fingering.

Only Aemond and you remain in the library. Everyone fled as soon as the rain started to hit. You had insisted to Aemond that you could follow their lead, return to your dorms, indulge for the rest of the evening; order takeout, and skip homework to watch a movie.

Of course, you should've known Aemond would be adamant about staying here until his work was done. Come rain or shine, he stayed faithful to his responsibilities. And he was even thrilled to have the library all to himself. Free to roam around alone, through the endless, labyrinthian halls.

A little too thrilled, lost in the printed words and his own scribblings in his notebook. Meanwhile, you're lost in him.

Deft fingers quickly making notes. A pencil in between his teeth, and a furrowed brow in concentration. Fingertips grazing the spines of each book, as tenderly as he does the curves of your body. Why is he so perfect? How come every inch of his is elegant?

When he starts humming to himself - reading a line from a book as he annotates - that's when you lose it. Something about that deep timbre of his makes you drip down your legs; your gaze focuses on his beautifully curved lips and you can't help but bite your own to keep your moans from spilling out into the vast silence of the library.

You're so caught up in imagining the places you want to feel those lips that suddenly you're backed against a stack of books, legs immediately hiked up on Aemond's narrow waist as he cages you against him with a wicked smirk, growling right into your ear.

"What are you doing, hmmm? we're supposed to be studying."

He nips and kisses the side of your neck, and licks the spot beneath your ear; his tongue trails through the path of every little fine hair rising on your body as he touches you, as grinds his hard bulge against you.

"Aemond, please..." you whine, holding onto his shoulders to grip the fabric of his shirt.

"If we get a bad grade on this assignment we won't be going on the school trip. Is that what you want?"

He hoists you up with one hand while the other strokes your curves, inches beneath your clothes; agile fingers undo the button and zipper of your jeans and slip inside your panties. He lowly chuckles at how drenched you are already, making it so, so simple for him to just slide right in with one finger first until he's knuckle deep.

You moan at the sensation of his finger curling inside, pumping more slick with each movement, stretching you out with two fingers.

"Hmm? Is that what you want?"

His movements start deliberate and slow, and the longer you go without replying, the faster he finger-fucks you.

You're seeing stars as he adds a third, making you mewl and cry as you hold onto his shoulders for support.

"Be quiet."

He's so fucking mean. Didn't he want an answer? your mind cannot form coherent replies, cannot discern between his teasing. Can't concentrate on anything else other than the slippery slide of his fingers inside of you.

He's so fucking mean because he tells you to be quiet, yet his fingers move with a speed that produces the lewdest, slick sounds from your dripping cunt. Every little sound seems augmented within the confines of the library. You can't contain the intensity of the moment within you, moans and sighs just spill right out of their own accord.

You bury a long, drawn-out whine in the side of his neck as he presses his thumb to your clit, speeding up the thrusts of his fingers; spiraling energy is building and building inside of you, making you claw at his clothes, at the nape of his neck...anything to canalize your energy so you won't scream.

The static within is about to break and you're ready to let go.

Right as you hear the steps of the librarian rounding up the corner.

"Shh, sh, sh, be quiet..." Aemond grunts.

The librarian halts in her step.

Seems to linger, taking cautious steps in your direction.

The fucking wet sounds from your sopping pussy were definitely hard to miss.

She gets closer and closer.

Your bodies are frozen...

Until the steps draw far again, and you visibly relax your hold, nearly making you fall.

He catches you just in time, both of you in a fit of giggles and snorts after being caught.

And then your laughter transforms into a moan as Aemond slips right in again.

#aemond targaryen #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen blurb #aemond targaryen drabble #drabbles #fanfiction #my writing #reader insert #hotd #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell

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gtgbabie0 · 1 year

Text

My precious boy

{Aemond learns to love his son the hard way}

You can read part 1 here!💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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