blckfyres
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Object of Delight (3/3)
[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]
[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, domination, swearing, postpartum depression ]
[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. Despite his initial reluctance, a bond develops between him and his wife that he cannot understand or comprehend. In this chapter I combine several requests into one. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. ]
Part 1 − Object of Desire
Part 2 − Object of Despair
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
_____
The frequency and fervour with which he fucked his wife caused it to be less than three moons before the measter brought him the joyful news during one of his sparring sessions with Ser Criston, informing him that she was expecting his child.
He explained that he had been summoned by one of her servants when she suddenly fainted, and as it turned out, the cause of her indisposition was his inheritance in her womb.
He couldn't help the smirk of satisfaction and the amused look he threw Cole, for here it appeared that, in fact, her deceased husband had simply failed to perform his duty well, his seed was weak and his lineage would be forgotten.
Although he was buzzing with curiosity and desire to see her now, to take her in this blessed state, he decided not to show his weakness and make it to the end of his training following his daily routine, heading to her chamber immediately after taking a quick bath.
His long white hair was still a little damp when he crossed the threshold of her quarters, the door closed quietly behind him, and he looked at her sleeping figure lying on her bed, covered in thick furs. He hummed, walking slowly closer, recognising that she had made the right decision to rest, in her current state she needed to look out for herself more than before.
He stood over her in silence for a moment, fighting the burning desire to touch her face, to take an unruly strand from her cheek, but hesitated.
He only made gestures that someone might call affectionate after their intense closeness, when she slept snuggled against his naked chest, her hand on which she wore a golden ring in the shape of a sun with a sapphire eye, his gift to her, proof that she was capable of pleasing him both in and out of bed, rested on his heart.
He stroked her soft, smooth hair then, her bare shoulder, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, musing. The fact that she spent the nights with him became natural to them, he did not summon her and she did not wait for his permission, following him to his quarters immediately after supper. They didn't speak much, didn't confide their secrets to each other, instead getting to know each other's bodies intimately.
They were able to lie on their sides in the dark for hours satisfying and teasing each other with their mouths without giving each other fulfilment, he enjoyed watching out of the corner of his eye, trailing his lips over her hot, leaking womanhood as his wife sucked unhurriedly on his cock, licking it with her tongue, her caresses gentle and tender, making his fingers involuntarily clench tighter on the naked skin of her hips right next to his face.
There was something liberating to him in the fact that she did not require him to make confessions or sacrifice his regular daily life, although it had always seemed to him that a wife was merely an extension of her husband and his shadow, she preferred to remain a separate entity and although she was dependent on him, he chose not to overuse the power he had over her, not finding it necessary.
He shuddered, snapped out of his reverie when her eyes opened lazily, she smiled barely visible, softly, perhaps even warmly at the sight of him.
"Are you trying to scare me?" She muttered, turning only to sink deeper into the soft bedding, looking at him calmly, her eyes bright, her face smooth, without a trace of a grimace.
He snorted, amused, turning his head away for a moment only to look at her again, sighing heavily, even though he tried to keep a grave face he knew she had noticed his contentment with the news that had reached him.
"I have been informed that you are carrying my son in your womb." He hummed low, deeply, she blinked, smiling wider.
"I don't know if it will be a son." She replied softly, and he hummed again, she shifted back as he walked closer to her bed and lay on his side, his face turned towards her, laying his head on the pillow right next to hers. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, feeling that although neither of them used words, this was a day of their shared joy, for here was the fruit of their efforts.
He raised his large hand at the thought, unable to contain himself, his fingers taking a strand of her black hair and flicking it over her back with a light gesture, she smiled wider, knowing that he couldn't stand it when something covered her face.
Her eyes.
Taking advantage of the fact that he had already touched her, he involuntarily ran his thumb over her soft, plump cheek, and saw that she had closed her eyes, sighing quietly, his gaze focused on her long, dark lashes. His fingers tightened around her neck, drawing her to him, she purred loudly as his swollen lips pressed against hers in a wet, loud, hot kiss.
He pulled away from her with a quiet click, but her lips ran invitingly over his, telling him that she craved more, so he sank into their fleshy texture again, slipping the tip of his tongue between them, a sweet, innocent moan came from her throat causing his cock to throb impatiently in his breeches.
He took her more gently than usual, rocking his hips lazily deep inside her, each time the tip of his swollen manhood rubbing the spot between her muscles, from which a shiver of pleasure ran through her whole body, her fingers tightening on his muscular shoulders, her body beginning to meet his, wordlessly letting him know that he could accelerate his pace.
Her short, slender fingernails dug into the bare skin of his firm buttocks as he began to thrust into her more aggressively, wanting him to do it even harder, he stroked her cheek as she began to babble, asking, begging him to give her what she needed.
"− we need to be more careful now because of the baby − I know, I know you need it, shhh −" He hushed her, closing her mouth with his own, his hands gripped her thighs, with sure, deep thrusts pounding into her at an angle that he knew gave her the greatest pleasure, she arched her back with a sweet moan as his thumb began to tease her bud with circular, intense strokes, her walls began to squeeze him, soaking him all over in her moisture.
"− Aemond −" She mumbled pleadingly, in the way he adored most, he looked down at her panting loudly, resting his free hand on the bed frame in front of him, thrusting into her again and again with the sticky splat of his thighs against her buttocks, his cock throbbing hard, demanding fulfilment.
"− I know − I'll lick you good tonight and slap those buttocks a little − sounds good, hm? −" He gasped, looking at her with affection from which he felt a squeeze in his throat, she nodded her head quickly and cried out, he felt her muscles clench at the very thought, sucking him inside, her cheeks red from exertion and desire, her swollen, full lips parted wide, her hands trailing over his hot flesh.
"− yes − please − fuck me good − o-oh gods −" She mewled sweetly as her body shook with eager, overpowering fulfilment, she tilted her head back, writhing beneath him, her weeping cunt began to clench on him greedily, intensifying his pleasure.
"− good girl −" He exhaled wearily as with a few desperate, sloppy thrusts he came inside her with a loud sigh of relief, looking at her in disbelief, the woman who had given him what he craved.
"− you did so well for me −" He whispered, leaning over her, being careful not to crush her with his body, sinking his nose into her soft cheek. She wrapped her hands around his waist, stroking his back, making a shiver run along his spine every time her fingers brushed over his hot, sweaty skin.
She knew there was a deeper meaning to what he said and that it didn't just refer to their intense closeness.
Her abdomen swelling from his inheritance was his reason for being proud, his hand lying on it and stroking it involuntarily during the evenings or mornings she spent in his company.
As she lay naked beside him at night, sweaty and welted from what he had done to her, her cunt all puffy and sore from the caresses of his tongue, he hugged his face to her womb, smiling involuntarily when he sometimes managed to feel the movement of the little dragon that was growing inside her.
Despite the maester's recommendation that they should not cohabit with each other when she was in such advanced pregnancy and their strenuous attempts to confine themselves to the use of their mouths alone, as she lay beside him, cuddled with her back to his chest, his manhood swelled involuntarily, slapping against her buttocks.
She would then spread her thighs invitingly, teasing him with the strokes of her hips, tilting her head back, whispering how wet she was, and he, impatiently lifted her higher, forcing the fat head of his cock with their sigh of relief into her tight, throbbing opening, and although they knew they should do it slowly, they fucked each other rough.
"− can't you last a few fucking days without my cock? − isn't it enough that you came on my face tonight? −" He exhaled, listening as his thighs slapped fast against her buttocks with loud smacks, his manhood thrusting into her with ease, her insides slick with her juices, his fingers between her thighs, their tips playing with her clit, not letting her escape.
"− I came having your cock deep inside my mouth − have you forgotten already? −" She gasped and he groaned low at the thought, quickening his pace, clamping his hand around her neck so as not to make it difficult for her to breathe and accidentally hurt the baby, he hid his face in her hair, feeling that he was embarrassingly close to another fulfilment.
"− no − that's not something you can forget − fuck −" He muttered, feeling her sticky walls begin to suck him inside in orgasm, her moisture spilling over his thighs, her moans making him let go, letting his hot seed spill inside her.
"− gods, so good − I can't stop −" He mumbled, and she sighed heavily, moving with him for a moment longer, stroking his arm that embraced her swollen abdomen.
"− me too −"
On the day of the delivery he was restless, pacing around his chamber, full of tension, unable to sit still. She felt the first contractions in the morning and collapsed as her servants helped her dress, whimpering, terrified that it had begun.
He consoled himself with the thought that her mother, the Queen and his sister were with her, that she was not alone, but he could not stop thinking about Aemma, her grandfather's sister and his father's first wife, how she had died and that, although he tried to push the vision away, the birth could prove complicated.
He swallowed hard, running his hand over his face, unwittingly seeing in his mind her pale, lifeless body, her empty violet eyes, her cheeks drenched in tears, her nightgown soaked in blood at the height of her thighs.
He groaned lowly, trying to calm down, repeating to himself that this would not happen, that she was not Aemma and he was not his father.
Hours passed, however, and he still hadn't received any news of her condition, he felt like he was dying inside, for some reason he wanted to weep with despair.
He saw himself with his hands placed deep in the fire of his fireplace, holding his dragon egg, clenching his lips in pain, begging the gods for it to crack.
He shuddered, snapped out of his reverie, rising to his feet as the maester stepped inside his chamber, his attention immediately drawn to the fact that his hands were all dirty in blood.
"My prince, you have a son." He said in a trembling voice, and he looked at him dully, as if he did not understand what he had said.
"What about my wife?"
He moved immediately to her chamber when he learned that she had endured the birth very badly, that there was no contact with her, that she had a fever.
That she might not survive.
He didn't even look at the wailing child in his queen's arms, he walked immediately to the bed where her mother was sobbing, stroking her hands, she looked exactly as in his vision, pale, her gaze blank, directed somewhere far away, her chemise all red with blood, if it weren't for the fact that her breast was rising and falling in shallow breaths he would have thought she was dead.
"− my prince, you shouldn't −" He heard the voice of one of the ladies of the court, but he just stood there looking at her with his lips pressed together, feeling a squeeze in his throat and chest so strong that he had the impression that his whole body had begun to tremble.
He involuntarily moved towards her, climbing onto the bed, leaning on his knees, his trembling hand touched her hot, sweaty cheek, all wet with tears.
"− my love − my love, speak to me −" He whispered, but she didn't even look at him, she only twitched, one last, lonely tear flowed from the corner of her eye.
Something about the sight broke him, he pressed his forehead to her temple, panting hard, her wonderful scent filling his lungs again.
"− don't leave me − don't leave me alone in this world −"
He didn't know if his words had reached her, her fever intensified by the night he had spent by her side with her mother. He sat in a chair watching as she washed her face, already dressed in a clean, snow-white undershirt, covered by thick layers of furs, her body quivering all over, sunk in a deep, restless sleep.
"− I thought the worst was behind her − after that bastard... −" She began, but pressed her lips together, as if unable to get it out of her, he looked at her anxiously, feeling his whole body tense up.
She had never told him about her first husband.
Nor had he ever asked about it, not even wanting to recall that another man had had her before him.
"− was he not a good husband? −" He asked impassively, Lady Arryn looked up at him with big eyes, her eyebrows arched in despair and anger at the same time, her hair as dark as his wife's, but her irises were golden and bright, shining in the candlelight around them. She swallowed loudly, her chin trembling all over, as if she couldn't get it out of her.
"− I − I didn't find out until a year later − that when it turned out she was bleeding, that she wasn't carrying his child − every month he made her sleep in godswood, in just her nightgown − h-he said − gods, he said that until she gave him an heir, she was like his sword, his book, or his horse − her servants took pity on her and when he fell asleep, they would take her to their chambers beneath the stronghold −" She muttered, tears of grief and bitterness running down her face, he looked at her dully, feeling as if he was about to vomit, his stomach painfully clenched, he ran his trembling hand over his face, hearing her words during their wedding night inside his head.
A wife is a gift. Like a sword, a book or a horse.
He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, feeling a burning wetness under his eyelids that he did not let flow.
Her silhouette lying under the weirwood tree, then, as he followed her.
He thought she stopped visiting this place when it became apparent that she was expecting his child because walking such long distances began to be difficult for her.
He drew in a loud breath, feeling the salty taste of his own tear spilling over his tongue as it ran down his cheek into his mouth.
"− my husband did the right thing − he deserved it −" She exclaimed, and he didn't speak again, knowing what she meant.
He only breathed a sigh of relief the next day when her fever had diminished and she was still breathing. She would wake up and only babble, her mother would feed her and help her dress, and he would just be beside her, overseeing everything, wanting to make sure nothing escaped his attention.
He knew that his son was in the care of his mother and sister.
As she began to regain consciousness, it was decided to introduce their son to her, one of the nursemaids, a plump woman with a wide smile brought in her arms an infant with his white hair and her mother's golden eyes, he smiled involuntarily at the sight, hoping that the appearance of her child would give her strength.
"Look, my lady. It's your little boy. Would you like to feed him?" The woman asked softly, but his wife merely looked away, tense, staring out of the window, her fingers clenched on the thick fur that covered her. He pressed his lips together at the sight, feeling that something was happening deep inside her, that something had taken place during the birth that had broken her.
She did not want to look at the baby, touch it or feed it, she only expressed in a weak voice her satisfaction that the child was healthy.
Her mother tried to persuade her to at least take her son in her arms, that she would then immediately feel maternal love and attachment, but she shook her head quickly, tears running down her face as if she didn't even want to imagine it.
"− my prince, I'm afraid a heavy birth has caused your wife to lose her senses, she is rejecting her own child − I believe that at this point she is dangerous to your highness' son and should be left alone for a while to calm down −" The maester told him as he left her chamber to change and refresh himself, his lips tightened into a thin line at his words.
"− weigh your words − my wife is suffering, and you are to find the cause of it −" He hissed, furious, the man swallowed hard and nodded, not speaking again.
When he returned to her quarters, he noticed to his surprise that her bed was empty, her mother asleep in her chair, tired, no one else around.
He went outside in a panic, wondering where she could have gone, heading towards the godswood, however, he froze in a half-step walking down the corridor when he noticed that the door to the chamber his son slept in was ajar.
He walked slowly inside and stopped, noticing her silhouette sitting next to the cradle, looking blankly at the sleeping infant, her face indifferent and expressionless. She lifted her gaze to him at last, as if snapped out of her reverie, her eyebrows arched in pain, her fingers clenched on the fabric of her nightgown.
"What's going to happen to me now?" She muttered in a trembling voice and he shook his head, not understanding what she was asking.
"I do not follow." He replied, she lowered her gaze, her lower lip quivered, tears ran down her cheeks, she seemed to have fallen into some kind of state of panic.
"Now that I've given you a son. What are you going to do with me? Will you pretend I don't exist? Will you find yourself a lover?"
He stared at her stunned, feeling the quick pounding of his heart and the squeeze in his throat, horrified at the direction her thoughts were taking.
"Where did those words come from?" He asked in disbelief, feeling that he was struggling to breathe, his hands clenched into fists.
She hid her face in her hands, shaking her head, bursting into a loud sobs as if something inside her had cracked.
"I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't." She squirmed, drawing in air loudly, he moved towards her, kneeling in front of her, pressing her face to his chest.
"Calm down. Please." He whispered, her fingers clenching tightly on the material of his green tunic in a helpless gesture of despair.
"I am worn out. I'm a worn-out, empty vessel. There's nothing more I can give you." She whimpered, and he clamped his eyelids shut, pulling her close. Her body fell to the ground right beside him, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, cuddling her into himself like a small child, stroking her soft dark hair reassuringly.
"You are my wife. I will never betray you or our family. We can wait with begetting another child until you are ready. After all, we have our ways of doing that, don't we?" He asked in a soft, trembling voice, trying to comfort her, to let her understand that nothing was over, but on the contrary, in his eyes, it had only just begun.
"I've been contemplating for some time that I should take you in front of that guard who looks at you so shamelessly when you're wearing gowns of thinner material. When your breasts are visible through it. That would give him something to think about, hm? And the most important thing. Vhagar. The mother of my child must know what it means to ride a dragon." He hummed into her ear, playing with strands of her hair, feeling her shiver at his words, that she was returning to him, her body no longer trembling, her breathing calming.
"I thought I'd already ridden the world's greatest dragon." She whispered, and he involuntarily smirked and snorted, kissing her hair.
"Not like this."
They stayed like that for a while in each other's embrace, sitting on the floor, stroking each other's cheeks, shoulders and hair, for the first time so close, so tender, so sincere. They shuddered when they heard sobbing and whimpering coming from the cradle, they both rose, he turned his head, calling the guard, telling them to bring a nursemaid.
"No." She said softly, coming closer, leaning over the cradle, taking their son into her arms. She embraced him and began rocking him, shushing him reassuringly as she looked at his face.
"− hello, little man − I'm sorry I'm such a bad mummy − it's not your fault −" She muttered with difficulty, tears in her eyes, he looked at this sight with a squeezed throat and swallowed heavily.
"− come here − are you hungry? −" She asked, sitting down on the window sill, slipping the material of her nightgown off her shoulder, exposing her breast, all swollen, full of milk, he felt his manhood throb involuntarily in his breeches at this sight.
She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as their son, nestled against her breast, found her nipple and, in a natural, subconscious instinct, began to suck on it greedily, clamping his small hand over her skin.
She looked at their child with curiosity and some kind of warmth that moved him, he approached her, leaning over her, kissing the top of her head, sinking his nose into her soft hair, looking out of the corner of his eye at this almost mythological sight of a woman feeding her offspring.
"− what did you name our son? −" She asked quietly, and he felt hot in his chest hearing her use the word our.
"− I waited with this decision for you − you are his mother −" He replied softly, taking an unruly strand of her hair from her face. She mused, looking at the infant suckled to her breast and smiled softly.
"− Jaehaerys −" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, delighted that they had thought of the same thing.
Of their common ancestor.
"− so Jaehaerys it will be −"
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Meant to be
Waiting for This Story to End Before I Begin Another, Jan Heller Levi//Accident Report in the Tall, Tall Weeds, Ada Limón//House of the Dragon (2022-)
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— WISŁAWA SZYMBORSKA, trans. Clare Cavanagh & Stanisław Barańczak.
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Masterlist
My AO3 is here with all of my fics, including others not on tumblr. Please consider leaving kudos there as well if you like my work! You do not need an account to do so.
All of my MCs in my reader inserts are intended to be more or less gender neutral and racially ambiguous unless stated otherwise.
Requests: Open
Aemond Fics
The Ledan (Aemond x nb!AFAB!reader) (Credit to the coining of the titles Ledan and Lufan here) pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, read the rest on Ao3 (link picks up in the story where tumblr updates stop)
Never Better (Aemond x gn!Reader) (drabble) (18+) here
Please(sub!Aemond x gn!Reader)(18+)here
Are You In Pain?(Aemond x gn!Reader) (prompt/request fill)here
Milk of the Poppy (Aemond x gn!Reader) here
Teeth and Tongue (Aemond x gn!Reader) (18+) here
Fond (Aemond x gn!Reader) here
Tears (Aemond x gn!Reader) here
Daemon Fics
Well Spent (Daemon x gn!Reader) (drabble) (18+) here
Foul Day (Daemon x gn!AFAB!Reader) (18+) here
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Pouring one out for the creators that support creators.
It is so refreshing to engage with artists and authors who are happy to read/interact with and share work that is not their own.
There is an over abundance of people in this fandom - all fandoms, actually - who treat their headcanons as canon/fact and think themselves superior to others, despite the fact they rarely, if ever, take the time to read/look at other people’s content.
I get that personal taste varies greatly and I’m not suggesting people should like everything that’s put out there. Lord knows you won’t agree with some of the takes and some are just poorly made/written, due to differing levels of skill.
But for those of us that take the time to hone our craft, bust our asses to ensure we have a firm handle on the characters we write for and pour love into everything we put out into the world, it is disheartening to be looked down upon by fellow creators with a superiority complex.
Give your head a wobble and realise we’re just silly little guys creating stuff about silly little fictional guys. Give other people’s work a chance. You might enjoy it.
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two characters who understand each other like no one else does and therefore hurt each other like no one else can
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female awesome meme; 5/5 ladies with the best development: sansa stark (got)
“i’m done with all that. i came here every day when i was a girl. i prayed to be somewhere else. back then I only thought about what i wanted, never about what i had.”
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for the ask game - light!
Light ▸ How do you envision the perfect partner for Aemond?
I think what Aemond wants and what Aemond needs are two very different things. What he thinks he wants is completely warped and shaped by the relationships he was exposed to growing up. I think seeing what Alicent went through probably makes him desire emotional distance/independence at all costs.
I truly think that he belongs with an unapologetic nerd - someone to share in his studies and show them that they can be for enjoyment, not just to prove yourself as capable. He needs someone whip smart that can challenge his logic and talk him out of the overthinking that traps him in that cycle of rage, which is the root of so many of his issues. This is why almost all of my reader characterisations are nerd coded to an extent!
He needs someone who loves him unapologetically and openly to coax him out of that emotional shell, and someone who reciprocates that intense protection and loyalty.
Send a raven!
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Prelude, Brynne Rebele-Henry//The Passion, Pier Paolo Pasolini//Joan of Arc, In This Moment//Pale Beneath the Tan, The Front Bottoms//Tonight I'm Someone Else: Essays, Chelsea Hodson//Queen Alicent Hightower from House of the Dragon (2022-)
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House of the Dragon ask list 📝
Drop a word in my ask/messages and I shall answer 🖤
dracarys ▸ most and least favourite character
targaryen ▸ favourite dragon
realm ▸ favourite S1 episode
dragonstone ▸ favourite S1 scene
gevie ▸ favourite ship
westeros ▸ favourite House
blackfyre ▸ favourite S1 costume / outfit
sapphire ▸ what I love most and least about Aemond
rogue ▸ what I love most and least about Daemon
light ▸ how I envision the perfect partner for Aemond
shadow ▸ how I envision the perfect partner for Daemon
throne ▸ who I think should rule the Seven Kingdoms
winterfell ▸ most anticipated character in S2
kingdom ▸ where I would live in the Seven Kingdoms
green ▸ favourite writing trope for Aemond
black ▸ favourite writing trope for Daemon
valyria ▸ what I like the most about HotD
usurper ▸ what I don't like about HotD
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Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980
Text ID: The longing to touch / be touched. I feel gratitude when I touch someone—as well as affection, etc. The person has allowed me proof that I have a body—and that there are bodies in the world.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 … PART 1/5
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . aemond is faced with a challenge in the form of the head gardener’s daughter, who seems resistant to make amends so easily with the prince for wrongs of the past
Keep reading
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tell me why i imagine sweet daeron having a little boy's crush on aemond's wife because she's so gentle and kind with him
i saw someone else's ask about how he wants to be just like aemond, not only out of admiration but because he thinks "if someone like aemond can get a wife like (y/n) then so can i if i'm like that!!"
and sweet boy copying his mannerisms, pulling her chair out at dinners before aemond can and even though the chair basically towers over him, she's coddling and gushing at how polite and thoughtful he is and he MILKS that
so it becomes a playful rivalry between aemond and him and she's just "it's like you're actually intimidated by your baby brother"
and aemond who's hiding a giant bouquet of flowers behind his back only to one up the little rose daeron gave you "absolutely not. me? be rivaled by the twerp? never-"
Hi!! Oh my god this is darling, I cannot wait to write for these prompts! Cute little Daeron is 4 years younger than Aemond...so we will say he's 15 during this. Adorable.
Aemond x wife!reader | Daeron learning from his brother | admiration crush | playful brother rivalry
"Thank you Daeron, you're so sweet!" You smiled brightly at the boy as he extended to you a bouquet of wildflowers. "Ouch!" A stinging sensation spread around where a sprig of green had touched your hand.
"Ah, stinging nettle." Your husband mused, eyebrow raised at his younger brother as you dropped the offending bunch of flowers to the ground. "An interesting addition, Daeron."
"Gods I am so sorry Y/N!" Daeron looked from your wincing face to his bouquet now scattered upon the stone ground in alarm. "I have gloves on...and a very mediocre knowledge of local flora it seems."
Aemond took your sore hand in his, placing a gentle kiss to where your skin was reddening and swelling. Daeron noted his brother's movements with a studious gaze.
"Let's get you to the maester, I'm sure they have ointment on hand for such an affliction." Giving Daeron one last severe look, Aemond swept you from the room, leaving the crestfallen prince standing alone chewing his lip.
Later that evening, your finger lightly bandaged and no longer hurting, you found yourself entering the dining hall on Aemond's arm.
Daeron took note of your entrance, waving to you enthusiastically and striding over, a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright? I truly apologize for my earlier blunder." He extended a single red rose to you, giving you a slight bow.
You took the delicate flower, trying hard not to let your amusement show, especially as you felt Aemond shift in annoyance beside you. "Thank you Daeron, that is very thoughtful. I am quite alright."
"No loss of limb yet." Aemond agreed, shaking his head at Daeron's earnest expression. "Though I cannot speak for yourself should you continue giving my wife flowers."
Daeron frowned only slightly before he gestured for you towards the dining table, sweeping your chair out from its place for you to sit. He bowed again as you carefully took your place, sinking into the welcoming cushion. You scooted forward as Daeron pushed you into table. He overdid it in his eagerness to help, and your midriff was pressed uncomfortably hard against the wood. You let out a slight "oof" as some air was expelled from your lungs and pushed back with your hands.
From your peripheral vision you saw Aemond take his brother by the scruff of his collar, forcefully seating the young man into his own seat and giving him a hard pat on the shoulder. "If you want to impress a lady, Daeron, I suggest resisting the urge to bisect her."
You hid your laugh in the goblet of wine you brought to your lips, pretending to take a sip as Aemond took his place beside you, his hand resting briefly atop your knee. "Did my oaf of a brother do any permanent damage?" He was only half-joking, the annoyance still evident in the timber of his voice.
"I may never recover." You jested, leaning into him slightly, turning your face to place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "He is simply trying to mirror what he sees you do for me."
"He's failing spectacularly."
"Aemond." You chided, taking a moment to make sure Daeron couldn't overhear. "He looks up to you. Clearly he wants to learn from you."
Aemond huffed, bringing his own goblet to his lips. He didn't answer you, seeming to sink into deep contemplation as he often did when something troubled him.
------
The next day was clear and crisp, the winter air still chill despite the shining sun. You descended a set of marble stairs to the room you usually took your luncheon in. To your surprise you found Daeron and Aemond within, deep in conversation with each other. Daeron was nodding and Aemond had his hands clasped tight behind his back. They ceased speaking as soon as you entered, looking almost guiltily at you.
"I hope you're not up to anything that will raze King's Landing." You teased, your skirts rustling as you moved toward the table.
You stopped, looking at the spread of food laid before you. It was all of your favorite things to eat and drink. A little sample of each treat you so adored. "Aemond?" You asked, not taking your eyes off the delicious array of delicacies.
"I arranged for your favorite foods to be brought up for your enjoyment." Your husband inclined his head as you finally looked at him.
"I brought some books I thought you'd like to read while you took your afternoon meal." Daeron volunteered, looking slightly guilty as Aemond shot him a bemused glare.
"That was so very thoughtful of you Daeron, thank you for thinking of me." You smiled graciously at the young Targaryen.
Daeron beamed.
You moved to Aemond, tilting his head toward you with a finger to his sharp jaw. "Thank you my dearest." You kissed him softly upon his plush lips. You moved your mouth to his ear, whispering so only he could hear. "Though you do not need to compete with your brother."
"Speaking of my brother." Aemond said loudly, turning to face Daeron, an impish smile on his curved lips. "I've arranged for you to meet with several ladies your age from notable noble houses this eve."
Daeron's face blanched. "I...meet...tonight?"
"Indeed." Aemond shook his head, chuckling. "You seem intent on practicing your courtship skills on my wife, it's only fair you get more experience with other women." He patted Daeron on the shoulder. "Though do try not to maim them too badly."
"I'd never!" Daeron spluttered, glancing at you guiltily. "Not on purpose!"
"Remember what I told you regarding..." Aemond started but Daeron waved him off.
"Yes, yes, no need to repeat it in front of Y/N." A faint blush painted the younger Targaryen's cheeks, causing your brow to raise as you looked inquisitively between the brothers.
"You're lucky Aegon hasn't gotten wind of what you've been up to." Aemond continued. "He'd give you unending grief."
"Helaena's given me some useful tips I think." Daeron looked at you. "She told me flowers and chocolates are a sure way to a girl's heart."
"Being interested in her and listening to what she has to say, what she's interested in, is also a solid start." You agreed, smiling knowingly at Aemond as his eye found yours. "Though chocolate does go a long way."
The three of you laughed, Aemond's arm snaking around your waist, pulling you against his side. Daeron watched each movement Aemond made around you with attention, his lilac eyes bright with interest.
"Don't go to Aegon for advice on women." Aemond warned suddenly, his face grave as he looked down at his younger brother. "And if he offers to teach you anything about them, you come to me instead. Understand?"
"Yes." Daeron nodded, looking mildly confused at Aemond's unexpected severity.
You squeezed Aemond's waist lightly, reassuring him with your presence. "All will be well. Daeron, you are a dashing young man who is sure to sweep the right girl off her feet in no time."
"Thank you, Y/N. I can only hope to be as lucky as Aemond."
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I think Aemond would be really into cockwarming with his partner after they both finish--just laying there on top of one another with him still inside, holding his partner while they both come down and catch their breath. I think he'd wait to pull out until his partner started to get uncomfortable, either from still being stretched (I just know he's big. I just know it) or from wanting to lay differently when they start drifting off to sleep. He'd pull out with a gentle groan, get comfortable with them, and then theyd both fall asleep soothed by the rhythm of the others breaths
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SO SO GOOD
JO I haven't stopped thinking about City Streets since I read it earlier and I figured if I wanted more of this mysterious reader who encounters Aemond in Silk Street I should ask!! so here I am requesting (if you feel like it of course) if we could maybe get a part two? UGH the tension and attraction was just crazy good!!! x
Castle Hallways
Part Two of City Streets
Aemond Targaryen x Female!reader
Rating: T
Warnings: None? This is pure fluff
Word count: About 1.3k
Synopsis: You have another unexpected run in with your favorite prince.
Author’s note: Here you go, love!! Thank you for this request! I was so shocked and thrilled by the reaction City Streets received so I really hope y'all like part two!
P.S. Here’s a link to my masterlist if you’d like to check out my other writing! My askbox and taglist are always open! Come interact with me! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!
Aemond Masterlist
“It is essential that you take this safely to the Red Keep,” your father urged you as he placed two baskets of pastries in your hands.
“I don’t understand why they are not sending someone to pick this up like they always do,” you said as you took the heavy sweets-laden baskets.
“I do not know. When the order was placed they requested we bring them this time. Can you manage this task? It is very important, it is the princess’ birthday and she specifically requested these.”
You rolled your eyes at him.
“Of course, father.”
You began your trek to the Red Keep. In truth you were excited for you had never been inside the intimidatingly large castle, though you grew up in its shadow.
When you arrived a guard gave you directions to the kitchens then dismissed you quickly.
You sighed in frustration. Truthfully your sense of direction was pitiful and you had hoped someone would guide you through the keep so you would not get lost.
“Shit,” you mumbled as you realized you had surely taken a wrong turn.
All the damn hallways looked the damn same. This place was a maze.
You turned around to walk the way you came, thinking you could backtrack and find your way again, but as you turned the corner you slammed into a man’s back.
You managed to stop yourself, and more importantly the sweets, from falling.
“Damn it, I’m so sorry,” you said and as you looked up your breath caught.
A smirk was upon the prince’s curved lips as he looked you up and down.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he purred.
You managed a curtsy and when you looked up his smirk had turned into a full smile.
“My prince, I apologize again for my clumsiness.”
“No need to apologize, I am charmed by it,” he said, voice low and gentle.
You bit your lip and looked away as you tried to conceal the way his words flustered you.
“I have often wondered about the beautiful mystery woman I met in the city. Tell me, what are you doing here?”
You couldn’t hold back your grin as you said, “I have found my thoughts wandering to you as well, my prince. I am here on behalf of my father’s bakery. I brought dornish style pastries for the princess’ name day celebration.”
“And you thought you would bring them to the wing that contains the private royal quarters?” he asked, clearly amused.
You looked down, embarrassed and flustered.
“I got lost on my way to the kitchens,” you mumbled.
He chuckled softly, but not cruelly as if he were laughing with you and not at your expense.
“I would be happy to show you the way,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother,” you protested, though your resolve was rather weak due to your desire to spend more time with the handsome prince.
“Nonsense,” he said as he took one of the baskets from you and offered you his other arm.
“Consider it me paying you back for when you led me through the city,” he said smoothly.
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you nodded and linked your arm with his.
“I appreciate it. My sense of direction is truly abysmal and I am certain this place is designed to be a maze,” you joked just so you could hear his gorgeous laugh again.
Your efforts were rewarded and you smiled as you looked at him.
He was so ridiculously handsome it made your heart flutter. The sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw were so alluring and you wondered if his beautiful long white hair was as soft as it looked.
“My sister has been talking about these sweets nonstop for days,” he said.
“Oh! I do hope the princess is pleased with them,” you replied.
“I am certain she will be. Though, if I had known they were associated with you I would have convinced her to order them sooner,” he flirted and you looked away, once again too flustered to meet his gaze.
“Perhaps you could come visit the bakery sometime. You could try all the different pastries we make. These ones are good, but the chocolate ones are my favorite,” you said, and you were proud of yourself that your voice didn’t waver.
“Hmm. An enticing proposal,” he said with a smile wide enough to reveal that he has small dimples and you smiled at him, breathlessly taken away by his beauty.
His ethereal handsomeness in itself proved the saying true that Targaryens are closer to gods than men.
“Are these really as good as my sister says?” he asked.
He unhooked his arm from yours and pulled back the fabric that covered the pastries and peered at them.
You snickered. “Yes, my prince. Why else would they be so frequently ordered? Surely you have tried them before, perhaps you just do not remember.”
“Maybe a taste would remind me, then,” he said mischievously as he reached in the basket.
“Um, no!” you exclaimed as you batted his hand away.
He looked at you, both shocked and amused that you denied him something and reprimanded him as if he were a misbehaving boy and not your prince.
“All fifty pastries need to be here and accounted for otherwise my father’s bakery will no longer receive business from the Red Keep,” you explained seriously.
“Alright, I suppose I can wait until later to try one,” he said with a smile. He found your directness and lack of care for his station refreshing. He wasn’t sure how he managed to stumble upon a woman who was not intimidated by him and so delightfully forward not only once but twice.
You breathed a sigh of relief that your surge of boldness was not too far and had been well received.
“The kitchens are here,” he said as he led you into a room full of people rushing around as they baked and cooked.
A servant girl covered in flour came running up to you and the prince immediately.
“My prince,” she said as she curtseyed.
She turned to you. “Oh! Are those the dornish pastries?”
“Yes, the prince very kindly led me here when I got lost in the Keep,” you explained as you handed her the basket.
She nodded as if she didn’t particularly care for your explanation and instead was ready to move on to her next task.
She placed the pastries on the table behind her before she took the other basket from Aemond and did the same.
He managed to snatch one from the basket before she did, however.
She giggled as he took it and he looked over to you for approval.
You nodded, a wide smile on your face at his antics, and he smirked before he popped it in his mouth and took your arm once again.
At least now the missing pastry would be blamed on the prince instead of you.
He led you out of the kitchens and back outside of the keep.
“Delicious, it was almost as sweet as you,” he flirted and you found yourself feeling bashful once again.
“You flatter me, my prince,” you said a little breathlessly.
“Yes, that is the goal,” he said as he brought you to the gate of the keep.
You let go of his arm and looked up at him.
“Thank you for helping me find my way,” you said as you stared into his gorgeous eye that threatened to pull you under its depths.
“Of course, my lady. Perhaps I shall take you up on your offer and find my way to your family’s bakery one of these days,” he said, his voice smooth and gentle.
“I would like that very much,” you breathed out and he smirked.
He placed his hand on the side of your face and your breath caught as he leaned down and pressed his beautiful lips to your cheek.
“Until next time,” he said as he turned and walked away.
You once again watched him leave and felt flustered at the thought of seeing him again.
Everything taglist:
@spideysimpossiblegirl @dinandgone @ohpedromypedro @littlemisspascal @tombraider42017 @kirsteng42 @just-here-for-the-moment @salome-c @hb8301 @readsalot73
Aemond taglist:
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If I missed anyone that asked to be tagged I'm sorry it's been tough to keep up with everyone that's asked to be added to the taglist!
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there’s absolutely no parallel in house of the dragon more insane than this:
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