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artemiscrocksgf · 10 months

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you vex me II (aemond targaryen x fem!reader)

this is part two, you can read the first one here or it can be read as a standalone but i recommend reading the first

pairing: aemond targaryen x velaryon fem!reader

warning: angst , pining, angst to smut, enemies to lovers ?? , incest (uncle/niece) it's hotd duh. explicit, minors dni 18+, NSWF

word count: 2.9K

high valyrian words are translated

The sky is fragile, the sun above the tumultuous cloud tops the only brightness that shines through. “Lykiri!” [calm] you command in high valyrian, the bellows of your dragon’s roar echoing through the dragonpit grounds. Like your mother and previous ancestors, you were trained to ride dragon back at the age of six, gifted with a hatchling from the pits of Dragonstone. Ysera your dragon, her wings emerald green like the precious stone she was named after, and her claws and crest scales bright as pearlescent jade. Ysera’s deep green scales glistened from the light mist that fell from the clouds. “Lykiri Ysera,” the dragon’s leathery wings sprawled open as you stroke her neck, while the dragon keepers prepare her saddle.

“Princess, the weather has turned – you should ride on the morrow” the dragon keeper Elder advised, his hand clutching the shackles that tied around Ysera’s neck. You glance up at the sky hinted with silver black clouds that were gathering over Kings Landing.

“On the contrary, it is perfect weather,” you insisted, taking a deep breath through your nose as you let the scent of the sea and the rain fill your nostrils. “It is only a little rainfall and the misty dew that melts into my skin – it is truly an experience like no other Elder,” you marveled.

“I could not agree more,” a voice sharp as glass replies from behind you.

You could recognize that voice anywhere, “Why did you not warn me Ysera?” you whispered to your dragon before turning to see the Prince behind you. Aemond was dressed in his usual black attire, his hands adorned with leather gloves – the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk as he notices you eyeing him from head to toe. Neither one of you has discussed the kiss that happened last week — it would be lying to say your mind did not wander to that moment in the wee hours of the night. Your body shudders.

You clear your throat, “Is vexing me at the Keep not enough? You must now follow me around Kings Landing?” you jest, adjusting your black and red cladded riding armor.

“Do not flatter yourself dear niece” Aemond’s shoulders bounce with a huff, as he lifts his hand to signal the dragon keepers to bring out Vhagar. “Perhaps Elder is right, you should not fly your … quaint dragon through this weather – much like her rider she is fragile,” he sneers. Ysera rumbles almost as if she understood his insults, you glare at him giving him the reaction he craved. You loathe admitting that you enjoyed the odd relationship you had with the Prince, built off hating one another. The hatred offered opportunities for blistering eye contact and tension that could be cut with his dagger. And despite the rage, he makes you feel you cannot help but think of him every second he is not with you. It infuriated you.

“Remind me, Prince, what was the name of your first… dragon?” you taunted while mounting Ysera. “Pink… Ah, pink dread! Much like its rider, it is a pig,” you snicker. You catch a glimpse of the anger in Aemond’s eye before you commanded Ysera to soar, “Sōvēs,”. You grin smugly at the Prince before Ysera ascends into the clouds, prowling the skies in ever-widening circles. Fanned by the strong winds your unbound hair cascades with the breeze. Green crests flashed along Ysera’s back as her silver-green wings beat against the gray sky. The beating of her wings flew through the veil of clouds, the raindrops dampening you as she soars above the cloud tops to the hidden sun. The beauty that lived beyond the clouds was endless. You gently close your eyes as Ysera glides gracefully through the open sky, when her thundering roar breaks your peace, “Skoros iksos ziry issa hāedar” [What is it, my girl?].

Vhagar’s wings erupt from behind the clouds, her bellows booming in the vast sky, and on her back the one-eyed Prince hoisting her saddle reins. “Thank you for warning me,” you say to Ysera, petting the top of her head as she ascends further up. Soaring like eagles, stooping like hawks, they circled each other – creating a choreograph of intertwining wings. Vhagar vanished into a bank of clouds, only to reappear an instant later. In awe, you watch Aemond’s long hair streaming silver behind him as he circles above the clouds. Fuck. He is insufferable. Yet everything about him was intoxicating.

“Naejot” [forward] you ordered, Ysera launching herself up towards Aemond, her wings buffeting the air as she flew around the large dragon. The dark clouds began to rain, the drops hitting your face and dampening your hair. You close your eyes letting the rainfall take you. Aemond watched you as you rode through the clouds, the mist bathing you in a wet sheen. Aemond’s breath was sucked right out of him – he wasn’t self-delusional to mistake the tightening of his muscles as anything other than desire. Seven Hells. He detests you. And yet he found himself unable to keep his lengths from you.

The torrent winds begin to pick up, the storm clouds rolling over the skies. The light mist was now a heavy downpour making it almost impossible to see ahead. “Princess?” you hear a shout in the sunless bank of clouds. He yells again, you notice a hint of concern in his voice.

Ysera roars as cracks of lightning surround you, “Lykiri, LYKIRI,”

“It is time we descend,” his voice getting drained from the deafening thunder. A nervousness lingers underneath his outward demeanor. A sudden bolt of lightning shattered the veil of black. His gaze locked on yours.

“Scared Aemond?”

“Jest all you want, but the cloudburst is coming and we need to take cover,” Aemond instructs, his hair completely drenched. “We are too far to make it back to the pit in time but we can make way to River Gate and wait out the clouds,”.

“I do not take orders from you,” scoffing, the rumbles of the thunder echo through your ears – the storm beginning to rage. Although you would never admit it aloud, Aemond was right.

“God! Must you be so fucking stubborn?” his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. You stifle your laugh at his annoyance. You enjoy enraging him.

“If we must,” you reply. Ysera’s iridescent scales glisten in the darkened and ominous sky, you tail Vhagar as the dragons make a descent to land, the rain whipping down like crystal nails. Your hair slicked from the rain, strands stuck on your face as you dismount off Ysera, “Umbās'' [wait]. The rain has lost the ambient temperature of early fall, freezing and paling your skin on contact. You look up at the molten silver sky, the dark swirls covering every inch of the sky casting a dark shadow. Aemond silently walks towards an isolated barn on the outskirts of the trees that line River Gate. You follow.

The barn is empty, and the musk of hay and pine devours your nostrils as soon as you step under the shelter. The rain continues to pour, the drops hitting the oak creating a drumming against the roof – So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. Aemond has still not spoken a word to you since landing. Which made the confinement even worse, you would much rather have him hurl snide remarks at you than complete quietness. He sat silently not acknowledging you as he fidgeted with his dagger. You pace back and forth, unable to stand still as you wait for the rain to cease.

“Would you stop your incessant walking,” Aemond says nonchalantly, his eye not meeting yours. His dagger danced between his slender fingers.

“Oh he finally talks... I thought you were half blind and going mute”

“This rain will not pass any time soon and I do not want to be here anymore than you do” his voice low. You drove Aemond crazy in more ways than one, being stuck in this barn with you was a nightmare – not only because you infuriate him like no other but because he could not keep pretending he did not desire you. Crave you.

Ever since that goddamn kiss.

You exhale through your nose as you take off your leather gloves, planting yourself on a hay barrow. You take your leather boots off, the sound of the material squelching.

“What are you doing?” his voice raises as he cocks his head at you.

“I would much prefer not dying from cold fever,” you remark, wringing out your drenched hair. “Although it does sound better than being here…” you mumble under your breath. You assumed Aemond heard you when you saw his head shake, the corners of his mouth quirking into a small smile. You lower your eyes as Aemond stands up, turning his slender back to you as he unbuttons his black outer coat. It was improper of you to stare as his soaked cotton undershirt clung to his wet body – outlining his lean shoulders perfectly.

Seven Hells.

You clear your throat as you feel a warm heat gathering in your cheeks, you unbutton your armored gown – your drenched undergown beginning to make you itch. Your hands reach around to the clasp by the nape of your neck. You mentally cuss your handmaidens as your fingers struggle to unclasp the button on your own. Your body jolts and his warm fingers slide down the back of your neck to the tender skin – unbuttoning your gown. “Here,” his raspy voice whispers into your ear as the gown drops to the ground.

“I did not need your assistance,” you say but your words end up breathy and weak. You turn to face him. He was close to you, you could feel the heat of his body and smell the dragon scent of him. It sent a trickle of shivers straight through you. You wholeheartedly disliked the Prince and yet you had the most absurd inclination to lean forward until the space between your bodies was squeezed into nothingness.

His eye lowers down to your mouth, that mouth that vexes him to no end with an endless stream of insults and snide comments. Despite all that, all he could think about were your lips on his. “Is that so?”

He lifts his hands brushing your wet hair away from your face, his fingers lingering by your cheek. The heat of his body seeped through your thin gown, he was so close you couldn’t tell where his breath ended and yours began. Aemond was going to stop right there and leave you bothered and breathless, to teach you a lesson but when there was barely an inch between your bodies, the pull grew too strong. Your breath quickens, your mind telling you to pull away but your body says otherwise.

“Mmhmm,” is all you could manage to say, his fingertips trailing along your cheek – torturing you. Suddenly his hands cupped the back of your head as his lips took yours in an explosion of desire and hatred. You moan against his mouth, taking advantage of your parted lips, Aemond slides his tongue between them. His hands still cupping the back of your head, he grabs a fistful of your damp hair pulling it back. Your head tilts back, exposing your neck – his eye darkens as his lips leave yours to taste the slightly salty skin of your neck.

Aemond pulls your hair a little harder, “You should learn to bite that tongue of yours…” His free hand grips your breast through the fabric. The pads of his fingertips rolling over your nipple. You suck in a shaky breath when he catches the bud between his forefinger and thumb, tweaking it sharply. Aemond releases your hair, the pressure of his grip still lingering. You could feel his stiff cock pressed against your body.

“Only when you learn to bite yours,” you tease, sliding your hand down his wet undershirt and over his trousers to palm at his cock. A sweet groan escapes his lips when you softly squeeze him. He abruptly stops your hand, lowering your back onto the damp ground. This moment could be stretched and savored, but when were things with Aemond ever savory. His hands tugged the rope on the thin fabric that covered your body with enough force to nearly tear the gown. Aemond grapples at his shirt, pulling the wet fabric over his head. Your core is already searing with heat as he lets his eye caress your exposed body, something so simple but so seductive. The gaze was heavy with lust. God. You want to feel him. Taste him. Fuck him.

Aemond lowers himself between your legs, his tongue darts over his lower lip hungrily. He pushes your thighs apart, gripping them down firmly – his other hand trailing above your center. “Still do not need my assistance, my love?” he murmurs. He smirks seeing the wetness of your core. You curse when you feel his thumb and forefinger softly part your soaking folds, circling your clit and down to rub your dripping entrance. They gently tease your clit, smearing your wetness around but not enough to give you the desire you crave. You bite back a groan as your hips grind into his fingers. You tense as the tips of his fingers press at your entrance, his slender digits slipping in all the way. He drew them back out, slick with your wetness – a roguish grin across his face as he thrust them back in, easing into a steady pace that makes everything ache with desire.

His hand dipped further into your cunt, sending a sharp edge of ecstasy through your core and down your spine. Aemond presses two fingers into your entrance, your walls clenching around his fingers as he thrusts roughly into your wet folds. Your body seizes up tight when all of a sudden he abruptly removes his hand from your soaking cunt. Leaving you on the edge of burning waves, a needy moan tears almost painfully from you.

“Tell me you need me,” he commands. Fucking Bastard. “Say it,” his fingers return to your throbbing core teasing the folds of your swollen lips but not enough to satisfy you. Fuck he’s going to be the death of you. Aemond’s fingers teased your clit, making you breathless as you begged. He knew even if you had not said it that the desire was mutual.

“Please Aemond,” you whine desperately, with a pleased grin, Aemond jolts his fingers back into you. His fingers curling into your cunt, nerves rubbed raw and still throbbing – deep inside your core, his finger brushes against the rough spot of nerves against your walls. Tilting his fingers into your cunt faster, you feel your muscles tense as the orgasm violently spills over. His free hand wraps around your thigh to hold you down, as he twists his fingers inside you. It’s all too much too quickly. Your ears ring, and waves of pleasure cascade through every nerve in your body. Your core pulses around Aemond’s fingers, eyes slamming shut until you shatter onto him – your mind folds as your orgasm cracks. You whine and push his hand because he’s still going, your clit burning from overstimulation.

“That is how you make me feel when you vex me,” he grunts, his hands now snaking their way to your neck. His grip tightens as he lowers himself to your lips, his mouth descends onto yours – his kiss hungry and full of lust. His hands worked the drawstrings of his trousers.

“Perhaps you need assistance,” you remark. His hands push down his black trousers, the thick swell of his cock throbs. There’s a wet smear as the head of his cock runs through your folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. With little warning, Aemond’s full-length slams into you with a devastating force – you moan into his shoulder as his angular face nest into your neck. You’ll feel him for days afterward as your walls clench inch after inch, a dull ache settling deep inside you. The rhythm of his hips is hard. Fast. Merciless. Aemond buries himself into your core, each stroke as rough and feral as the last. Your fingers tangle his silver hair, your nails raking down his back – leaving raised lines in his pale skin.

“Fuck,” he breathes. Aemond firmly grips your jaw, sliding his thumb past your lips – your tongue brushes over his finger. You pull his lips towards you, molding your mouth to his as your soft wet kisses morph into pricks of his teeth. His gaze locked on yours, as his length goes in you – you pull his head down once more you gently place kisses around his scar. His eye flutter shuts with every touch.

His thrust boils the shimming heat gathering in the pit of your core, electric heat blazing through each and every nerve. Your muscles tighten around him, making his cock throb as his thrusts create violent slaps. Aemond couldn’t hold back any longer. Hot spurts flood your insides, his eye squeezing shut as he buries his face into your shoulder. You clutch him tightly against your chest while he fills you.

He eventually pulls away, his gaze taking in every inch of your bare skin. With a cocky grin on his face, you knew he wouldn’t let this down. But neither would you. You knew he desired you as much as you desired him.

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